TEXT: RUST
  HULKS
  a role-playing game
  by Sam Sorensen
  
  2
  Rust Hulks
  ©2020 by Sam Sorensen
  Heavily based on Vincent and Meguey Baker’s Apocalypse World, along with 
  lots of tidbits from Hamish Cameron’s The Sprawl, Jason Morningstar’s Night 
  Witches, and Andrew Medeiros and Mark Diaz Truman’s Urban Shadows.
  Writing and design by Sam Sorensen.
  Playbook art by Ben Bauchau.
  Many thanks to everyone who backed this game on Kickstarter.
  Typefaces: EUROSTILE BLACK, Revolution Gothic.
  Made using the Adobe Creative Suite.
  a goat’s head game
  
  HULKS
  RUST
  
  4
  CONTENTS
  Orientation ..................................6
  What is This? ..............................7
  Content Warnings, You Will Need, 
  Touchstones ...............................8
  The Basics .............................. 9
  The World ............................10
  Conversation ....................... 11
  Moves .................................12
  Stats ...................................14
  Playbooks ...........................15
  Chains & Heat ......................16
  The Ship ..............................18
  Rooms .................................19
  Jobs ...................................20
  The Captain .........................21
  Harm ..................................22
  Experience .........................24
  Credit, Fuel, & Supplies ......25
  Gear ...................................26
  Why Play ............................27
  The Playbooks ....................... 29
  The Bruiser .........................30
  The Envoy ..........................34
  The Greaser ........................38
  The Jockey.........................42
  The Junker .........................46
  The Runner .........................50
  The Sawbones ....................54
  The Smoker ........................58
  The Tech .............................62
  The Ship .............................66
  Fast-Talk ............................76
  Threaten Someone .............78
  Get in a Fight ......................80
  Hold Firm ............................82
  Act Fast ..............................84
  Get a Read ..........................86
  Make a Patch .....................88
  Scrape a Hulk .....................90
  Captain & Peripheral Moves ......93
  The Role of Captain ............94
  Reputation .........................95
  Alpha Dog ...........................96
  Get a Job ............................97
  Get Paid ..............................98
  Peripheral Moves ...............99
  The Choke .........................100
  Contacts ........................... 101
  Help ...................................102
  Death ................................104
  Ship Rooms & Moves ..............107
  Rooms ...............................108
  Hull ....................................109
  Engine ............................... 110
  Helm ...................................111
  Systems ............................ 112
  Cargo Hold ........................ 113
  Bunks ................................ 114
  Shuttle .............................. 115
  Guns .................................. 116
  Armory ...............................117
  Boarding Dock ................... 119
  Infirmary ...........................120
  Bolt-Holes ......................... 121
  Fly a Span .........................122
  Basic Moves ........................... 71
  Analyze Something ............ 72
  Repair Something................74
  
  5
  Playbook Moves ................... 123
  Bruiser Moves ...................124
  Envoy Moves .....................126
  Greaser Moves ..................128
  Jockey Moves ................... 131
  Junker Moves ....................133
  Runner Moves ...................136
  Sawbones Moves ..............138
  Smoker Moves ...................140
  Tech Moves .......................142
  The Master of Ceremonies ...... 145
  Agendas ............................147
  Principles ..........................148
  Moves ............................... 151
  Prep ..................................154
  Jobs .................................... 159
  Structure ........................... 161
  Legality .............................162
  The Haul ............................163
  The Ferry ...........................166
  The Escort .........................169
  The Hit ...............................173
  The Fetch ..........................176
  Multi-Jobs .........................180
  Gear and Stuff .......................181
  Weapons ...........................182
  Worn Gear .........................187
  Consumable Gear ..............189
  Buying and Selling Gear ....190
  The World .............................191
  How We Got Here ...............192
  The Aesthetic ....................193
  The Authority ....................195
  Crime & The Law ................196
  Hubs, Outposts, & Stations 197
  Mercury .............................199
  Venus ...............................200
  The Core ............................201
  Mars .................................203
  The Belt ............................204
  Jupiter .............................205
  Saturn ..............................207
  Uranus .............................209
  Neptune ............................ 211
  Pluto .................................213
  Beyond ..............................214
  Hacking the Game ................. 215
  Changing the Setting ........216
  New Moves ........................217
  Adding Playbooks .............218
  New Rooms .......................219
  Acknowledgements .............. 221
  Thanks .............................222
  Ludography ......................223
  Kickstarter Backers .........224
  Indices ................................225
  Useful Tables ...................226
  Moves Index .....................230
  Topical Index ....................234
  
  6
  ORIENTATION
  IF YOU’VE PLAYED RUST HULKS BEFORE AND ARE ITCHING TO GO:
  Don’t let me stand in your way—print out some sheets and go.
  IF YOU’VE NEVER PLAYED A ROLEPLAYING GAME BEFORE:
  Welcome! Read on, straight to the next page. If it seems intimidating to start 
  with, don’t worry; the heart of the game is telling stories with your friends, 
  and everything else is gravy. The rules are here to support and guide you, 
  not bind your every move.
  IF YOU’VE PLAYED SOME RPGs IN YOUR TIME:
  Read on. This game is going to play and feel a little different, both from more 
  traditional roleplaying games and from some other indie fare. Pay close at-
  tention to the relationship between players’ desires, the dice, and the out-
  comes; similarly, the scope of what’s possible in a single roll of the dice is 
  significantly different from many games. Don’t worry, though. You’ll figure 
  it all out.
  IF YOU’VE PLAYED A BUNCH OF “POWERED BY THE APOCALYPSE” 
  GAMES BEFORE:
  Things here will feel pretty familiar. You’re going to want to focus on the 
  rules for ships, the role of the Captain, and on the way chains and helping 
  interact with each other.
  
  7
  WHAT IS THIS?
  This is a game that you’ll play with some friends. You’ll make some charac-
  ters and a ship, you’ll roll some dice, and in general you’ll work together to 
  tell a story. As you go, the rules will guide the flow of the story; they add 
  drama and danger and structure to the beats of it all. 
  On its face, Rust Hulks is pretty simple: you and your crew get a job, you fly 
  to wherever that job takes you, and then finish the job and get paid. After-
  wards, you pick up a new job, and start the cycle anew. You will play as the 
  crew and captain of the ship, and will do everything you can to finish the job, 
  stay alive, and keep the ship in one piece.
  In reality, though, the game isn’t really about the jobs. One some level it 
  is, sure, but it’s more about desperation, about urgency, about keeping as 
  many plates spinning for as long as you can. The game will often force you 
  into situations where you don’t have quite enough, where you need to make 
  hard decisions, and where you only make it through on faith and luck. As you 
  push through it, you will find the relationships with your fellow crewmem-
  bers tested. If they survive, they’ll be all the stronger for it; but if they don’t, 
  things will get ugly, and fast.
  The game shines in moments of brazen, daring heroism hemmed in by dire, 
  critical issues. It is a game where playing the odds is always necessary, 
  where the risky choice is often the only choice. Sometimes, you will lose: 
  your job fails, your ship crashes, and your character dies. Sometimes, 
  though, you will win. And you will do it with the assurance that it was not 
  idle luck or happenstance that propelled you to success, but your own raw 
  grit, tenacity, and cunning.
  The rules of this game are based on Vincent and Meguey Baker’s Apocalypse 
  World, as well as its many hacks and variations—John Harper’s Blades in 
  the Dark, Hamish Cameron’s the Sprawl, Jason Morningstar’s Night Witches, 
  and many others. If you’ve played any of these games before, you’ll be right 
  at home out among the hulks.
  
  8
  CONTENT
  WARNINGS
  Rust Hulks is a game about a crew of desperate people trying to survive 
  at the fringes of a callous, capitalist solar system. The game itself can be 
  charming and fun, but also will have its serious, emotional moments.
  In terms of explicit content, there is a fair amount of violence, some strong 
  language is scattered throughout, references to alcohol and drugs, and lots 
  of authoritarian capitalists running around. It’s M-rated. I would recommend 
  your group use lines & veils, the X-Card, or both. Look them up. 
  Also, this RPG, like all other RPGs and all other art, is inherently political. 
  Anyone who says otherwise is either a fool or lying to you. 
  YOU WILL NEED
  For a session of Rust Hulks, you need:
  • Six-sided dice, about two per player
  • Printed playbooks and basic moves
  • Pencils and a sharpener
  • 3-5 other friends; one of you all is the MC
  • 3-4 hours, ish; sometimes more, rarely less
  TOUCHSTONES
  Movies: Serenity, Alien, 2001: A Space Odyssey, and Star Wars (mostly Rogue 
  One and the original). 
  TV: Firefly, Star Wars: Rebels, and The Expanse. 
  Games: FTL: Faster Than Light, Elite: Dangerous, Kerbal Space Program, and 
  Alien: Isolation.
  Theme Song: “Breakers Roar” by Sturgill Simpson.
  
  BASICS
  THE
  
  10
  It’s a few hundred years in the future. There was, for a while there, some-
  thing along the lines of a golden age, where the planets were settled and 
  humans spread out to the fringes of the system, but it didn’t last. 
  Now, the system is controlled by the Authority, the sole governing body 
  based on the Core—what used to be called Earth. Near the Core, on Venus 
  and Mercury and Mars, their grip is tight. Past the Belt, in what’s sometimes 
  called the frontier, things get looser. Way out in the deeps, past Uranus, 
  things get real strange. 
  In the past centuries, some planets have been terraformed, with air you can 
  breathe and soil you can walk on, but a lot of them haven’t. On the planets 
  that haven’t been terraformed, hubs and outposts —big and small settle-
  ments, basically—have to take special precautions to ensure that their in-
  habitants can live. 
  With the Authority controlling the last few natural resources, everyone else 
  is forced into reusing old shit, stuff that’s long since out of date but still 
  works. Every piece of tech and gear is on the verge of breaking, held togeth-
  er with weld lines, shoestrings, and luck.
  This is where you come in. You’re the crew of a big rusty spaceship, and 
  you’re desperately trying to stay afloat, bouncing from job to job and world 
  to world. 
  Good luck. 
  THE WORLD
  
  11
  CONVERSATION
  Roleplaying, at its core, is basically just a conversation. All of the players sit 
  around a table and talk, bouncing from listening to commenting to reacting 
  to monologuing to old-fashioned free-for-alls. 
  Unlike in a normal conversation, however, most of the conversation at a role-
  playing game’s table is concerned with the fictional events of the world. 
  The players describe what their characters do or say, somebody responds, 
  someone else responds to that, maybe some dice are rolled or some rules 
  are consulted, and the conversation continues. All of that talking over each 
  other and holding forth and general conversational messiness? All fine.
  Throughout the conversation, crewmembers will be created, conflicts will 
  emerge, tension will rise, and things will come to a head. One way or an-
  other, the conflict will resolve, and the conversation will go on. In this way, 
  more or less, story is created. Nobody at the table knows exactly how it’s 
  gonna go, and that’s a good thing; stories in roleplaying games are created 
  collaboratively—to try otherwise is foolishness.
  As the players work their way through the conversation (and thus the story), 
  the rules will come into effect. Not all the time and not in all situations, but 
  they will come into effect, one way or another. When they do, embrace them; 
  the rules are meant to add and build tension, to make the game and your 
  story better, juicier, more dramatic. 
  Roleplaying is a conversation; sometimes there are rules. Let the conversa-
  tion happen and let the rules happen. Simple, yeah?
  
  12
  MOVES
  Remember those dice I mentioned? In this game, those dice come into play 
  through things called moves. A move is a rule, or a set of rules; they are 
  constrained in some areas and flexible in others. Generally, a move works 
  like this:
  A player does something, usually something with an uncertain outcome, 
  that triggers the move. Dice are rolled, and the move is consulted. On a good 
  roll, the player gets what they want; on a bad one, they don’t. On a medium 
  roll, they get what they want, but at a cost: they will be forced into an ugly 
  outcome, to make a tough choice, or to accept a hard bargain. 
  Moves are all actionable. Things like fast-talk, analyze something, and 
  scrape a hulk are all moves. They’re verbs, or at least verb-y. 
  All moves in this game (and thus all dice rolls) work the same way: roll two 
  six-sided dice and add them together, sometimes adding another stat or 
  value to the roll. If that total is a 10 or higher (usually called a 10+), the move 
  is a success, and the player gets what they want. If the total is a 7, 8, or 9 
  (usually written as 7-9), they get that middling success, where they achieve 
  their goal but suffer cost for it. If the total is a 6 or lower—what’s called a 
  miss—the move fails, so the player suffers serious cost for no benefit.
  For when to trigger a move, the rule is as follows, pulled straight from the 
  pages of Apocalypse World: “to do it, do it.” 
  This goes both ways: if you, the player, want to threaten someone, you must 
  literally threaten them to do it, by saying how your crewmember pulls out a 
  shotgun and points it in someone’s face. You can’t threaten someone (the 
  move) and not actually threaten someone.
  The flipside to this is that you, can’t just pull a shotgun, point it in someone’s 
  face, and demand they do what you want or else without making the move 
  to threaten someone. You can’t just threaten someone without threatening 
  someone.
  
  13
  To do it, do it. 
  That said, this is a game that allows for some retraction. If a crewmember 
  pulls a shotgun and points it in someone’s face, the MC is in their rights to 
  make that player roll to threaten someone—at which point the player is 
  allowed to then realize that, wait no, they don’t actually want to roll that, so 
  they didn’t pull their shotgun out. That kind of rewinding and backtracking is 
  all fine. Players should commit and be committed to their moves, and every-
  one being on the same page is a key part of that committal. 
  (This is also a good time to mention that I, Sam the designer, will sometimes 
  shift the grammatical tenses of the moves to better suit the flow of the sen-
  tence itself; see scrape a hulk vs scraping a hulk. They all mean the same 
  move. Don’t sweat it.)
  Moves make up the core of the game. Everyone gets access to the basic 
  moves, and then every playbook gets its own, unique moves. Jockeys get 
  jockey moves, bruisers get bruiser moves, and so on. As crewmembers ad-
  vance, they will have the opportunity to take moves from other playbooks, 
  if they so wish. 
  HOLD, FORWARD, AND ONGOING:
  Several moves state that a crewmember should “hold” some number be-
  tween 1 and 3, and then later “spend” that hold. Essentially, this gives you a 
  number of charges, points, or tokens to spend—that’s the hold. When you 
  spend that hold, your total hold goes down by 1. Simple, yeah?
  Sometimes, a move will specify that a crewmember has “+1 forward.” This 
  means that the next roll they make, sometimes under specific parameters, 
  automatically adds +1 to the roll. 
  Very rarely, a move will say that a crewmember gets “+1 ongoing.” This 
  means that every roll they make while the specified effect is ongoing gets 
  +1 added to the roll. Very good, and very rare.
  If a move specifies -1 forward or -1 ongoing, it’s the exact same, but subtract 
  instead of add.
  
  14
  STATS
  Remember how I said that sometimes you add a stat to a roll when you make 
  a move? This is that. 
  Stats, short for statistics, are the basic attributes, traits, and qualities that 
  describe a crewmember. Stats are added to moves: when rolling those two 
  six-sided dice, add the stat to the mix as well. Stats usually range from about 
  -2 to +3: -2 is very bad, +3 is very good. Both are rare; -1 to +2 is a pretty 
  normal range for stats to fall. When a move says, for example, “roll+brain,” 
  that means you roll your two six-sided dice and then add your brain stat to 
  the total; if your stat’s negative, subtract it instead.
  The stats in Rust Hulks are:
  Brain: a crewmember’s wits, theoretical understanding, and bulk knowledge
  Face: a crewmember’s charm, personal sway, and social graces
  Spine: a crewmember’s toughness, grit, and ability to dish and take damage
  Gut: a crewmember’s intuition, quick reactions, and perceptiveness
  Junk: a crewmember’s ingenuity, resourcefulness, and practical knowledge
  It’s important to note that, unlike some other roleplaying games, these stats 
  are not meant to represent anything “in real life.” A crewmember’s brain 
  does not and should not correlate to their IQ, high school grades, or “intelli-
  gence;” likewise, a crewmember with good spine doesn’t need to be physi-
  cally strong, imposing, or even healthy. 
  Stats are all qualitative, rather than quantitative. It’s easier to understand 
  if you put in a sentence: “Oh yeah, she’s super brainy” or “He always goes 
  with his gut” or “Watch out, she’s got some real spine.” You see? You know 
  what all of those mean, and don’t need to try to assign them to literal numer-
  ical descriptors. Stats are meant to be figurative—embrace it. 
  
  15
  PLAYBOOKS
  In this game, most of the stuff the players deal with comes in what’s called 
  a “playbook.” It’s a two-sided sheet of paper that is part character sheet (so 
  the players can write down their stats and look and stuff) and part reference 
  sheet, in that it contains all of the info a player needs to play their specific 
  crewmember. 
  Playbooks have names like the bruiser, the junker, and the sawbones. Each 
  has a bunch of mechanics attached to it, in the form of special moves and 
  unique gear and other stuff; playbooks also carry a level of narrative attach-
  ment. The sawbones, the ship’s doctor, will always form bonds and con-
  nections with those they heal. The greaser, the ship’s engineer, will always 
  be able to fix the ship when others can’t. The mechanics come from the 
  narrative, and the narrative from the mechanics.
  Playbooks also contain a broad choice of options for choosing how to create 
  a character: options for stats, looks, gear, names, background info, and all 
  kinds of stuff. Generally, a player should stick to what’s on their playbook 
  for these options; if they want to go off-book, take a second to think about 
  it first. There’s a solid chance it’ll be fine, especially for their looks or name, 
  but it’s good hygiene to weight these decisions a smidge before approving 
  anything too drastic.
  Playbooks also contain a “dedicated room:” this is a room that is automat-
  ically added to the ship, from the crewmember in question. Each player 
  should work with you and the crew to figure how and why that room came to 
  be on the ship, and why that crewmember has a unique bond to it.
  You should print all nine playbooks out when you play, and set them up for 
  the first session.
  
  16
  CHAINS & HEAT
  As crewmembers work with each other, they will form bonds and connec-
  tions. These relationships, the relationships formed between crewmembers, 
  are called chains. Every crewmember has a chain with every other crew-
  member; the game will refer to “your chain with that crewmember” or “the 
  chain between two crewmembers,” so get used to it.
  Chains have two values: tightness and heat. Tightness is the general feel-
  ings of the relationship; heat is the intensity of those feelings.
  Tightness comes in three levels: slack, taut, and choking. A slack chain is a 
  good chain; it’s a friendly, caring relationship: friends or lovers or family. A 
  taut chain is a good chain with issues; it’s a once-friendly relationship sour-
  ing: friends with qualms, lovers on the rocks, family with grudges. A choking 
  chain is a bad relationship; one that may’ve been good (or not) but now has 
  gone very bad: harsh rivals, despised enemies, or staunch antagonists.
  Chains will move from slack to taut to choking and back again. Generally, 
  chains only move one level at a time. If a move calls for a crewmember to 
  loosen their chain, it means to move taut to slack, or choking to taut; it 
  means make it one better. If a move calls for a crewmember to tighten their 
  chain, it means the opposite: slack moves to taut, or taut moves to choking; 
  it means make it one worse. Very rarely, a move will call to tighten a chain 
  all the way to choking or loosen a chain all the way to slack, but this is un-
  common.
  Heat comes in four levels, tracked from +0 to +3; you can assign names 
  to these (cold, cool, warm, hot) if it helps, but it’s not necessary. A chain 
  with +0 heat is a relationship with no strong feelings; it’s very casual, very 
  relaxed, very uncaring. No matter what the tightness of the chain is, the 
  intensity is always low: casual acquaintances at best and mild nuisances 
  at worst. 
  
  17
  By contrast, a chain with +3 heat is all strong feelings; it’s passionate, fiery, 
  and full of emotion. A slack chain with +3 heat is closest family, dearest 
  friends, and profound love. Flip that over, and a choking chain with +3 heat 
  is the most hated rivals, the most loathed detractors, and the most bitter of 
  broken hearts. Like tightness, the heat of a chain will go up and down as the 
  relationship heats and cools; crewmembers that once were close might drift 
  apart, and crewmembers that started as strangers become well-known.
  The important detail to chains is that heat and tightness move independent 
  of each other. It’s entirely possible that a chain with +3 heat will go all the 
  way from slack to choking with no change in heat; likewise, a taut chain can 
  go from +0 heat up to +3 heat with no change in how tight the chain is. 
  It’s easier for lovers to turn to rivals, just as it’s unlikely faint annoyanc-
  es become deepest friends instantly. The feelings of the relationship and 
  the intensity of the relationship move independent of each other, and that 
  should be embraced.
  Chains and their heat are the main source of mechanical interplay between 
  characters. On long, boring hauls through the system, chains will still be 
  heating and cooling and tightening and loosening, and that will spark drama. 
  It will often get messy and uncomfortable, but you should encourage your 
  players to get involved in that messiness. Rust Hulks is about things going 
  awry and evolving over time: that extends to relationships, too.
  
  18
  THE SHIP
  In addition to the crew, every player in Rust Hulks belongs to a ship! Players 
  are the crew of the ship, hence why they are crewmembers.
  Ships are big and rusty and always falling apart. They’re cobbled together 
  from a dozen other ships, mixed in with spare parts and scrap metal. Every-
  thing is held together with duct tape, shoestrings, and welded sheets. 
  Ships are not a single contiguous body; rather, they’re a loose chassis with 
  a collection of rooms filling in the actual ship. The rooms are what make up 
  the actual ship: the engine, the helm, the systems, the hull, and so on. Each 
  room is individual, and should feel that way.
  The ship gets its own playbook, where the players will choose what rooms 
  their ship, what it looks like, and how it feels. The ship is where crewmem-
  bers will spend most of their time, and it’s where most of the game takes 
  place. It’s the crew’s workhorse, warship, and home.
  DRAWING THE SHIP:
  Players will also draw the ship. This is not optional: they must draw they 
  ship, and every player must contribute at least a little bit to it. As the ship 
  changes, so too will the drawing. 
  They should change the drawing of the ship when any of these happens:
  • A new room is added to the ship
  • A room increases in size
  • A room is destroyed
  • A room is repaired after being destroyed
  • Something dramatically changes the appearance of the ship
  How much the drawing of the ship changes and what those changes are is 
  up to them; some players go all-out and draw every tiny detail, some play-
  ers just draw some vague shapes and call it a day. All are fine; exceptional 
  artistry is by no means required. 
  
  19
  ROOMS
  As mentioned, ships are made up of rooms. A room is not always a liter-
  al room; sometimes it is, but it also might be a whole bunch of machines 
  and parts all chugging away with a little space for a crewmember to stand 
  and work on it. Either way is fine. Point is, ships are divided into separate, 
  segmented parts, which act semi-independently of each other, and we call 
  these parts rooms. 
  Rooms come in a whole bunch of flavors, like the engine and the boarding 
  dock and the cargo hold. Every room has its own special room move, which 
  functions exactly regular move, except that it requires a crewmember to be 
  in that room when the move is made. The boarding dock, for example, can 
  open a passageway from one ship to another—that’s its room move.
  Every room has two essential values: first is its size, how big (and thus 
  how good at its job) the room is. Size ranges from +0 to +3, going from tiny 
  (size+0) to small (size+1) to medium (size+2) to large (size+3); whenever a 
  room move says to roll+size, you roll and add that particular room’s size to 
  the roll. In some science fiction, things get sleeker and smaller as tech im-
  proves, but not here. In Rust Hulks, bigger is always better.
  The second value every room has is its personality: a room might be gentle 
  or rough, flashy or subtle, stubborn or neurotic—whatever it is, the room’s 
  got personality. It’s up to all of the players at the table to make sure that a 
  given room’s personality is felt. Rooms’ personalities have no direct, specif-
  ic mechanical effect, but will have an impact on the game, regardless. 
  You should change a room’s personality whenever that room’s drawing 
  changes: when the room is expanded, expand the personality; when the 
  room is destroyed, destroy the personality; when the room is repaired, re-
  pair the personality. 
  Each playbook adds a dedicated room: either a new room, or an upgrade 
  to an existing on. The player who added that room is responsible for that 
  room’s personality and drawing, from the beginning to the end.
  
  20
  JOBS
  Jobs are what crews do. They’re undertakings that involve travel across the 
  system, usually going to collect or bringing along something or someone, 
  and they have a payout at the end. 
  There are five kinds of jobs: 
  • the Haul: hauling a shipment of cargo
  • the Ferry: ferrying passengers to their destination 
  • the Escort: escorting a ship that needs protection 
  • the Hit: destroying or killing a target
  • the Fetch: going to retrieve something or someone and bringing it or 
  them elsewhere
  All jobs are dangerous, yes, but: Hauls and Ferries are relatively safe, Es-
  corts get more risky, and Hits and Fetches are the most dangerous by far. As 
  jobs get more dangerous, they pay more.
  Of each of those five, there are legal and illegal variants. Legal jobs are 
  less likely to attract the attention of the Authority, and thus pay smaller 
  amounts. Illegal jobs risk bringing the Authority down on the crew’s heads 
  (not to mention more criminal elements), but thus pay heftier dividends. 
  What kind of job the crew takes and which side of the law it crosses is up to 
  the Captain. They’ve got the moves for it, and while the crew can and should 
  offer input and suggestions, it’s the Captain’s call.
  
  21
  THE CAPTAIN
  Every crew needs a Captain. 
  In Rust Hulks, the crew of characters chooses their own Captain when ev-
  eryone is making their characters and the ship is being made. The process 
  should be unanimous: if one person is against another being Captain, deals 
  will have to be cut: credits, decision-making, or other favors will play in to 
  the process.
  Once the Captain is selected, they get access to all of the Captain Moves 
  (page 93), and they are the ones that choose which jobs the crew takes. 
  Exactly what obligation to the Captain the crew has varies, but the Captain 
  is in charge.
  If the crew wants a different Captain, they have two main methods: they can 
  force the Captain to step down, though there is no firm path for this and the 
  Captain always might resist, or they can murder their Captain. Mutiny is a 
  bloody, dangerous business.
  Mechanically, the only hard-and-fast rules concerning the succession of 
  Captains are that the Captain can step down whenever they please, and that 
  there must always be a Captain. As soon as the old one dies or steps down, 
  elect a new one. This should take precedence over more or less all jobs.
  If a Captain steps down, they lose all of their benefits: bonus stat, Captaincy 
  moves, and any other perks they might’ve accumulated along the way.
  
  22
  HARM
  Harm is damage, pain, destruction. It’s the catch-all term for the results of 
  violence. 
  All weapons have a harm value, ranging from 1-harm to 10-harm. 1-harm is 
  fists, 3-harm is a powerful gun, 6-harm is a ship-mounted cannon, and 10-
  harm is a souped-up thermo-torpedo that can punch a hole in a mountain. 
  Most weapons people can carry deal harm between 1 and 4; most weapons 
  ships can carry deal harm between 5 and 8.
  When a crewmember suffers harm, they check off boxes equal to the harm 
  they took, suffering the listed consequences, be they mechanical or other-
  wise.  Most crewmembers can take 5-harm; when they reach 5-harm, they 
  don’t immediately die, but instead consult the Death move (page 104) for 
  next moves.
  NPCs are more fragile. 1-harm will wound an NPC, 2-harm will have them 
  sprawled out on the verge of death, and 3-harm or more will kill them out-
  right. 
  Both crewmembers and NPCs can wear armor; clothing and bare skin pro-
  vides 0-armor, a bulletproof vest or tough leather jacket provides 1-armor, 
  and a full-body gear and metal plate provide 2-armor. Armor subtracts from 
  harm taken; if I’m wearing 1-armor and get with 3-harm, I only take 2-harm 
  total. Simple, yeah?
  Ships don’t take harm, exactly; instead, each room takes harm individually. 
  A room can take harm equal to its size plus one before it’s destroyed. A tiny 
  (size+0) room can only take 1-harm before getting destroyed, while a large 
  (size+3) room can take 4-harm before being destroyed. As each room is de-
  stroyed, the ship loses the functionality associated with that room. When a 
  room is destroyed, it’s important to note that it’s not strictly blown away to 
  smithereens—rather, it’s just broken so much that it’s stopped functioning. 
  SHIPS AND HARM
  
  23
  Chunks might be in smithereens, but the whole affair can still be at least 
  partially salvaged.
  Ships don’t have armor; instead, they have hull. Hull functions more or less 
  identically to armor, except that it applies to all rooms equally, and it ranges 
  all the way to +10. A ship with hull+4 negates 4-harm from any oncoming 
  harm, just like armor. Most ships have dramatically more hull than people 
  have armor, and thus are more or less immune to small arms fire.
  That said, hull only applies to harm coming from the outside, so if boarders 
  can breach a ship, they can do all sorts of damage, even with just their bare 
  hands. Ships are held together with duct tape and silly string, remember?
  
  24
  EXPERIENCE
  As they complete jobs, crewmembers will earn experience, or XP. XP comes 
  from a variety of sources: rolling a miss, completing jobs, specific moves, 
  and a few other places. After marking 6 XP, a crewmember can take an im-
  provement, getting new moves or new stat increases. When they mark an 
  improvement, a crewmember resets their XP back to 0, erasing all boxes.
  After marking 8 improvements, crewmembers can mark improvements from 
  a new section, which allows them to swap playbooks, get powerful up-
  grades, get a new ship or character, or retire their character to safety. 
  As they play, player should mark XP any time a move tells then; whenever 
  they hit 6 XP, they gain the benefits of they improvement immediately af-
  terwards. Doesn’t matter when or where, they get those benefits right now.
  XP, like a lot of other things in this game, is more figurative and metaphori-
  cal than it is strictly literal. Some games interpret XP as a direct increase in 
  knowledge or know-how or phyiscal capability, but this isn’t one of those 
  games. 
  In some senses, yes, XP is literal experience that characters accrue due 
  to failure and learning, but it’s other stuff, too. It might be a boost to their 
  morale or ego; it might be achieving a goal of theirs; it might be connecting 
  to other people or things. 
  It’s sort of mystical, in that sense; take it or leave it.
  
  25
  CREDIT, FUEL, 
  AND SUPPLIES
  Every ship needs fuel. Every crew needs supplies.
  Both of these, along with everything else in the game, cost credit. The credit 
  is the standard unit of currency in the system, backed by the Authority and 
  everyone else. 1-credit’s pretty valuable, worth a weapon or a repair job or 
  a bunch of food and water.
  Credit comes in three basic kinds:
  Sticks, or credsticks, which are bits of plastic with fiat value attached
  Goods, which are physical things or stuff that you can sell for value
  Scrap, which is raw materials and metal used to build things
  1-credit in each is worth the same: that is, 1-credit in sticks is worth 1-credit 
  in goods is worth 1-credit in scrap. The main difference between the three 
  is that scrap is used by some crewmembers to build things, and that goods 
  can be legal or illegal—which affects how you interact with the Authority.
  Both fuel and supplies are purchased on a per-span basis: that is, crews buy 
  a span’s worth of fuel, or a span’s worth of supplies. Any quantities smaller 
  than that are irrelevant, like a day or two spent at a station or something.
  Supplies for a crew for one span cost 1-credit. 
  Fuel for one span costs credits equal to the largest size room on the ship. If, 
  say, every room on a ship is size+1, fuel costs 1-credit for a span; if that ship 
  had all rooms at size+1 but a single room at size+3, it would cost 3-credit for 
  a span’s worth of fuel.
  To fly a span, a crew needs at least that one span’s worth of fuel and sup-
  plies. Without it, they can’t fly. At bare minimum, this means that every span 
  the crew flies costs them 2-credit, often more.
  
  26
  GEAR
  Gear is anything that a crewmember would use while aboard their ship. 
  Weapons, armor, and consumables are the most common kinds of gear, but 
  there are others.
  Weapons have tags; descriptors that modify how they operate. See the 
  chapter on gear (page 181) for a complete list of what those tags do. Ar-
  mor reduces oncoming harm, as already explained; space suits allow the 
  wearer to breathe and move in space. Consumables come in two varieties: 
  medpacks, which immediately restore 1-harm, and repair kits, which either 
  immediately repair 1-harm done to a room or can entirely repair one piece 
  of gear.
  Gear being broken is fairly common; when this happens, it needs to be re-
  paired, either by using a repair kit or else by repairing something. When a 
  piece of gear is broken, it’s entirely unusable.
  Almost all gear is worth 1-credit, and can be purchased pretty much any-
  where. Repairs for a piece of gear cost 1-credit; repairs for a ship room cost 
  1-credit per 1-harm repaired.
  Gear matters a lot out in the hulks. A lot of it’s passive, sort of just sitting 
  in the background providing generally benefit, but players will really notice 
  when it’s gone. There’s a reason that “break something” is a consequence 
  that shows up on nearly every move in the game: it hurts. Rust Hulks is a 
  game that, while not necessarily materialist in ideals, tries to acknowledge 
  the value and necessity of the material. Tie that into your game; make stuff 
  matter. As players get attached and then lose their gear to time or damage, 
  they’ll feel it all the more.
  
  27
  WHY PLAY
  Here’s why you should play Rust Hulks:
  First, because the characters are more than just scrap. You’ll play people 
  with real, engaging problems, ones that demand luck and tenacity to prevail. 
  You will work together to scrape by, to just barely make it through on the 
  skin of your teeth. You will be forced to hang together, and will live on the 
  constant edge of desperation. That’s good action. 
  Second, because the relationships you forge will be more than empty husks. 
  You and your fellow crewmembers will go through joys, doldrums, and hell 
  itself together, and it will force your relationships to change and evolve. The 
  tension and clashes you face will be full and complicated, full of messy his-
  tory and uncomfortable moments. That’s good drama.
  Third, because this world is our world. Rust Hulks is not a particularly specu-
  lative game in the traditional “hard” sci-fi sense, but it does take place in 
  a possible vision of our future. The game’s setting is that of the capitalist 
  hellscape, where huge authoritarian organizations control all capital, and 
  everyone else is left fighting for the scraps. That’s bad shit, but it’s import-
  ant to face, even in a heavily-altered game. 
  Try it. See what meaning you can find, out in the hulks.
  
  28
  
  PLAY-
  THE
  BOOKS
  
  30
  THE BRUISER
  Rough and tumble, big and strong: the virtues of the bruiser may be simple, but their raw tenacity should never 
  be underestimated.
  The bruiser can rip people to shreds, fully arm and equip the crew, threaten people, interrogate prisoners, and 
  stand fully head and shoulders above all other crewmembers in terms of raw combat ability.
  If you want to be the absolute toughest fucker on the block, play a bruiser.
  
  31
  MAKING A BRUISER
  To make a bruiser, choose a name, stat array, look, hometown, history, moves, and gear.
  NAME
  Hog, Scar, Krieger, Slapjaw, Slick, T, Cobb, Rath, Kee-
  ler, Flank, Charlie, Hambone, or Legger
  A meaty name, a roughshod name, a combative 
  name, a slangy name
  STATS
  The Sarge:
  [Brain +1, Face +0, Spine +1, Gut +1, Junk -1]
  The Grunt:
  [Brain +0, Face +0, Spine +1, Gut +1, Junk +0]
  The Muscle: 
  [Brain -1, Face -1, Spine +2, Gut +0, Junk +1]
  The Enforcer:
  [Brain -1, Face +1, Spine +2, Gut +0, Junk -1]
  LOOK
  Scrapyard armor, Authority armor, scrounged armor, 
  spacewalker armor, ancient armor, painted armor, or 
  homemade armor
  Bruised face, painted face, broad face, bony face, 
  crusty face, ridged face, scarred face, misshapen 
  face, or tattooed face
  Crazy eyes, hard eyes, calculating eyes, watery 
  eyes, hawkish eyes, beady eyes, swollen eyes, 
  shifty eyes, or shadowed eyes
  Massive body, built body, sharp body, fleshy body, 
  broken body, gnarled body, scarred body, stringy 
  body, square body, or tattooed body
  HOMETOWN
  Mercury, Venus, the Core, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Ura-
  nus, Neptune, or Pluto
  Luna, Deimos, Phobos, Io, Ganymede, Europa, Cal-
  listo, Enceladus, Titan, Miranda, Titania, Umbriel, 
  Oberon, Ariel, Triton, or Charon 
  The Belt, a station, or a ship
  MOVES
  You get all the basic moves. You get contacts, and 
  then choose 3 bruiser moves.
  When you get the chance, look up get in a fight, hold 
  firm, and act fast.
  GEAR
  You start with a sidearm, two serious weapons, and 
  a big fuck-off gun (cf. armory), plus armor suited to 
  your look worth 2-armor, pullover space gear, and 
  sticks worth 2-credit.
  DEDICATED ROOM
  The the ship gets a small armory (size+1), fully 
  stocked. You should decide what most of the weap-
  ons in the armory are ahead of time.
  HISTORY
  Academia, Authority, colonies, drifting, labor, 
  mercenary, merchant, piracy, underworld, or up-
  per-crust
  If you are chosen to be the ship’s Captain, you im-
  mediately take +1 to any stat of your choice, to a 
  maximum of +3. You immediately get all the Captain 
  moves, plus mess with them, mess with me. You 
  decide which jobs the ship takes, how the pay gets 
  divided, and have command of the crew.
  CAPTAINCY
  Everyone immediately heats their chain with you.
  Mess with them, mess with me. At the start of a 
  job, roll+gut. On a 10+, hold 3. On a 7-9, hold 2. At 
  any point, if someone on your crew’s in trouble 
  (or is about to be), spend your hold and you are 
  there, ready to go. On a miss, you still hold 1, 
  but your crew—not you—gets to decide when 
  and where it is you show up.
  p
  
  32
  BRAIN
  FACE
  SPINE
  GUT
  JUNK
  BRUISER MOVES
  Tough as nails. You get +1 spine (max+3).
  Not on my turf. When you take or deal harm to or from a person and are on or around 
  the ship, take -1 harm and deal +1 harm ongoing.
  Gloves come off. When you threaten someone, roll+spine instead of +face. 
  You were saying? When you’re present when the Captain gets a job, give them +1 on 
  the roll. When the Captain rolls to get paid, you know how and when each thing that 
  goes wrong will go wrong. If you’re the Captain, this move applies to yourself.
  Kneecapper. When you capture someone and interrogate them for information, you 
  get +1 hold for contacts.
  Black ops. All of your weapons lose loud or messy if they have them, and gain no-
  air. This applies to your armory weapons, too. Your armory also gains three sets of 
  pullover space suits.
  Comrades in arms. When you fight shoulder-to-shoulder with another crew member, 
  you both take +1 armor ongoing. Afterwards, loosen your chain with them, or you both 
  heat your chain (your call).
  Bloodbath. When you get in a fight with or threaten one of your fellow crew members, 
  you can roll+heat instead of +spine or +face.
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  CONTACTS
  At the start of a job, hold 1. At any time throughout 
  the job, when you need someone with specific skills 
  or connections, you can spend your hold, 1 for 1, and 
  there’ll be somebody who fits the bill right there, or 
  at least nearby: roll+face. On a 10+, they’re friendly 
  and will gladly help for a good price. On a 7-9, they’re 
  around, yeah, but they’ll bring trouble, too. On a miss, 
  they’ll help you, but there’ll be hell to pay afterwards.
  Your contacts might be people like:
  • Ridgeback, a mercenary captain
  • Wester, a bounty fixer
  • Cleft, a demolitions expert
  • Dox, an everyman ship mechanic
  • Cricket, a scavenged weapons dealer
  • Richter, a dirty Authority medic
  EXPERIENCE
  pppppp
  when you roll a miss, mark XP
  At the end of a job, mark XP for each of these 
  that you did; if you did them more than once, 
  mark XP twice.
  • you addressed a challenge with violence, 
  threats, or destruction
  • you were influenced by your hometown or 
  history
  • one of your chains went from slack to 
  choking, or choking to slack
  • you made a room’s personality felt
  • you made a decision for the whole crew, 
  with or without their input
  OTHER MOVES
  
  33
  NAME:
  HOMETOWN:
  HISTORY:
  LOOK:
  THE BRUISER
  NOTES & GEAR
  HARM
  1-harm: shaken, scraped, or bruised
  p
  2-harm: cracked, slashed, or burned
  p
  3-harm: bloodied, scorched, or shattered
  p
  4-harm: unconscious or out of action
  p
  5-harm: dead
  p
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  CHAINS
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  IMPROVEMENT
  after marking 6 XP, reset and improve
  p
  p
  p
  p
  ppp
  ppp
  get +1 spine (max+3)
  get +1 gut (max+3)
  get +1 gut (max+3)
  get +1 junk (max+2)
  get another bruiser move
  get a move from another playbook
  after improving 8 times, you can choose from this 
  list as well:
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  get +1 to any stat (max+3)
  change to a new playbook
  make a piece of gear unbreakable
  create a second character
  get a second ship chassis
  retire to safety and wealth
  
  34
  THE ENVOY
  Charming and elegant, the envoy fits in just about anywhere, be it high society parties or lowlife street cor-
  ners—after all, a silver tongue is useful everywhere.
  The envoy can make and break peace deals, call in friends and allies, fool marks, pass by Authority operatives, 
  and sidestep myriad social problems.
  If you want to be smooth, sly, and above all, wicked social—play an envoy.
  
  35
  MAKING AN ENVOY
  To make an envoy, choose a name, stat array, look, hometown, history, moves, and gear.
  NAME
  Nix, Shand, Echo, Delta, Belacqua, Villanelle, Graves, 
  Bantam, Siena, Shiver, Issa, Jacoby, Daud, Cross, or 
  Vestra
  an elegant name, a romantic name, a commanding 
  name, a gentle name
  STATS
  The Negotiator:
  [Brain +0, Face +1, Spine +1, Gut +1, Junk -1]
  The Fixer:
  [Brain +1, Face +1, Spine -1, Gut +0, Junk +1]
  The Tactician: 
  [Brain +1, Face +2, Spine +1, Gut -1, Junk -2]
  The Diplomat:
  [Brain +0, Face +2, Spine -2, Gut +1, Junk +0]
  LOOK
  Authority fashion, offworld fashion, patchwork 
  fashion, gaudy fashion, off-the-shelf fashion, or 
  scavenged fashion
  Serene face, impassive face, expressive face, stern 
  face, wide face, shifty face, scrubbed face, or 
  made-up face
  Blinking eyes, glassy eyes, warm eyes, soft eyes, 
  worn eyes, piercing eyes, crinkled eyes, or shad-
  owed eyes
  Spare body, attractive body, chunky body, smooth 
  body, stout body, waxy body, rough body, or tat-
  tooed body
  HOMETOWN
  Mercury, Venus, the Core, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Ura-
  nus, Neptune, or Pluto
  Luna, Deimos, Phobos, Io, Ganymede, Europa, Cal-
  listo, Enceladus, Titan, Miranda, Titania, Umbriel, 
  Oberon, Ariel, Triton, or Charon 
  The Belt, a station, or a ship
  MOVES
  You get all the basic moves. You get contacts, and 
  then choose 2 envoy moves.
  When you get the chance, look up fast-talk, threat-
  en someone, and get a read.
  GEAR
  You get fashion matching your look, and a covert 
  weapon.
  Covert weapon:
  • derringer, 2-harm close loud reload
  • wrist shotgun, 3-harm close messy reload
  • syringe, s-harm intimate refill
  • stiletto, 2-harm hand
  You also get sticks worth 4-credit.
  DEDICATED ROOM
  The ship gets a small shuttle (size+1)—your shut-
  tle—that’s decked out with stuff you need: clothes, 
  finery, a big desk, a safe, a little table and a couple 
  of chairs for you to serve drinks, the works.
  HISTORY
  Academia, Authority, colonies, drifting, labor, 
  mercenary, merchant, piracy, underworld, or up-
  per-crust
  If you are chosen to be the ship’s Captain, you im-
  mediately take +1 to any stat of your choice, to a 
  maximum of +3. You immediately get all the Captain 
  moves, plus expert negotiator. You decide which 
  jobs the ship takes, how the pay gets divided, and 
  have command of the crew.
  CAPTAINCY
  Everyone immediately heats their chain with you.
  Expert negotiator. When you get paid, you al-
  ways choose one extra option.
  p
  
  36
  BRAIN
  FACE
  SPINE
  GUT
  JUNK
  ENVOY MOVES
  Boundless grace. You get +1 face (max+3).
  Social butterfly. At the start of a job, roll+face. On a 10+, hold 3; on a 7-9, hold 2; on 
  a miss, hold 1 anyway. When one of your chains would tighten, you can spend your 
  hold, 1 for 1, to keep at as-is instead.
  False surrender. When you get in a fight with people using a weapon small enough 
  to fit in one hand, roll+face instead of +spine. Any harm you deal like this counts as 
  armor piercing (ap).
  Diplomatic immunity. If you’re talking with someone and they start a fight (and it 
  really does need to be them that starts it, it can’t just be someone that isn’t you), take 
  +2 armor ongoing until the fight ends.
  Peacemaker. When you go to two people that have a strained or choking chain (which 
  could include you) and make peace between them, roll+face. On a 10+, they both heat 
  their chain and loosen their chain. On a 7-9, they still loosen their chain, but cool it 
  instead. On a miss, they heat and tighten their chain, and each of their chains with 
  you tighten, too.
  Power beyond. When you threaten someone, you can do it with some form of power 
  that isn’t yours, but you could bring to bear—like the Authority. If your hand is forced, 
  you can retreat to summon that power: roll+face. On a 10+, they help you, it’s good. 
  On a 7-9, they’ll help you, but there’s a cost. On a miss, they won’t help, and are real 
  upset.
  Isolation therapy. When you threaten a crew member, you can threaten them with 
  tightening one of their chains all the way to choking.
  The human element. When you fast-talk or get a read on another crew member, you 
  can roll+heat instead of a +face or +gut.
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  CONTACTS
  At the start of a job, hold 3. At any time throughout 
  the job, when you need someone with specific skills 
  or connections, you can spend your hold, 1 for 1, and 
  there’ll be somebody who fits the bill right there, or 
  at least nearby: roll+face. On a 10+, they’re friendly 
  and will gladly help for a good price. On a 7-9, they’re 
  around, yeah, but they’ll bring trouble, too. On a miss, 
  they’ll help you, but there’ll be hell to pay afterwards.
  Your contacts might be people like:
  • Kell, an Authority hunter captain
  • Grigsby, a retired spy
  • Sharpe, a job fixer and middleman
  • Waxer, a tailor and clothier
  • Vin, a luxurious “hotelier”
  • Fogg, a pawn shop dealer
  EXPERIENCE
  pppppp
  when you roll a miss, mark XP
  At the end of a job, mark XP for each of these 
  that you did; if you did them more than once, 
  mark XP twice.
  • you addressed a challenge with charm, 
  diplomacy, or deception
  • you were influenced by your hometown or 
  history
  • one of your chains went from slack to 
  choking, or choking to slack
  • you made a room’s personality felt
  • you made a decision for the whole crew, 
  with or without their input
  OTHER MOVES
  Sanctioned and legitimate. Whenever you deal with the Authority in a legitimate ca-
  pacity, take +1 ongoing.
  p
  
  37
  NAME:
  HOMETOWN:
  HISTORY:
  LOOK:
  THE ENVOY
  NOTES & GEAR
  HARM
  1-harm: shaken, scraped, or bruised
  p
  2-harm: cracked, slashed, or burned
  p
  3-harm: bloodied, scorched, or shattered
  p
  4-harm: unconscious or out of action
  p
  5-harm: dead
  p
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  CHAINS
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  IMPROVEMENT
  after marking 6 XP, reset and improve
  p
  p
  p
  p
  ppp
  ppp
  get +1 face (max+3)
  get +1 brain (max+2)
  get +1 spine (max+2)
  get +1 gut (max gut+2)
  get another envoy move
  get a move from another playbook
  after improving 8 times, you can choose from this 
  list as well:
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  get +1 to any stat (max+3)
  change to a new playbook
  make a piece of gear unbreakable
  create a second character
  get a second ship chassis
  retire to safety and wealth
  
  38
  THE GREASER
  Smart and utilitarian, the greaser maintains the ship through thick and thin; any ship with a greaser aboard will 
  find its engines hot and roaring, no matter the circumstances.
  The greaser can eke power and juice out of the engine, fix all sorts of things, rig up defenses, and repair rooms 
  on the fly.
  If you want to hum with the engine and shudder with the ship, play a greaser.
  
  39
  MAKING A GREASER
  To make a greaser, choose a name, stat array, look, hometown, history, moves, and gear.
  NAME
  Chaps, Spinner, Frye, Null, Cowl, Quipper, Wrack, 
  Stickleback, Rho, Wedge, Kilo, Tonker, Clamps, Fritz, 
  or Locke
  A technical name, a simple name, an energetic 
  name, or a choppy name
  STATS
  The Engie:
  [Brain +1, Face -1, Spine +0, Gut +1, Junk +1]
  The Architect:
  [Brain +2, Face +1, Spine +0, Gut +0, Junk -2]
  The Mechaniker: 
  [Brain +2, Face -1, Spine -1, Gut +0, Junk +1]
  The Sapper:
  [Brain +1, Face +0, Spine +1, Gut +1, Junk -1]
  LOOK
  Patchwork jumpsuit, scrounged jumpsuit, Authority 
  jumpsuit, ancient jumpsuit, replaceable jumpsuit, or 
  stained jumpsuit
  Worn face, rough face, baby face, cool face, mis-
  chievous face, nervous face, stained face, or hot 
  face
  Focused eyes, tired eyes, bloodshot eyes, clear 
  eyes, distant eyes, foggy eyes, discolored eyes, or 
  swollen eyes
  Calloused hands, cracked hands, greasy hands, 
  filthy hands, clever hands, gnarled hands, tattooed 
  hands, or cold hands
  HOMETOWN
  Mercury, Venus, the Core, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Ura-
  nus, Neptune, or Pluto
  Luna, Deimos, Phobos, Io, Ganymede, Europa, Cal-
  listo, Enceladus, Titan, Miranda, Titania, Umbriel, 
  Oberon, Ariel, Triton, or Charon 
  The Belt, a station, or a ship
  MOVES
  You get all the basic moves. You also get machinist, 
  contacts, then choose 2 greaser moves.
  When you get the chance, look up repair something 
  and make a patch, plus the engine room move.
  GEAR
  You get a jumpsuit suitable to your look, a last-
  chance weapon, and a wrench (2-harm hand).
  Last-chance weapons:
  • icepick, 3-harm hand messy
  • welding torch, 4-harm intimate messy refill
  • buzz saw, 3-harm hand messy autofire
  • nail gun, 2-harm close messy
  You also start with scrap worth 2-credit and sticks 
  worth 1-credit.
  DEDICATED ROOM
  The ship gets +2 hull.
  Then, the engine gets +1 size (max size+3).
  If you are chosen to be the ship’s Captain, you im-
  mediately take +1 to any stat of your choice, to a 
  maximum of +3. You immediately get all the Captain 
  moves, plus durable frameworks. You decide which 
  jobs the ship takes, how the pay gets divided, and 
  have command of the crew.
  CAPTAINCY
  Everyone immediately heats their chain with you.
  Durable frameworks. Each room in the ship 
  counts as 1 size larger for the purpose of deter-
  mining harm. A room with size+2, for example, 
  could take 4-harm (rather than 3-harm) before 
  being destroyed entirely.
  p
  Chubby body, slight body, haggard body, young 
  body, strained body, tattooed body, burned body, 
  or spritely body
  HISTORY
  Academia, Authority, colonies, drifting, labor, 
  mercenary, merchant, piracy, underworld, or up-
  per-crust
  
  40
  BRAIN
  FACE
  SPINE
  GUT
  JUNK
  GREASER MOVES
  Machinist. When you repair something, you can repair a ship’s room like any other 
  object. Spend 1-credit in scrap, then roll+brain. On a 7-9, you repair 1 point of harm; on 
  a 10+, you repair 1 point of harm and get your 1-credit in scrap back, too. On a miss, 
  the room suffers 1-harm (ap) and your scrap is blown.
  Well-learned. You get +1 brain (max+3). 
  Crazy Ivan. You can pull a stunt from the engine, using the engine’s size in place of 
  the helm’s, just like it was made from the helm
  Idiot-proofing. At the beginning of a job, roll+brain. On a 10+, hold 3. On a 7-9, hold 2. 
  Anytime somebody on the ship would fuck around with anything of yours, you can 
  spend your hold, 1 for 1, to immediately inflict 3-harm. If you choose, you can make 
  them aware of this beforehand. On a miss, hold 1 anyway, but when you use your hold, 
  the thing they were going for breaks anyway.
  Expert engineering. When you make an engine move or any move that requires you to 
  be in the engine room, add your brain to the roll.
  Navicom control frequency. You can make engine moves anywhere on or around the 
  ship. This applies to any of your moves that require you to be in the engine room, too.
  System overclock. When you pump power from the engine to another room, roll+brain. 
  On a 10+, that room counts as having +1 size ongoing, until you stop pumping. On a 
  7-9, that room counts as having +1 size ongoing, but afterwards either you or that 
  room take 1-harm (ap). On a miss, you and the room both take 1-harm (ap) for nothing.
  Just forgot a repair. When one of your chains would tighten, you can instead choose 
  to retreat to the engine room for a long while. While you’re there, you can’t talk to 
  anybody and nobody can talk to you.
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  CONTACTS
  At the start of a job, hold 1. At any time throughout 
  the job, when you need someone with specific skills 
  or connections, you can spend your hold, 1 for 1, and 
  there’ll be somebody who fits the bill right there, or 
  at least nearby: roll+brain. On a 10+, they’re friendly 
  and will gladly help for a good price. On a 7-9, they’re 
  around, yeah, but they’ll bring trouble, too. On a miss, 
  they’ll help you, but there’ll be hell to pay afterwards.
  Your contacts might be people like:
  • Shakes, a salvage-runner
  • Rao, a scrapyard owner
  • Tiptop, a demolitions expert
  • Foxtrot, a Belt miner    
  • Hamish, a back-alley surgeon
  • Auckes, a station-master
  EXPERIENCE
  pppppp
  when you roll a miss, mark XP
  At the end of a job, mark XP for each of these 
  that you did; if you did them more than once, 
  mark XP twice.
  • you addressed a challenge with repairs, 
  wits, or the ship itself
  • you were influenced by your hometown or 
  history
  • one of your chains went from slack to 
  choking, or choking to slack
  • you made a room’s personality felt
  • you made a decision for the whole crew, 
  with or without their input
  OTHER MOVES
  A friend in need. When a crew member comes to you to have something of theirs 
  repaired, you can roll+heat instead of +brain. Either way, after you repair it, loosen 
  your chain with them, or you both heat your chain (your call).
  p
  
  41
  NAME:
  HOMETOWN:
  HISTORY:
  LOOK:
  THE GREASER
  NOTES & GEAR
  HARM
  1-harm: shaken, scraped, or bruised
  p
  2-harm: cracked, slashed, or burned
  p
  3-harm: bloodied, scorched, or shattered
  p
  4-harm: unconscious or out of action
  p
  5-harm: dead
  p
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  CHAINS
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  IMPROVEMENT
  after marking 6 XP, reset and improve
  p
  p
  p
  p
  ppp
  ppp
  get +1 brain (max+3)
  get +1 gut (max+2)
  get +1 junk (max+2)
  get +1 spine (max+2)
  get another greaser move
  get a move from another playbook
  after improving 8 times, you can choose from this 
  list as well:
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  get +1 to any stat (max+3)
  change to a new playbook
  make a piece of gear unbreakable
  create a second character
  get a second ship chassis
  retire to safety and wealth
  
  42
  THE JOCKEY
  Daring ace, long hauler, resolute pilot. The jockey wears many hats, but they will always be found where they 
  belong: at the helm, flying the ship, wherever it may go.
  The jockey is an ace pilot, entirely without peer at the helm. They have solid intuition, a plan for every situa-
  tion, good combat instincts, and can make sure the helm’s always working, at least a bit.
  If you adore the open sky and love being in control of your own fate, play the jockey.
  
  43
  MAKING A JOCKEY
  To make a jockey, choose a name, stat array, look, hometown, history, moves, and gear.
  NAME
  STATS
  The Recon:
  [Brain +0, Face -1, Spine +1, Gut +1, Junk +1]
  The Driver:
  [Brain -1, Face -1, Spine +0, Gut +2, Junk +1]
  The Hot-Shot: 
  [Brain -1, Face +1, Spine +0, Gut +2, Junk -1]
  The Aviator:
  [Brain +1, Face +1, Spine -1, Gut +1, Junk +0]
  LOOK
  Patchwork duds, vintage leathers, scrapyard wear, 
  decorated clothes, off-the-line jumpsuit, or Author-
  ity flightsuit
  Pinched face, smooth face, windswept face, goofy 
  face, dashing face, square face, gorgeous face, or 
  wise face
  Bright eyes, wild eyes, steely eyes, wide eyes, fi-
  ery eyes, frosty eyes, squinting eyes, crinkly eyes, 
  deep eyes, or laughing eyes
  HOMETOWN
  Mercury, Venus, the Core, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Ura-
  nus, Neptune, or Pluto
  Luna, Deimos, Phobos, Io, Ganymede, Europa, Cal-
  listo, Enceladus, Titan, Miranda, Titania, Umbriel, 
  Oberon, Ariel, Triton, or Charon 
  The Belt, a station, or a ship
  MOVES
  You get all the basic moves. You get contacts, then 
  choose 3 jockey moves.
  When you get the chance, look up get a read, act 
  fast, and make a patch.
  GEAR
  You get duds worth 1-armor suitable to your look, a 
  sidearm, and sticks worth 2-credit.
  Sidearms:
  • big ugly jackknife, 2-harm hand
  • handgun, 2-harm close loud
  • sawnoff, 3-harm close messy reload
  • stunner, s-harm close no-air
  DEDICATED ROOM
  The helm’s size increases by 1, to a maximum of +3.
  Then, choose 1:
  • the hull increases by +2
  • the ship gains a small cargo hold (size+1)
  • the ship gains small bunks (size+1)
  If you are chosen to be the ship’s Captain, you im-
  mediately take +1 to any stat of your choice, to a 
  maximum of +3. You immediately get all the Captain 
  moves, plus trader’s routes. You decide which jobs 
  the ship takes, how the pay gets divided, and have 
  command of the crew.
  CAPTAINCY
  Everyone immediately heats their chain with you.
  Trader’s routes. When you travel a span, you 
  choose +1 option on a 10+ and choose -1 option 
  on a miss.
  p
  Skinny body, rangy body, rough-hewn body, fleshy 
  body, cute body, scuffed body, or smooth body
  Silver, Ringo, Ace, Isla, Rosie, K. T., Burns, Sparky, 
  Bravo, Booker, McClellan, Fox, Danger, Yankee, 
  Snips, Dusky, or Tango
  A gallant name, a cheeky name, a good ol’ name, a 
  cute name
  HISTORY
  Academia, Authority, colonies, drifting, labor, 
  mercenary, merchant, piracy, underworld, or up-
  per-crust
  
  44
  BRAIN
  FACE
  SPINE
  GUT
  JUNK
  JOCKEY MOVES
  Daring-do. You get +1 gut (max +3).
  Keen eyed. When you get a read, you always ask one extra question, and take +2 
  when you act on the MC’s answers.
  Dogfighter. When someone gets into a fight against another ship and you’re at the 
  helm, on a 7-9, you decide where the enemy targets, instead of the MC.
  Getaway driver. At the start of a job, roll+gut. On a 10+, hold 2. On a 7-9, hold 1. At any 
  point during the job while you’re on the ship, you can spend your hold, 1 for 1, to have 
  the ship be where it needs to be, ready to go. On a miss, hold 1 anyway, but when you 
  get there, you’re caught there, stuck where you arrived.
  Loop-the-loop. When you pull a stunt, you can add your gut to the roll. When the 
  ship’s in combat, you can pull a stunt to add your gut to the ship’s hull, ongoing, so 
  long as you’re at the helm.
  Autonav relay. You can fly the ship and make helm moves from anywhere on or 
  around the ship. This includes moves that require you to be at the helm.
  Busy flying, don’t bother me. When one of your chains would tighten, you can instead 
  choose to retreat to the helm for a long while. While you’re there, you can’t talk to 
  anybody and nobody can talk to you.
  Old reliable. The helm cannot be shut down by an EMP, or anything similar. If the helm 
  is destroyed, successfully making a patch for it restores a single point of harm.
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  CONTACTS
  At the start of a job, hold 1. At any time throughout 
  the job, when you need someone with specific skills 
  or connections, you can spend your hold, 1 for 1, and 
  there’ll be somebody who fits the bill right there, or 
  at least nearby: roll+face. On a 10+, they’re friendly 
  and will gladly help for a good price. On a 7-9, they’re 
  around, yeah, but they’ll bring trouble, too. On a miss, 
  they’ll help you, but there’ll be hell to pay afterwards.
  Your contacts might be people like:
  • Joker, a fellow helmsperson
  • Whippet, a wholesale trader
  • Marszie, a station master
  • Dawson, an Authority bookkeeper
  • Vex, a black market fixer
  • Shammy, a pirate captain
  EXPERIENCE
  pppppp
  when you roll a miss, mark XP
  At the end of a job, mark XP for each of these 
  that you did; if you did them more than once, 
  mark XP twice.
  • you addressed a challenge with daring, 
  talent, or wits
  • you were influenced by your hometown or 
  history
  • one of your chains went from slack to 
  choking, or choking to slack
  • you made a room’s personality felt
  • you made a decision for the whole crew, 
  with or without their input
  OTHER MOVES
  
  45
  NAME:
  HOMETOWN:
  HISTORY:
  LOOK:
  THE JOCKEY
  NOTES & GEAR
  HARM
  1-harm: shaken, scraped, or bruised
  p
  2-harm: cracked, slashed, or burned
  p
  3-harm: bloodied, scorched, or shattered
  p
  4-harm: unconscious or out of action
  p
  5-harm: dead
  p
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  CHAINS
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  IMPROVEMENT
  after marking 6 XP, reset and improve
  p
  p
  p
  p
  ppp
  ppp
  get +1 gut (max+3)
  get +1 face (max+2)
  get +1 spine (max+2)
  get +1 junk (max+2)
  get another jockey move
  get a move from another playbook
  after improving 8 times, you can choose from this 
  list as well:
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  get +1 to any stat (max+3)
  change to a new playbook
  make a piece of gear unbreakable
  create a second character
  get a second ship chassis
  retire to safety and wealth
  
  46
  THE JUNKER
  Junkers are what the world has created: they are the only ones truly at home out among the hulks, where they 
  transform one person’s trash into something of value.
  The junker is a scavenger and improviser, first and foremost. They can take apart anything and remake it into 
  something new, beef up rooms in effectiveness, and find anything they need on a hulk.
  If you want gear for every occasion and to be perpetually neck-deep in scrap, play a junker.
  
  47
  MAKING A JUNKER
  To make a junker, choose a name, stat array, look, hometown, history, moves, and gear.
  NAME
  STATS
  The Scav:
  [Brain -1, Face -1, Spine +0, Gut +1, Junk +2]
  The Scrapper:
  [Brain +0, Face -1, Spine +1, Gut +1, Junk+1]
  The Inventor: 
  [Brain +1, Face +1, Spine -1, Gut +0, Junk +1]
  The Can Opener:
  [Brain +1, Face +0, Spine +1, Gut -1, Junk +2]
  LOOK
  Patched wear, scrounged wear, industrial wear, 
  home-made wear, looted wear, reinforced wear, or 
  ancient wear
  Sweaty face, sunken face, coarse face, grimy face, 
  scruffy face, scabbed face, lined face, twisted face, 
  or weathered face
  Keen eyes, suspicious eyes, weak eyes, frosty 
  eyes, shifty eyes, blinking eyes, puffy eyes, infect-
  ed eyes, or heterochromatic eyes
  HOMETOWN
  Mercury, Venus, the Core, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Ura-
  nus, Neptune, or Pluto
  Luna, Deimos, Phobos, Io, Ganymede, Europa, Cal-
  listo, Enceladus, Titan, Miranda, Titania, Umbriel, 
  Oberon, Ariel, Triton, or Charon 
  The Belt, a station, or a ship
  MOVES
  You get all the basic moves. You get strip, melt, 
  grind, smelt, contacts, and then choose 1 junker 
  move.
  When you get the chance, look up make a patch, 
  scrape a hulk, and repair something.
  GEAR
  You get wear suited to your look, an off-ship weap-
  on you made yourself, a pullover space suit, and 
  your junker’s kit.
  Off-ship weapons (that you made yourself):
  • boarding axe or crowbar, 3-harm hand messy
  • stunner, s-harm close reload no-air
  • crossbow, 2-harm close reload slow no-air
  • many many knives, 2-harm hand infinite
  DEDICATED ROOM
  Any two rooms of your choice on the ship get +1 
  size, each, to a maximum of size+2.
  If you are chosen to be the ship’s Captain, you im-
  mediately take +1 to any stat of your choice, to a 
  maximum of +3. You immediately get all the Cap-
  tain moves, plus ripper job. You decide which jobs 
  the ship takes, how the pay gets divided, and have 
  command of the crew.
  CAPTAINCY
  Everyone immediately heats their chain with you.
  Ripper job. When you come across a hulk with 
  an intact room that you also have on your ship, 
  you can add that room’s mass to yours. Spend 
  5-credit in scrap and roll+junk. On a 10+, your 
  room gains +1 size. On a 7-9, your room gains +1 
  size, but your room is destroyed in the process. 
  On a miss, your room is completely destroyed 
  and must be repaired for no benefit.
  Regardless of outcome, when you strip a room 
  like this, no more rooms from that hulk can be 
  stripped.
  p
  Gawky body, flabby body, sinewy body, bouncy 
  body, hardened body, frostbitten body, creaking 
  body, worn body, narrow body, or tattooed body
  Grixie, Epsilon, Kai, Red, Knox, Thresh, Blue, Irwin, 
  Clanker, Buzz, Sedgewick, November, Gray, Fudge, 
  Chops, Whirr, or Zero
  A crunchy name, a word-as-name, a colorful name, 
  an industrial name
  HISTORY
  Academia, Authority, colonies, drifting, labor, 
  mercenary, merchant, piracy, underworld, or up-
  per-crust
  You also start with scrap worth 4-credit.
  
  48
  BRAIN
  FACE
  SPINE
  GUT
  JUNK
  JUNKER MOVES
  Strip, melt, grind, smelt. When you take a piece of equipment and break it down for 
  parts, roll+junk. On a 10+, you get its worth in scrap. On a 7-9, you get its worth in 
  scrap, minus 1 (unless it was only worth 1-credit, then it’s still worth only 1-credit). On 
  a miss, something goes awry and it’s just a pile of truly worthless trash.
  Wrecker’s arts. You get +1 junk (max+3).
  Real scrappy. When you get in a fight with a weapon you made yourself, roll+junk 
  instead of +spine. If somebody else gets in a fight with a weapon you made and it 
  does its job, loosen your chain or you both heat your chain (your call).
  Go fish. When you scrape a hulk, you can name something you need: something that 
  you could find on the hulk, something specific and useful and expensive. On a 10+ on 
  the roll, you find the thing instead of whatever you would’ve normally found; on a 7-9, 
  you still find it, but it’s got strings attached, as normal. On a miss, something even 
  worse is going to be on that hulk.
  Scrapyard buddies. When you scrape a hulk, on a 10+, you gain 1 hold for contacts. On 
  a 7-9, you can opt for whatever you normally find or you can gain 1 hold for contacts, 
  but not both. On a miss, you get no extra benefit.
  It always works, until it doesn’t. When something of yours would break, you can 
  instead choose to have someone else’s thing break instead. When someone else’s 
  thing breaks, you can choose to have something of yours break instead.
  Mass production. When you repair something, you can spend 1-credit in scrap to au-
  tomatically count as having rolled a 10+.
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  CONTACTS
  At the start of a job, hold 1. At any time throughout 
  the job, when you need someone with specific skills 
  or connections, you can spend your hold, 1 for 1, and 
  there’ll be somebody who fits the bill right there, or 
  at least nearby: roll+face. On a 10+, they’re friendly 
  and will gladly help for a good price. On a 7-9, they’re 
  around, yeah, but they’ll bring trouble, too. On a miss, 
  they’ll help you, but there’ll be hell to pay afterwards.
  Your contacts might be people like:
  • Snaggler, a thief and grifter
  • Char, a professional “privateer”
  • Tex, a used parts dealer
  • Violet, a shipwrecker
  • Wu, an Authority-tech smuggler
  • Grimm, a mercenary captain
  EXPERIENCE
  pppppp
  when you roll a miss, mark XP
  At the end of a job, mark XP for each of these 
  that you did; if you did them more than once, 
  mark XP twice.
  • you addressed a challenge with wits, cre-
  ativity, or by making something
  • you were influenced by your hometown or 
  history
  • one of your chains went from slack to 
  choking, or choking to slack
  • you made a room’s personality felt
  • you made a decision for the whole crew, 
  with or without their input
  OTHER MOVES
  
  49
  NAME:
  HOMETOWN:
  HISTORY:
  LOOK:
  THE JUNKER
  HARM
  1-harm: shaken, scraped, or bruised
  p
  2-harm: cracked, slashed, or burned
  p
  3-harm: bloodied, scorched, or shattered
  p
  4-harm: unconscious or out of action
  p
  5-harm: dead
  p
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  CHAINS
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  IMPROVEMENT
  after marking 6 XP, reset and improve
  p
  p
  p
  p
  ppp
  ppp
  get +1 junk (max+3)
  get +1 brain (max+2)
  get +1 spine (max+2)
  get +1 gut (max+2)
  get another junker move
  get a move from another playbook
  after improving 8 times, you can choose from this 
  list as well:
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  get +1 to any stat (max+3)
  change to a new playbook
  make a piece of gear unbreakable
  create a second character
  get a second ship chassis
  retire to safety and wealth
  JUNKER’S KIT
  It’s a giant-ass toolbox full—like, literally, just 
  teeming—of random scrap, spare parts, raw 
  junk, mechanical crap, stolen bits, salvaged 
  components, endless nubbins and gubs, and a 
  whole bunch of other useful, old, rusty shit. 
  When you build a common piece of gear from 
  scrap, name the gear and spend up to 1-credit 
  in scrap, then roll+junk. On a 10+, you create the 
  gear. On a 7-9, you make it, but it’s broken right 
  now and needs to be repaired. On a miss, you 
  blow your scrap and get nothing. 
  When you beef up a room, spend up to 3-credit 
  in scrap, then roll+scrap spent. On a 10+, that 
  room counts as having +1 size and ongoing until 
  it next takes harm. On a 7-9, it counts as one 
  size larger, but when it next takes harm, it takes 
  +1 harm. On a miss, you blow your scrap and get 
  nothing.
  When you make a repair kit from scrap, spend 
  up to 3-credit in scrap, then roll+scrap spent. 
  On a 10+, you get that repair kit, nice and shiny. 
  On a 7-9, you get a repair kit, yeah, but some-
  thing of yours breaks, and must be repaired. On 
  a miss, you blow your scrap and get nothing.
  OTHER GEAR
  
  50
  THE RUNNER
  Ever the roguish scoundrel, runners are criminals in every sense of the word. They are thieves, smugglers, 
  killers, bandits, and all-around bastards—and no true runner would have it any other way.
  The runner is fast and nimble, they can carry all kinds of useful tools, they can be handy and quick on the draw 
  in a fight, and is a master of illegality.
  If you want to be a knave and have zero apologies about it, play a runner.
  
  51
  MAKING A RUNNER
  To make a runner, choose a name, stat array, look, hometown, history, moves, and gear.
  NAME
  STATS
  The Daredevil:
  [Brain -2, Face +1, Spine +0, Gut +2, Junk +0]
  The Footpad:
  [Brain -1, Face +0, Spine +1, Gut +1, Junk +1]
  The Viper: 
  [Brain +0, Face +1, Spine +1, Gut +1, Junk -1]
  The Renegade:
  [Brain -1, Face +0, Spine +1, Gut +2, Junk -1]
  LOOK
  Stylish clothing, leather clothing, shabby clothing, 
  scrounged clothing, gaudy clothing, stolen clothing, 
  criminal clothing, or inconspicuous clothing
  Handsome face, narrow face, scarred face, bland 
  face, pockmarked face, chiseled face, gorgeous 
  face, or tattooed face
  Frosty eyes, glazed eyes, wary eyes, shallow eyes, 
  darting eyes, rich eyes, striking eyes, shadowy 
  eyes, or laughing eyes
  HOMETOWN
  Mercury, Venus, the Core, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Ura-
  nus, Neptune, or Pluto
  Luna, Deimos, Phobos, Io, Ganymede, Europa, Cal-
  listo, Enceladus, Titan, Miranda, Titania, Umbriel, 
  Oberon, Ariel, Triton, or Charon 
  The Belt, a station, or a ship
  MOVES
  You get all the basic moves. You get conacts, then 
  choose 3 runner moves.
  When you get the chance, look up act fast, get a 
  read, and fast-talk.
  GEAR
  You start with clothing suited to your look worth 
  1-armor, and a backup weapon of your choosing.
  Backup weapons:
  • many many knives, 2-harm hand infinite
  • magnum, 3-harm close loud
  • smg, 2-harm close autofire
  • cleaver or machete, 3-harm hand
  DEDICATED ROOM
  The ship gets a small (size+1) set of bolt-holes.
  If you are chosen to be the ship’s Captain, you im-
  mediately take +1 to any stat of your choice, to a 
  maximum of +3. You immediately get all the Captain 
  moves, plus underworld connections. You decide 
  which jobs the ship takes, how the pay gets divided, 
  and have command of the crew.
  CAPTAINCY
  Everyone immediately heats their chain with you.
  Underworld connections. If you take an illegal 
  job (whether it starts that way or you just reach 
  the point of no return), you immediately gain an 
  extra 2 hold for contacts, and get +1 forward on 
  all rolls you make for the move.
  p
  Hollow body, forgettable body, bony body, gorgeous 
  body, flabby body, stringy body, designer body, or 
  tattooed body
  Brisk, Iota, Lance, Flint, Moon, Romeo, Smolder, 
  Jackknife, Morgan, Steele, Ryker, Jez, Loafers, 
  Thorn, Key, Pierce, or Juliet
  A sexy name, an alias, a sharp name, a badass name
  HISTORY
  Academia, Authority, colonies, drifting, labor, 
  mercenary, merchant, piracy, underworld, or up-
  per-crust
  Dancing fingers, knuckled fingers, twitchy fingers, 
  elegant fingers, missing fingers, manicured fingers, 
  or tattooed fingers
  You also start with stolen goods worth 3-credit, and 
  1-credit in sticks.
  
  52
  BRAIN
  FACE
  SPINE
  GUT
  JUNK
  RUNNER MOVES
  CONTACTS
  At the start of a job, hold 1. At any time throughout 
  the job, when you need someone with specific skills 
  or connections, you can spend your hold, 1 for 1, and 
  there’ll be somebody who fits the bill right there, or 
  at least nearby: roll+face. On a 10+, they’re friendly 
  and will gladly help for a good price. On a 7-9, they’re 
  around, yeah, but they’ll bring trouble, too. On a miss, 
  they’ll help you, but there’ll be hell to pay afterwards.
  Your contacts might be people like:
  • Jephthah, an assassin
  • Cato, an anarchist station master
  • North, an Authority-grade arms dealer
  • Soulsby, a spy for hire
  • Wexler, a crime boss
  • Arcy, your ex
  EXPERIENCE
  pppppp
  when you roll a miss, mark XP
  At the end of a job, mark XP for each of these 
  that you did; if you did them more than once, 
  mark XP twice.
  • you addressed a challenge with wits, de-
  ception, or violence
  • you were influenced by your hometown or 
  history
  • one of your chains went from slack to 
  choking, or choking to slack
  • you made a room’s personality felt
  • you made a decision for the whole crew, 
  with or without their input
  OTHER MOVES
  Cold-blooded. You get +1 gut (max+3).
  Cut and run. Name your escape route and roll+gut. On a 10+, you’re gone. On a 7-9, 
  you’re gone, but something you want or need breaks, and must be repaired. On a 
  miss, you’re caught, half-in and half-out.
  Bob and weave, duck and cover. When you hold firm, roll+gut instead of +spine.
  Ask questions later. When you’re in a conversation overhung by the threat of vio-
  lence, roll+gut. On a 10+, hold 2. On a 7-9, hold 1. If the moment arises and you need to 
  waste somebody, you can spend your hold, 1 for 1, to immediately inflict harm. On a 
  miss, your opponent holds 1 against you.
  Born in the gutter. When you deal with the Authority in an illegitimate capacity, take 
  +1 ongoing. 
  Tucked away for later. When somebody needs something badly, the kind of thing you 
  could fit in a crate or fist or pocket, roll+gut. On a 10+, you’ve got it, right here and right 
  now, good to go. On a 7-9, you’ve got it, but it’s only good for now and will break soon. 
  On a miss, you get something bad instead of what you wanted.
  Notch in the armor. When you get in a fight or act fast against another crewmember, 
  you can roll+heat instead of +spine or +gut.
  Turning tables, turning cloaks. When a crewmember comes to you and asks for your 
  help in doing something illegal, roll with +1 ongoing until it’s done. Afterwards, either 
  loosen your chain with them, or you each cool your chain (your call).
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  Black-hearted. When you call for help or go to help another crewmember, the other 
  crewmember always suffers the consequences, regardless of your chain.
  p
  
  53
  NAME:
  HOMETOWN:
  HISTORY:
  LOOK:
  THE RUNNER
  NOTES & GEAR
  HARM
  1-harm: shaken, scraped, or bruised
  p
  2-harm: cracked, slashed, or burned
  p
  3-harm: bloodied, scorched, or shattered
  p
  4-harm: unconscious or out of action
  p
  5-harm: dead
  p
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  CHAINS
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  IMPROVEMENT
  after marking 6 XP, reset and improve
  p
  p
  p
  p
  ppp
  ppp
  get +1 gut (max+3)
  get +1 face (max+2)
  get +1 spine (max+2)
  get +1 junk (max+2)
  get another runner move
  get a move from another playbook
  after improving 8 times, you can choose from this 
  list as well:
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  get +1 to any stat (max+3)
  change to a new playbook
  make a piece of gear unbreakable
  create a second character
  get a second ship chassis
  retire to safety and wealth
  
  54
  THE SAWBONES
  Savvy and practical, the sawbones is a healer, a medic, a doctor. They keep the ship’s infirmary, and it’s their 
  job to ensure that the crew stays alive.
  The sawbones can gain special insight into crewmembers, save lives without tools, get up to interesting 
  mischief when treating people, and make powerful ties through their life-saving skill.
  If you’re interested in healing people and all the trouble contained therein, play a sawbones.
  
  55
  MAKING A SAWBONES
  To make a sawbones, choose a name, stat array, look, hometown, history, moves, and gear.
  NAME
  Briggs, Doc, Chaplain, Snapleg, Bones, Ripley, White, 
  Gamma, Stockard, X-Ray, Skinner, Snips, or Fletch
  a hardy name, a nickname, a sharp name, a title-
  as-name
  STATS
  The Street Doc:
  [Brain +1, Face +0, Spine -1, Gut +1, Junk +1]
  The Physician:
  [Brain +2, Face +1, Spine -1, Gut +0, Junk -1]
  The Field Medic: 
  [Brain +2, Face -2, Spine +0, Gut +1, Junk +0]
  The Ship’s Surgeon:
  [Brain +1, Face +0, Spine +1, Gut -1, Junk +1]
  LOOK
  Scrounged medical wear, Authority medic wear, 
  combat medic gear, clinical scrubs, ancient medical 
  wear, or scrounged gear
  Stern face, loose face, strained face, tranquil face, 
  panicky face, grizzled face, curious face, or attrac-
  tive face
  Piercing eyes, scanning eyes, alert eyes, keen eyes, 
  drained eyes, kind eyes, fatigued eyes, or kind eyes
  Trim body, rangy body, marred body, fleshy body, 
  lanky body, stocky body, pudgy body, or loose body
  HOMETOWN
  Mercury, Venus, the Core, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Ura-
  nus, Neptune, or Pluto
  Luna, Deimos, Phobos, Io, Ganymede, Europa, Cal-
  listo, Enceladus, Titan, Miranda, Titania, Umbriel, 
  Oberon, Ariel, Triton, or Charon 
  The Belt, a station, or a ship
  MOVES
  You get all the basic moves. You get bound in blood, 
  contacts, and then choose 2 sawbones moves. 
  When you get the chance, look up act fast, analyze 
  something, and hold firm.
  GEAR
  You get medical wear suited to your look, a medpack, 
  a scalpel (2-harm intimate), and one trusty weapon.
  Trusty weapons:
  • handgun, 2-harm close loud
  • bonesaw, 3-harm hand messy
  • silenced pistol, 2-harm close
  • stunner, s-harm close no-air
  • syringe, s-harm intimate
  You also get goods and sticks worth 4-credit to-
  gether (your call on how it’s split, but it should be 
  mostly goods).
  DEDICATED ROOM
  The ship gets a small infirmary (1-size). You decide 
  who belongs in it, and when.
  HISTORY
  Academia, Authority, colonies, drifting, labor, 
  mercenary, merchant, piracy, underworld, or up-
  per-crust
  If you are chosen to be the ship’s Captain, you im-
  mediately take +1 to any stat of your choice, to a 
  maximum of +3. You immediately get all the Captain 
  moves, plus guardian angel. You decide which jobs 
  the ship takes, how the pay gets divided, and have 
  command of the crew.
  CAPTAINCY
  Everyone immediately heats their chain with you.
  Guardian angel. At the start of a job, roll+brain: 
  on a 7-9, hold 2; on a 10+, hold 2 and take +1 
  ongoing when you treat someone at 3-harm or 
  more. On a miss, hold 1 anyway. During the job, 
  when someone takes 5-harm and would die but 
  instead chooses to live, you can spend your 
  hold, 1 for 1, to revive them to 4-harm instead, 
  with no further consequences.
  p
  
  56
  BRAIN
  FACE
  SPINE
  GUT
  JUNK
  SAWBONES MOVES
  Bound in blood. Whenever you heal a crewmember for any amount of harm, they heat 
  their chain with you. If they were unconscious or worse, they also loosen their chain 
  with you.
  Non-combatant. When you’re in middle of a scrap and are busy healing people in-
  stead of fighting, you get +1 armor. 
  “Natural” remedies. When you scrape a hulk successfully, the stuff you find can be 
  2-stock of medical supplies for the infirmary instead of whatever else it was going 
  to be.
  Red to red, white to white. When someone is hurt and you try to patch them up as 
  best you can without any gear, roll+brain. On a 10+, they immediately heal 1 harm and 
  take +1 forward. On a 7-9, they heal 1 harm, but something of yours or theirs (your call) 
  breaks, and must be repaired. On a miss, they immediately suffer 1 harm and take -1 
  forward.
  Practical surgery. When you get in a fight with a hand- or intimate-ranged weapon, 
  roll+brain instead of +spine. 
  Life debt. When you save an NPC on the verge of death, you get +1 hold for contacts.
  Unflinching eye. When someone is under your care, you can analyze something with 
  your patient as the thing in question.
  Insurance policy. At the beginning of a job, roll+spine. On a 10+, hold 3; on a 7-9, 
  hold 2; on a miss, hold 1 anyway. When someone is under your care, spend 1 hold to 
  plant an insurance policy on them. At any time, you can activate the insurance policy 
  to instantly deal 3-harm (ap). At your option, your patient knows it’s there before it 
  goes off.
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  CONTACTS
  At the start of a job, hold 1. At any time throughout 
  the job, when you need someone with specific skills 
  or connections, you can spend your hold, 1 for 1, and 
  there’ll be somebody who fits the bill right there, or 
  at least nearby: roll+brain. On a 10+, they’re friendly 
  and will gladly help for a good price. On a 7-9, they’re 
  around, yeah, but they’ll bring trouble, too. On a miss, 
  they’ll help you, but there’ll be hell to pay afterwards.
  Your contacts might be people like:
  • Shark, a pirate captain
  • Cleo, a black market drug runner
  • Gripper, a used-arms dealer
  • Jepson, an Authority quartermaster
  • Tyrus, a librarian and researcher
  • Stax, a smuggler of VIPs
  EXPERIENCE
  pppppp
  when you roll a miss, mark XP
  At the end of a job, mark XP for each of these 
  that you did; if you did them more than once, 
  mark XP twice.
  • you addressed a challenge with patience, 
  care, or knowledge
  • you were influenced by your hometown or 
  history
  • one of your chains went from slack to 
  choking, or choking to slack
  • you made a room’s personality felt
  • you made a decision for the whole crew, 
  with or without their input
  OTHER MOVES
  
  57
  NAME:
  HOMETOWN:
  HISTORY:
  LOOK:
  THE SAWBONES
  NOTES & GEAR
  HARM
  1-harm: shaken, scraped, or bruised
  p
  2-harm: cracked, slashed, or burned
  p
  3-harm: bloodied, scorched, or shattered
  p
  4-harm: unconscious or out of action
  p
  5-harm: dead
  p
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  CHAINS
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  IMPROVEMENT
  after marking 6 XP, reset and improve
  p
  p
  p
  p
  ppp
  ppp
  get +1 brain (max+3)
  get +1 brain (max+3)
  get +1 gut (max+2)
  get +1 spine (max+2)
  get another sawbones move
  get a move from another playbook
  after improving 8 times, you can choose from this 
  list as well:
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  get +1 to any stat (max+3)
  change to a new playbook
  make a piece of gear unbreakable
  create a second character
  get a second ship chassis
  retire to safety and wealth
  
  58
  THE SMOKER
  The big guns never tire, and so neither must their handler. The smoker is just like their weapons: tough, fierce, 
  and relentless.
  The smoker can wield the heaviest of guns, hold strong alongside their crew, and significantly alter their fellow 
  crewmembers’ weapons.
  If you want to use the biggest guns and know every inch of them, play a smoker. 
  
  59
  MAKING A SMOKER
  To make a smoker, choose a name, stat array, look, hometown, history, moves, and gear.
  NAME
  STATS
  The Big Boomer:
  [Brain -1, Face -1, Spine +2, Gut +0, Junk +1]
  The Artillerist:
  [Brain +0, Face -1, Spine +1, Gut +1, Junk +1]
  The Tinkerer: 
  [Brain +1, Face -2, Spine +1, Gut -1, Junk +2]
  The Lieutenant:
  [Brain +0, Face +1, Spine +1, Gut -1, Junk +1]
  LOOK
  Scrappy gear, mechanic’s gear, Authority gear, 
  home-made gear, looted gear, or ancient gear
  Grim face, stormy face, marred face, unkempt 
  face, strong face, lined face, scabbed-over face, or 
  rough-hewn face
  Wild eyes, fearsome eyes, mad eyes, chilled eyes, 
  hateful eyes, cocky eyes, stern eyes, twinkling 
  eyes, or watery eyes
  HOMETOWN
  Mercury, Venus, the Core, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Ura-
  nus, Neptune, or Pluto
  Luna, Deimos, Phobos, Io, Ganymede, Europa, Cal-
  listo, Enceladus, Titan, Miranda, Titania, Umbriel, 
  Oberon, Ariel, Triton, or Charon 
  The Belt, a station, or a ship
  MOVES
  You get all the basic moves. You get contacts, then 
  choose 2 smoker moves.
  When you get the chance, look up get in a fight, re-
  pair something, and make a patch.
  GEAR
  You get gear worth 1-armor suited to your look, a 
  boarding weapon, and your gunner’s kit.
  Boarding weapon:
  • handgun, 2-harm close
  • sawn-off, 3-harm close messy reload
  • boarding axe, 3-harm hand messy
  • smg, 2-harm close autofire loud
  DEDICATED ROOM
  The ship gets a small (size+1) set of guns, fully 
  armed.
  If you are chosen to be the ship’s Captain, you im-
  mediately take +1 to any stat of your choice, to a 
  maximum of +3. You immediately get all the Captain 
  moves, plus spotter’s call. You decide which jobs 
  the ship takes, how the pay gets divided, and have 
  command of the crew.
  CAPTAINCY
  Everyone immediately heats their chain with you.
  Spotter’s call. When anyone other than you 
  mans the ship’s guns and you spot them, 
  roll+spine. On a 10+, everyone manning a gun 
  other than you deals +1 harm and takes +1 on-
  going until the fighting’s done. On a 7-9, they all 
  take one or the other, not both. On a miss, they 
  all take -1 ongoing.
  p
  Old body, disfigured body, muscular body, sweaty 
  body, lanky body, pudgy body, scarred body, or vo-
  luminous body
  Brixton, Kilgore, Colton, Sarge, Major, Whiskey, 
  Lang, Quarren, Combs, Roscoe, Flax, Colonel, Sigma, 
  Winslow, or Caine
  A military name, a title-as-name, a rough name, an 
  honorable name 
  HISTORY
  Academia, Authority, colonies, drifting, labor, 
  mercenary, merchant, piracy, underworld, or up-
  per-crust
  You also get sticks worth 1-credit, and scrap worth 
  2-credit.
  
  60
  BRAIN
  FACE
  SPINE
  GUT
  JUNK
  SMOKER MOVES
  Rip & tear. You inflict +1 harm to people and ships alike.
  Artificer. When you use your gunner’s kit to improve a gun, when you would normally 
  add or remove one tag of your choice, add or remove two instead.
  Remote autotargetting. You can fire any of the ship’s guns from anywhere on or 
  around the ship.
  Overcharge. When you spend time tinkering and getting to know a gun—any gun, 
  ship’s or otherwise—roll+junk. On a 10+, hold 2. On a 7-9, hold 1. Anyone using that 
  gun can spend your hold, 1 for 1, to deal +2 harm. On a miss, hold 1 anyway, but the 
  gun immediately breaks, and must be repaired. While a gun’s overcharged, you can’t 
  overcharge it again.
  Tune up. When you repair or improve a weapon that belongs to somebody else, loosen 
  your chain, or both of you heat your chain (your call).
  Knuckle down. When someone near you needs to hold firm or act fast and you bellow 
  at them to win and not fail, they count as having rolled a 10+, but tighten your chain 
  afterwards.
  Full-body harness. You can detach a ship’s gun (heavy or light, either) from the ship, 
  and then carry it around and use it just like a regular gun. 
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  CONTACTS
  At the start of a job, hold 1. At any time throughout 
  the job, when you need someone with specific skills 
  or connections, you can spend your hold, 1 for 1, and 
  there’ll be somebody who fits the bill right there, or 
  at least nearby: roll+brain. On a 10+, they’re friendly 
  and will gladly help for a good price. On a 7-9, they’re 
  around, yeah, but they’ll bring trouble, too. On a miss, 
  they’ll help you, but there’ll be hell to pay afterwards.
  Your contacts might be people like:
  • Skye, a ship’s engineer-for-hire
  • Fisk, a long-haul merchant
  • Crank, a scrapyard trader
  • Skov, a black market arms dealer
  • Jax, an Authority weapons designer
  • Leto, a bounty hunter
  EXPERIENCE
  pppppp
  when you roll a miss, mark XP
  At the end of a job, mark XP for each of these 
  that you did; if you did them more than once, 
  mark XP twice.
  • you addressed a challenge with violence, 
  threats, or strategy
  • you were influenced by your hometown or 
  history
  • one of your chains went from slack to 
  choking, or choking to slack
  • you made a room’s personality felt
  • you made a decision for the whole crew, 
  with or without their input
  OTHER MOVES
  Failsafe triggers. When someone’s using a gun that you worked on at any point and 
  you don’t want them to be using it, that gun immediately breaks; alternatively, you 
  can cause any gun you’ve worked on to instantly fire at any time, but then that gun 
  breaks and must be repaired.
  p
  No bullshit. When you threaten or hold firm against another crew member, you can 
  roll+heat instead of +face or +spine.
  p
  
  61
  NAME:
  HOMETOWN:
  HISTORY:
  LOOK:
  THE SMOKER
  SMOKER’S KIT
  HARM
  1-harm: shaken, scraped, or bruised
  p
  2-harm: cracked, slashed, or burned
  p
  3-harm: bloodied, scorched, or shattered
  p
  4-harm: unconscious or out of action
  p
  5-harm: dead
  p
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  CHAINS
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  IMPROVEMENT
  after marking 6 XP, reset and improve
  pp
  pp
  ppp
  ppp
  get +1 spine (max+3)
  get +1 junk (max+3)
  get another smoker move
  get a move from another playbook
  after improving 8 times, you can choose from this 
  list as well:
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  get +1 to any stat (max+3)
  change to a new playbook
  make a piece of gear unbreakable
  create a second character
  get a second ship chassis
  retire to safety and wealth
  You’ve got a kit, like a big backpack’s worth, 
  with all kinds of useful old bits and bobs for 
  guns: sights, scopes, stocks, locks, barrels, 
  coils, batteries, bullets, casings, gunpowder, 
  wiring, lasers, plating, and fuel, plus a few 
  handy tools and a bunch of other crap. You can 
  use this to alter a gun (any gun, ship’s- or per-
  son’s-), to add useful stuff or fix its flaws.
  When you improve a gun by removing or adding 
  tags, spend 1-credit in scrap, then roll+junk. On 
  a 10+, add or remove one tag of your choice. On 
  a 7-9, if you remove a tag, the MC gets to re-
  move one tag as well; if you want to add a tag, 
  the MC gets to add one, too. On a miss, the MC 
  gets to take away or add a tag of their choice.
  t
  OTHER GEAR
  some good tags:
  • 
  +1 harm
  • 
  ap
  • 
  close/far
  • 
  far/extreme
  • 
  autofire
  • 
  no-air
  some bad tags:
  • 
  -1 harm
  • 
  loud
  • 
  messy
  • 
  reload
  • 
  refill
  • 
  slow
  
  62
  THE TECH
  Always the smartest one on the ship, the tech is the master of every part of the ship nobody else has any idea 
  how to run: namely, all of its systems.
  The tech can hack into other ships, run scans for information, work through complicated logic, and knows 
  more than anybody else on the ship, Captain included.
  If you want vast sums of knowledge and the skills to use it, play a tech.
  
  63
  MAKING A TECH
  To make a tech, choose a name, stat array, look, hometown, history, moves, and gear.
  NAME
  STATS
  The Analyst:
  [Brain +2, Face -1, Spine -1, Gut +1, Junk +0]
  The Guru:
  [Brain +1, Face +1, Spine +0, Gut +1, Junk -1]
  The Ship’s Bosun: 
  [Brain +1, Face -1, Spine +1, Gut +0, Junk +1]
  The PhD:
  [Brain +2, Face +0, Spine -2, Gut +0, Junk +1]
  LOOK
  Laboratory coat, hazmat suit, home-made gear, 
  scavenged coat, Authority gear, or ancient suit
  Lined face, shiny face, sharp face, worried face, 
  round face, puffy face, red face, narrow face, or 
  sallow face
  Wide eyes, glassy eyes, off-color eyes, puffy eyes, 
  searching eyes, rheumy eyes, winking eyes, or 
  beaming eyes
  HOMETOWN
  Mercury, Venus, the Core, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Ura-
  nus, Neptune, or Pluto
  Luna, Deimos, Phobos, Io, Ganymede, Europa, Cal-
  listo, Enceladus, Titan, Miranda, Titania, Umbriel, 
  Oberon, Ariel, Triton, or Charon 
  The Belt, a station, or a ship
  MOVES
  You get all the basic moves. You get contacts, then 
  choose 3 tech moves.
  When you get the chance, look up analyze some-
  thing and get a read.
  GEAR
  You get wear suited to your look, an improvised 
  weapon, and sticks worth 3-credit.
  Improvised weapon:
  • manual analysis probe, s-harm hand messy
  • battery-surge clips, 3-harm intimate reload
  • contiguous cryogenic applicator, 2-harm close 
  refill
  • proximal incendiary formative, 3-harm close 
  area slow refill hot
  • electromagnetic displacer, e-harm intimate
  DEDICATED ROOM
  The ship gets +2 hull.
  Then, the systems get +1 size (max+3).
  If you are chosen to be the ship’s Captain, you im-
  mediately take +1 to any stat of your choice, to a 
  maximum of +3. You immediately get all the Captain 
  moves, plus hard return. You decide which jobs 
  the ship takes, how the pay gets divided, and have 
  command of the crew.
  CAPTAINCY
  Everyone immediately heats their chain with you.
  Hard return. At the beginning of a job, hold 
  1 for each of your crew, including yourself. At 
  any point, you can spend your hold, 1 for 1, to 
  instantly return a crew member to the ship, 
  regardless of where they are. If the crew mem-
  ber is unwilling, tighten your chain after they 
  return. If you tag someone, you can use this 
  move on them, too.
  p
  Chubby body, gaunt body, babyish body, crooked 
  body, flat body, mediocre body, burned body, wiry 
  body, or voluminous body
  Tinfoil, Ops, Billings, Theta, Locksley, White-Coat, 
  Epsilon, Whateley, Keynote, Sierra, Specs, Omicron, 
  Taggart, or Clips
  A geeky name, a professional name, a slightly cruel 
  nickname, a purpose-based name
  HISTORY
  Academia, Authority, colonies, drifting, labor, 
  mercenary, merchant, piracy, underworld, or up-
  per-crust
  Wild hair, long hair, close-cropped hair, tied-back 
  hair, balding hair, frizzy hair, dyed hair, curling hair, 
  or none
  
  64
  BRAIN
  FACE
  SPINE
  GUT
  JUNK
  TECH MOVES
  Too many books. You get +1 brain (max+3).
  Sharp eyes, sharper wit. When you analyze something or get a read, you always get 
  one additional hold.
  Forced seclusion protocols. When you’re in the systems room, you can lock down a 
  room on another ship within far range exactly as if it was your own.
  Logical outcomes. When you threaten someone, roll+brain instead of +face. If you’re 
  with the Captain when they get a job, they take +1 forward; if you’re the captain, you 
  take +1 forward.
  Full ship scan. When you use the systems to scan another ship, roll+brain, and then 
  ask questions from the list below, to which the MC will answer honestly. On a 10+, ask 
  3; on a 7-9, ask 1:
  • how many people are on board?
  • how much weaponry does the ship and crew have?
  • who does this ship work for?
  • what rooms does this ship have?
  Integral defenses. When someone is in the systems room and you don’t want them to 
  be, take +1 ongoing to any rolls against them.
  Discrete compu-functions. You can make systems moves from anywhere on the ship, 
  along with any moves that require you to be at the systems.
  Old world knowledge. When a crewmember comes to you for advice, tell them what 
  you honestly think the best course of action is. If they do it, they take +1 ongoing, and 
  you loosen your chain. If the plan works, you both heat your chain; if it doesn’t, you 
  both cool your chain.
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  CONTACTS
  At the start of a job, hold 1. At any time throughout 
  the job, when you need someone with specific skills 
  or connections, you can spend your hold, 1 for 1, and 
  there’ll be somebody who fits the bill right there, or 
  at least nearby: roll+brain. On a 10+, they’re friendly 
  and will gladly help for a good price. On a 7-9, they’re 
  around, yeah, but they’ll bring trouble, too. On a miss, 
  they’ll help you, but there’ll be hell to pay afterwards.
  Your contacts might be people like:
  • Zipp, a curio dealer
  • Weylon, a station master
  • Quigley, a computer hacker
  • Byron, an Authority technician
  • Tau, a travelling chemist
  • Klaxon, a ship scavenger
  EXPERIENCE
  pppppp
  when you roll a miss, mark XP
  At the end of a job, mark XP for each of these 
  that you did; if you did them more than once, 
  mark XP twice.
  • you addressed a challenge with reason, 
  knowledge, or planning
  • you were influenced by your hometown or 
  history
  • one of your chains went from slack to 
  choking, or choking to slack
  • you made a room’s personality felt
  • you made a decision for the whole crew, 
  with or without their input
  OTHER MOVES
  Trace connections. When you get a read on another crewmember or analyze some-
  thing belonging to another crewmember, you can roll+heat instead of +gut or +brain.
  p
  
  65
  NAME:
  HOMETOWN:
  HISTORY:
  LOOK:
  THE TECH
  NOTES & GEAR
  HARM
  1-harm: shaken, scraped, or bruised
  p
  2-harm: cracked, slashed, or burned
  p
  3-harm: bloodied, scorched, or shattered
  p
  4-harm: unconscious or out of action
  p
  5-harm: dead
  p
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  CHAINS
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  +0
  +1
  +2
  +3
  NAME
  SLACK - TAUT - CHOKING
  IMPROVEMENT
  after marking 6 XP, reset and improve
  p
  p
  p
  p
  ppp
  ppp
  get +1 brain (max+3)
  get +1 gut (max+2)
  get +1 junk (max+2)
  get +1 face (max+2)
  get another tech move
  get a move from another playbook
  after improving 8 times, you can choose from this 
  list as well:
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  p
  get +1 to any stat (max+3)
  change to a new playbook
  make a piece of gear unbreakable
  create a second character
  get a second ship chassis
  retire to safety and wealth
  
  66
  NAME:
  To make a ship, choose the rooms your ship has, and then choose the ship’s looks.
  ROOMS
  By default, the ship has a tiny (size+0) engine, a tiny 
  (size+0) helm, a tiny (size+0) set of systems, and 
  0-armor hull. It’s got enough scattered nooks for the 
  crew to sleep and enough varied hideaways for fuel 
  and supplies, but not much else.
  To start, choose 4:
  pp
  pp
  pp
  ppp
  p
  ppp
  p
  ppp
  p
  ppp
  the engine gets +1 size (max+2)
  the helm gets +1 size (max+2)
  the systems get +1 size (max+2)
  the hull gets +2 armor (max+6)
  the ship gets a tiny (size+0) cargo hold
  the cargo hold gets +1 size (max+3)
  the ship gets a tiny (size+0) set of bunks
  the bunks get +1 size (max+3)
  the ship gets a tiny (size+0) armory
  the armory gets +1 size (max+3)
  Then, choose 2:
  p
  p
  ppp
  p
  ppp
  p
  ppp
  p
  ppp
  the ship gets a tiny (size+0) set of guns
  the ship gets a tiny (size+0) infirmary
  the infirmary gets +1 size (max+3)
  the ship gets a tiny (size+0) shuttle
  the shuttle gets +1 size (max+3)
  the ship gets a tiny (size+0) boarding dock
  the boarding dock gets +1 size (max+3)
  the ship gets tiny (size+0) bolt-holes
  the bolt-holes get +1 size (max+3)
  Finally, choose 1:
  ppp
  p
  p
  p
  p
  the guns get +1 size (max+3)
  the hull gets +3 armor (max+9)
  the engine gets +1 size (max+3)
  the helm gets +1 size (max+3)
  the systems get +1 size (max+3)
  LOOK
  Choose 1-3 options for each.
  Geometric, blocky, patchwork, (ex-)Authority, paint-
  ed, scarred, scrapyard, ancient, greebled, industri-
  al, layered, spiked, or corded
  Grimy portholes, jutting pipes, weld lines, constant 
  creaking, rattling walls, vermin infestation, stained 
  floors, steaming vents, incessant warnings, leaky 
  valves, lumpy bunks, no hot water, or foul odor
  Cozy bunks, padded furniture, quiet nooks, ship’s 
  cat, handmade decorations, ancient graffiti, real 
  food, custom crew jackets, vintage music, movie 
  nights, board games, or old library books
  HULL
  Roaring, fiery, humming, smoky, spinning, grinding, 
  crackling, rumbling, hissing, pungent, or glowing
  ENGINE
  Scrappy, cramped, greasy, disjointed, riveted, 
  damp, kitschy, mass-produced, chilly, or humid
  INTERIORS
  Soft, flickering, hot, sparking, bare, colored, string, 
  blinking, buzzing, tinny, gaseous, floor, or neon
  LIGHTING
  QUIRKS
  PERKS
  DRAWING
  First, every crewmember draws their dedicated 
  room, wherever and however they want.
  Change the drawing of the ship when:
  • A new room is added to the ship
  • A room increases in size
  • A room is destroyed
  • A room is repaired after being destroyed
  • The ship’s appearance changes significantly
  IMPROVEMENT
  When you are in a hub or station of sufficient size, 
  the crew can choose to purchase upgrades for your 
  ship, chosen from the categories above.
  • 1st category: 5 credits per option marked
  • 2nd category: 10 credits per option marked
  • 3rd category: 15 credits per option marked
  Fuzzy dice, nuts & bolts, faded photos, a hula girl, 
  empty bottles, air freshener, bumper stickers, a 
  travel brochure, paper starmaps, dead batteries, an 
  old ashtray, unfinished snacks, or audio tapes
  KNICK-KNACKS
  
  67
  DRAW YOUR SHIP
  Note: this is not optional.
  
  68
  ENGINE
  Harm
  Size
  p
  +0
  p
  +1
  p
  +2
  p
  +3
  PERSONALITY:
  When you outrun or overtake something, roll+size. On a 10+, you outrun them or overtake them just fine. On a 
  7-9, you still do so, but choose one of the following:
  • split 3-harm (ap) between you and the engine, however you choose
  • you must hold firm or miss the roll entirely
  On a miss, you don’t outrun or overtake them; prepare for the worst.
  SYSTEMS
  CARGO HOLD
  When you lock down a room on the ship, roll+size. On a 7-9, choose 1 of the following to explicitly disallow the 
  flow of into the room; on a 10+, choose 2:
  BUNKS
  Harm
  Size
  p
  +0
  p
  +1
  p
  +2
  p
  +3
  PERSONALITY:
  HELM
  When you pull a stunt to get the ship to fly better than it has any right to, roll+size. On a 10+, you do it, just fine. 
  On a 7-9, you still do it, but choose one of the following:
  • split 3-harm (ap) between you and the helm, however you want
  • you must hold firm, or else miss the roll entirely
  On a miss, you fail your stunt: prepare for the worst.
  Harm
  Size
  p
  +0
  p
  +1
  p
  +2
  p
  +3
  PERSONALITY:
  Harm
  Size
  p
  +0
  p
  +1
  p
  +2
  p
  +3
  PERSONALITY:
  When you get a job aiming to haul cargo, legal or otherwise, you can roll+size instead of +face. The larger the 
  cargo hold, the more profitable the haul.
  • people and objects
  • small arms fire
  • air
  On a miss, the MC chooses two against you in a room of their choosing.
  Harm
  Size
  p
  +0
  p
  +1
  p
  +2
  p
  +3
  PERSONALITY:
  When you get a job looking to ferry passengers, legal or otherwise, you can roll+size instead of+face. The 
  larger the bunks, the more profitable the ferry.
  SHUTTLE
  Harm
  Size
  p
  +0
  p
  +1
  p
  +2
  p
  +3
  PERSONALITY:
  Shuttles can’t fly spans, but they can outrun or overtake something and pull a stunt just like big ships, using 
  the shuttle’s size. Shuttles have hull equal to their size, and come with basic air and gravity.
  INFIRMARY
  Harm
  Size
  p
  +0
  p
  +1
  p
  +2
  p
  +3
  PERSONALITY:
  When you heal someone, roll+size. On a 10+, they heal 2-harm; on a 7-9, they heal 1-harm. On a miss, they heal 
  nothing, and either you or they take 2-harm (ap).
  
  69
  ARMORY
  At size+0, the armory has one set of 1-armor and three sidearms. For each additional +1 size, the armory gets 
  three sidearms, two serious guns, a big fuck-off gun, two sets of 1-armor, and a single set of 2-armor. 
  When you get a job intending to fly escort or run a hit, you can roll+size instead of +face.
  Harm
  Size
  p
  +0
  p
  +1
  p
  +2
  p
  +3
  PERSONALITY:
  sidearms:
  • pistol, 2-harm close
  • magnum, 3-harm close loud
  • sawn-off, 3-harm close messy reload
  • lots of knives, 2-harm hand infinite
  • crowbar, 2-harm hand messy
  • stunner, s-harm close reload no-air
  serious guns:
  • combat rifle, 3-harm close/far aut-
  ofire
  • shotgun, 3-harm close messy
  • boarding axe, 3-harm close messy
  • crossbow, 2-harm close no-air
  big fuck-off guns:
  • sniper’s rifle, 4-harm far loud
  • grenade launcher, 4-harm far area 
  messy no-air
  • flamethrower, 4-harm close area 
  messy no-air refill
  • lmg, 5-harm close/far autofire loud
  GUNS
  At size+0, the turret has one light gun on it. For each additional +1 size, the turret has one additional light gun 
  and one additional heavy gun on it.
  When you man a ship’s gun, you can get in a fight using that gun.
  When you get a job wanting to fly escort or run a hit, you can roll+size instead of +face.
  Harm
  Size
  p
  +0
  p
  +1
  p
  +2
  p
  +3
  PERSONALITY:
  light guns:
  • lmg, 5-harm close/far autofire
  • grenade launcher, 4-harm far area reload
  • rpg, 6-harm extreme reload
  • missile launcher, 7-harm extreme reload 
  heavy guns:
  • .70 caliber mg, 6-harm close/far hellfire
  • torpedo launcher, 9-harm far/extreme reload
  • plasma cannon, 7-harm far/extreme hellfire messy hot
  • coilgun, 7-harm far/extreme
  • emp, e-harm far/extreme
  BOLT-HOLES
  Harm
  Size
  p
  +0
  p
  +1
  p
  +2
  p
  +3
  PERSONALITY:
  When you hide something (or someone) for later, roll+size. On a 10+, you hide it, it’s good, nobody will find it 
  unless you want them to. On a 7-9, you hide it, but one person of your choosing and one of the MC’s choosing 
  knows it’s hidden there. On a miss, everyone knows it’s there, and someone wants it.
  When you get a job attempting to run a fetch, you can roll+size instead of +face.
  Harm
  Size
  p
  +0
  p
  +1
  p
  +2
  p
  +3
  PERSONALITY:
  BOARDING DOCK
  At size+0, the ship’s hulls must be touching to board; at size+1, you can board at close range; at size+2, you 
  can board at far range. At size+3, you can board at extreme range.
  When you board a ship, pick a room and roll+size. On a 10+, your dock makes it to that room and makes an 
  entrance, no worries. On a 7-9, either it doesn’t go to the room you want, or you stall and the other ship’s crew 
  can prepare for you. On a miss, prepare for the worst.
  HULL
  Hull works just like regular armor: it reduces any incoming harm by an amount equal to the hull. 
  This only works on attacks made from outside the ship.
  Hull is always the same across the entire ship.
  FUEL:
  SUPPLIES:
  pppppppppp
  pppppppppp
  HULL
  
  70
  
  MOVES
  BASIC
  
  72
  ANALYZE
  When you analyze something for information, roll+brain. On a 10+, 
  hold 3; on a 7-9, hold 2. Now or later, spend your hold to ask ques-
  tions and get answers; when you act on an answer, take +1 forward. 
  If you want, you can give that +1 forward to a crewmember instead. 
  • What’s something unusual or abnormal?
  • What’s a hidden feature?
  • How much is it worth to the right person?
  • Who touched or operated it most recently?
  • Where did it come from, who made it originally?
  On a miss, hold 1 anyway, but it breaks, and must be repaired.
  SOMETHING
  Analyzing something takes all kinds of forms: it could be just eyeballing it, 
  could be measuring it with various devices, could be taking it apart and put-
  ting it back together again, whatever. The point is, spend a chunk of time 
  examining an object in detail to learn more about it. Players can analyze the 
  same thing more than once, if they want more info—just be sure to remind 
  the players of the risks if they miss the roll.
  Generally speaking, you can analyze just about anything, as long as you 
  can hold or touch it and it isn’t a person. That means you can analyze a ship 
  when it’s docked, but not when it’s flying in space a kilometer away.
  This move has dual uses: for one thing, it’s just a good way to get informa-
  tion. There will be times when you’ll recover a piece of gear or scrap and not 
  know what it is, and this move will help. The other neat trick of this move 
  is that it’s a great way for less up-front playbooks—like the Tech and the 
  Sawbones—to beef up their rolls in non-specialist areas, and to help their 
  teammates out in a pinch. If a player wants to stack their +1 forwards into a 
  +2 or +3 forward, that’s fine.
  If players want to fiddle with the questions a bit, that’s probably fine.
  
  73
  Red the junker has just returned from picking over a stray hulk the ship’s 
  come across. She comes back with a long metal cylinder; on the top, there’s 
  a small numerical keypad and a lock, and on the bottom, there’s a couple of 
  electrical jacks. There’s a red blinking light next to the keypad, and “C68.4” 
  is stenciled on the side.
  “What is this thing?” Red’s player asks. “It’s clearly valuable, but I’ve got no 
  idea what it’s for.” 
  I turn to her. “Do you want to analyze something?” 
  “Sure,” she says, and she picks up the dice. She rolls a 6 and a 3, and has 
  +1 brain, for a total of 10. 
  “Great!” she says, “OK, first question: what’s this thing used for?” 
  “This is a multi-cell giga-battery,” I reply, “You plug it into something that 
  needs power—like a gun, say, or an engine—and it gives it a burst.” 
  Red’s player nods, thinking to herself. “Neat. Next question: who made this?” 
  I think for a second. “Corporate make. Probably from one of the factories on 
  Mars. They made a bunch of these a while ago, but not many recently.” 
  Red grins. “OK, final question: how much is this worth to the right person?” 
  “To a Corporate type that needs a replacement, easily three or four credits. 
  But, to some criminal folks, at this quality, it might be worth more.”
  With this information in hand, Red returns to her crew, and conveys what 
  she’s figured out. A little while later, the crew’s greaser, Clams, is trying to 
  repair their buzz saw; Red offers the battery as a potential power source, 
  and decides to give Clams +1 forward on the roll to repair something. Clams 
  has +2 brain, rolls a 4 and a 3, for a total of 9—but, because he has +1 for-
  ward from Red’s analysis, brings the total up to 10.
  EXAMPLE:
  
  74
  REPAIR
  When you repair something with your own two hands, roll+brain. 
  On a 10+, you spend a while and get it fixed. On a 7-9, you’ll get it 
  working, but the MC imposes one of the following:
  • It’ll hold for now, but will break again soon
  • It’ll take resources you don’t want to spend
  On a miss, you break it even worse than it already was, and the MC 
  will impose one of the above at minimum on top of whatever you 
  get if you try to repair it again.
  SOMETHING
  Stuff breaks all the time. There’s no way around it. Usually, though, when 
  something breaks, it’s then worth repairing—and that’s where this move 
  comes in. The phrase “it breaks, and must be repaired” pops up all over the 
  place in consequences for stuff, and this is the response. 
  One important technical rules-y bit here is that you very much cannot repair 
  rooms or people with this move. Greasers can repair rooms, but that’s their 
  special thing; medpacks and sawbones can heal people, but that’s also their 
  special thing. This is just for stuff. Items. Gear. Cargo. The kind of things that 
  can be picked up and moved around with.
  It’s also important to note that this move is slow. Making patches is fast, 
  basically instantaneous, but making repairs takes a while. Whether that’s 
  minutes or hours or days is up to you, but the point is that a player can’t go 
  and repair their gun in the middle of a fight. (Or, I mean, they can, but that’ll 
  take a while and be a big risk.)
  The two 7-9 consequences are worth elaborating a bit: the first means that 
  yeah, you repair it for now, but it will break later. When it breaks is up to you, 
  but I find it works best when you compound it with something else. Maybe 
  they repair a gun, get into a fight, miss, and then in addition to taking fire, 
  their gun breaks. Remember, turn up the heat.
  
  75
  Taking resources can come from two basic places: existing valuables they 
  have on hand, like some cargo or scrap—something quantitative—or else 
  from another intact piece of gear, like a weapon or tool—something quali-
  tative. The first is just resource drain, the second actively requires them to 
  destroy something else to repair this thing.
  EXAMPLE:
  Hambone, a bruiser, has just held one of the ship’s door’s shut to stop a 
  pirate boarding, and in the process his armor, a big metal flak jacket with 
  rivets and metal sewn in, tore open. Now that the pirates are dealt with, 
  Hambone’s player wants to fix his jacket. 
  “I’m going to spend a few hours to fix my armored jacket,” his player says. 
  “OK,” I say, “you’re repairing something.” 
  Hambone’s player rolls, and gets a 5 and a 2. Hambone has a flat +0 brain, so 
  that’s an even 7. “Bummer,” he says. 
  “Hmm,” I say, thinking for a moment, “OK, Hambone, you can fix your jacket, 
  but if want to get it back to where it was, it’s going to take the metal plating 
  from your pullover space suit.” 
  Hambone’s player rubs his chin. “And it’ll be permanently useless then?” 
  “Yep!” I say, brightly. 
  “Fine,” he says, and erases the suit from his sheet, but marks that his armor 
  is now fixed.
  
  76
  FAST-TALK
  When you fast-talk—bluff, swindle, coerce, mislead, cajole, stall, 
  or straight-up lie to someone—roll+face. When it’s an NPC, on a 
  10+, they buy it, whatever it is you’re selling them on. On a 7-9, 
  they’ll buy it, but the MC adds one more thing first:
  • They need some concrete proof of what you’re saying
  • They want something extra on top of what you’ve already got
  • They’re uncertain, not ready to go one way or the other
  When it’s a crewmember, on a 7-9, choose 1; on a 10+, choose both:
  • If they do what you want, they mark experience
  • If they don’t do what you want, they tighten your chain
  On a miss, either way, they see through your shit, and aren’t happy.
  This is the main social move. If a player wants to convince someone to do 
  something, or needs a favor, or just wants to get their way, this is the move.
  For NPCs, this move works as exactly as described. On a 7-9, you should 
  choose the option that fits best with the NPC that the player is trying to 
  convince. It’s also important to note that if you opt for the third option, that 
  can’t just mean that the player needs to fast-talk again—each of those 
  options means that something else, something that’s not just another face 
  roll, is required. What that requirement is varies, so let the PCs figure it out. 
  For PCs fast-talking other PCs, this is a little more complicated. Basically, the 
  PC trying to fast-talk another PC has two potential incentives, a carrot and a 
  stick: they can either offer them inspiration (the carrot), or they can tighten 
  their chain (the stick). On a 7-9, they get to apply one or the other; on a 10+, 
  they got both. The targeted PC never must agree with the PC making the roll, 
  but they’re definitely incentivized to do so.
  The stick there, the tightening of the chain, is also a little tricky. Since chains 
  are shared, a chain tightening is bad for both parties. This plays into the 
  threat a little more deeply: if the target refuses to go along with the PC roll-
  ing, then on some level, it’s their fault when the relationship sours. It’s a 
  manipulation tactic, but one that can be highly effective.
  
  77
  Jacobi, an envoy, is talking to Tonkers, the ship’s tech; they’ve just found a 
  new handgun, Authority make, shiny and valuable. 
  “Tonkers,” Jacobi’s player says in Jacobi’s elegant voice, “why don’t you 
  let me hang on to that handgun? You’re so rarely in a fight as-is.” Jacobi’s 
  player then looks to me. “I want to fast-talk Tonkers into letting me keep it.” 
  “Sure,” I say, “roll the dice.” Jacobi’s player rolls, and gets a 4 and a 5, 
  which, when added with Jacobi’s +2 face, comes out to an 11. “Nice!” Jaco-
  bi’s player exclaims. “If you don’t let me keep it, Tonkers is out a free expe-
  rience, and our chain will tighten.”
  Tonkers’ player thinks to herself. She turns to me: “My and Jacobi’s chain is 
  slack right now. What does taut mean, again?” 
  “Nothing immediately, it doesn’t change the way helping works or any-
  thing,” I explain, “but it does mean that you’re one step closer to choking. 
  So if anything else gets worse between you two, it’ll come to the choke.” 
  Tonkers’ player mulls this over. “Fine,” she eventually accedes, “Jacobi, you 
  get the handgun.” She marks experience, and Jacobi gets the gun.
  —
  Later, Jacobi is talking to an Authority officer, trying to wriggle out of an 
  inspection. “Oh, please, Officer,” Jacobi croons, “we just made it out of the 
  Belt, and we’re exhausted. Can’t we do this another time?” Jacobi’s player 
  looks at me: “I’m fast-talking him.”
  “Roll,” I say. Jacobi gets a 9 total. 
  “OK, the officer will do it, but he wants a bribe first. Say, 2-credit. He looks at 
  you, and holds out a gloved-and-armored hand.” I mime this.
  “Ugh,” Jacobi’s player says. “Fine. 2-credit down.” He marks the loss of 
  credit on his sheet.
  EXAMPLE:
  
  78
  THREATEN
  When you threaten someone to get them to do what you want, roll+
  face. On a 10+, they either have to do what you want, or suck up 
  whatever you’re threatening them with. On a 7-9, the target choos-
  es one:
  • They’ll do what you want, but with some conditions
  • They’ll do what you want, but fight and kick and scream
  • They run and protect themselves from your threat
  On a miss, they fight back, and will probably have the upper hand.
  If you threaten a fellow crewmember, they can choose to tighten 
  your shared chain, regardless of outcome.
  SOMEONE
  Threats are for when things are going south, but haven’t gone all the way 
  to shit quite yet. When fast-talking fails but the players aren’t quite sure if 
  they’re willing to go all-in on a fight, this is the move for them.
  The important mechanical maneuvering here is that the target—the person 
  being threatened—still gets to decide whether or not they go along with the 
  character making the move. If they don’t, they’ll get hurt, but if they think 
  they can tough it, the target’s free to do whatever they want after the blow.
  PCs don’t necessarily need to threaten someone with violence. That’s the 
  most common option for sure, but there are other options: being cut off 
  from resources or pay is an option, as is exclusion from a social or physical 
  space, or whatever else they come up with. As long as there’s a tangible 
  consequence at the end of the threat, that’s fine. 
  The last line, the chain-tightening, is there for two related reasons: the first 
  is to add some social weight to the whole thing, so that bruisers and smok-
  ers can’t just go around bullying everyone willy-nilly. I mean, they can, sure, 
  but they’ll start taking big social hits for it, and fast.
  
  79
  The other reason is the reverse: when a crewmember’s chains are already 
  choking them, they’ve got no incentive not to threaten people constantly.
  EXAMPLE:
  Roscoe, a smoker, is in an argument with Iota, a runner. Roscoe wants to 
  keep the broken-but-valuable coilgun the crew’s just recovered, but Iota 
  thinks it’s too dangerous, and they should sell it off. Things are getting very 
  heated.
  “Fuck it,” Roscoe says, and his player grabs the dice. “I point my sawn-off 
  at Iota’s face. I’m threatening someone!”
  “Peachy,” I say wryly, “make your roll.” 
  Roscoe gets a double 5, but has -1 face, for 9 total. 
  “Hmm,” Iota’s player says. “Fine. We can keep the gun, but I have some 
  conditions, first.” Her player smiles at Roscoe’s.
  Roscoe’s player grins, but Roscoe himself snarls. “What conditions?”
  Iota thinks for a second. “We keep it in the ship until it’s 100% fixed,” she 
  says, counting on her fingers, “we don’t use it unless we absolutely have 
  to, we don’t bring it anywhere closer to the Core than the Belt, and I want an 
  upgrade on my pistol.”
  Roscoe thinks for a second. “I guess that’ll have to do,” he says.
  “Iota,” I ask, “do you want to tighten your chain with Roscoe?”
  “Nah,” she says. “We’re taut already, and I think this honestly didn’t change 
  much between them. Roscoe got heated, I came out on top. I wouldn’t have 
  it any other way.”
  
  80
  GET IN A FIGHT
  When shit hits the fan and you get in a fight with something:
  ...if it’s a person, roll+spine:
  • On a 10+, you inflict harm on them
  • On a 7-9, you inflict harm on each other
  • On a miss, they inflict harm on you
  ...if it’s a ship, choose a room to target, then roll+spine:
  • On a 10+, you inflict harm on the room
  • On a 7-9, you inflict harm on each other, but: you get to pick the 
  room you target or the room they target, but not both; which-
  ever you don’t choose is the MC’s call
  • On a miss, they inflict harm on a room of the MC’s choice
  Enemy ships respond with the same category of gun (light or 
  heavy) you use on them.
  This is the catch-all combat move. The mechanics here are all pretty basic: 
  on a good roll, the attacker deals damage with no repercussions; on a bad 
  roll, they take damage with no benefits. On a 7-9, they get something in 
  between. (Remember that net harm inflicted is equal to the weapon’s harm 
  minus the armor of the target: a shotgun (3-harm) against a target with 1-ar-
  mor would deal a net 2-harm.)
  The trickiest thing here is the 7-9 roll on a ship vs ship fight. The detailed 
  breakdown is as follows: both ships fire on each other. If the players want, 
  they get to choose the room that they target aboard the enemy ship; al-
  ternatively, they can engage more defensively and choose the room the 
  enemies will target on their own ship. They don’t get both—if they were 
  defensive and offensive at the same time, it would’ve been a 10+ roll.
  Whichever they don’t choose, you get to decide: hit them where it hurts.
  If a player is fighting a ship without their own ship (by firing a shoul-
  der-mounted rocket or something), on a 7-9 they can choose the room to 
  target, and the ship will just fire right back at them. Remember that hull still 
  applies, so most small arms will do jack squat against a ship.
  
  81
  Most NPC ships with guns have at least one light and heavy gun. If they 
  lack one of those for some reason, make sure the players know, and then 
  respond with whatever you’ve got.
  EXAMPLE:
  Slapjaw, a bruiser, has just failed at negotiations with a local black market 
  dealer. Weapons are drawn, and things are about to go down.
  “Alright,” Slapjaw shouts, and she starts firing. “I’m getting in a fight!” she 
  yells, and rolls her dice. She gets a 2 and 3, but has a huge +3 spine, so ends 
  up with an 8 total. 
  “OK,” I say, “you deal harm to the dealer, and they deal to harm to you. 
  You’ve got an lmg for 5-harm, and they’ve got a sawn-off for 3-harm. Your 
  2-armor reduces the sawn-off down to 1-harm total.”
  Slapjaw’s player grins.
  “...and your lmg riddles the dealer with holes: they keel over, dead,” I finish.
  —
  Later, Slapjaw is manning the ship’s coilgun in a battle against a pirate ship 
  near the Belt. 
  “I fire at the pirates, targetting their engines!” Slapjaw’s player says. She 
  grabs the dice to roll, and gets a double 2, for a total of 7. “Ugh,” she spits.
  “So,” I ask, “either you can target the engines but those pirates will hit you 
  wherever they want, or you can pick where they’ll hit, but I decide where 
  your shot lands.”
  Slapjaw’s player thinks for a second. “They’re gonna hit our systems if they 
  can, which are almost fried. Fine. I want them to hit our bunks, which are 
  empty and not very important. Where do I hit them?”
  “Cargo bay,“ I say. “Not very important either, honestly.”
  
  82
  HOLD FIRM
  When you hold firm to withstand pressure or react without flinch-
  ing, roll+spine. On a 10+, you hold, it’s fine for now. On a 7-9, you 
  hold, but the MC chooses 1 of the following:
  • You suffer harm from the force you’re withstanding
  • Something you’re using breaks, and must be repaired
  • You face tough choice, a hard bargain, or an ugly outcome
  On a miss, you crack, and things go bad.
  Most moves in Rust Hulks have a very set function; they have a key set of 
  inputs and outputs, and while those can be expanded and morphed to taste, 
  they are generally quite specific. This, predictably, leaves a certain amount 
  of “open space” in the rules: situations that can reasonably arise in the fic-
  tion of the game, ones that require adjudication by dice, but aren’t covered. 
  This is where holding firm comes in. It’s one of the two moves in Rust Hulks—
  along with acting fast—that can serve as a one-size-fits-all (or, you know, 
  two-sizes-fit-all) set of rules for most other situations and scenarios that 
  your players can get into. 
  Holding firm is for situations where toughness, endurance, resilience, and 
  grit matter. Keeping in control of a failing room, kicking in an enemy hatch-
  way, holding cargo in place to stop it getting crushed—all are good ex-
  amples of holding firm. The consequences on a miss vary a bit, but you’re 
  allowed to make just about as hard a move as you please. 
  Both hold firm and act fast are more reactive moves; rather than have a 
  player say “I would like to hold firm to keep the door held shut,” it’s much 
  more likely that a player will want to hold a door shut, and then you’ll say 
  “OK, that’s holding firm, so grab your dice.” Holding firm is your tool to make 
  players go all in, to force them to commit to what they’re doing. This will 
  make sense once you’ve seen it in action a couple of times, trust me.
  Remember that despite being a more reactive move on the part of the play-
  ers, you shouldn’t (often) just force them to make a roll. If they want to hold
  
  83
  the door shut and you tell them it’ll take a roll, they’re well within their rights 
  to just let the door fly open. You should avoid ever just straight-up demand-
  ing a roll without an option for the players.
  EXAMPLE:
  McClellan, a jockey, has fled to her helm during a ship boarding. Authority 
  soldiers on the far side are trying to break down the door, and McClellan’s 
  doing her best to keep it closed.
  “The Authority soldiers are hitting the door—wham, wham, wham—with a 
  slow rhythm,” I explain, “You can feel it shudder with each blow.”
  “I slam my shoulder against the door,” McClellan’s player says, “just, you 
  know, doing everything I can to keep it shut.”
  “Sounds like you’re holding firm, yeah?” I confirm.
  “Yeah, I guess I am,” says McClellan’s player, and she rolls. She gets a 6 and 
  a 3, but only has +0 spine, for 9 total. 
  “Hmm,” I say aloud, “OK, here’s the deal: you can keep the door closed, but 
  the ship’s going to start to veer off-course, heading towards an asteroid. 
  It won’t hit immediately, you’ve got a little bit of time, but it’s a collision 
  course for sure. Or, you can leave the door and jump on the ship controls to 
  get out of the way. But then the Authority will be inside.”
  McClellan’s rubs at her eyes. “So either we veer towards an asteroid and the 
  Authority’s out of my helm, or we’re safe from the asteroid but the Author-
  ity’s inside?”
  “Yep.”
  “I hate you,” she says, with a dry chuckle, “but I keep the door closed. The 
  Authority’s worse than an asteroid any day of the week.”
  
  84
  ACT FAST
  When you act fast to avoid danger or rush to a goal, roll+gut. On a 
  10+, you pull it off just fine. On a 7-9, you make it work, but the MC 
  imposes one of the following:
  • You suffer harm in the rush to make it in time
  • Something you’re using breaks, and must be repaired
  • You face a tough choice, a hard bargain, or an ugly outcome
  On a miss, you don’t make it, and things go bad.
  Acting fast is the quick and nimble corollary to holding firm. They fit into the 
  same general space, being used to fill in the cracks and gaps between the 
  rest of the moves, but where holding firm is tough and unmoving, acting fast 
  is breezy and quick.
  When a character wants to do something that involves speed, agility, nim-
  bleness, or quick reactions, acting fast is the move for it. Gut, the stat used 
  for act fast, measures a character’s ability to act on instinct and intuition 
  alone, which is where acting fast comes in as a move. Leaping across two 
  ships, darting out of the way of an exploding engine, dashing behind an 
  Authority officer’s back—all are things that a crewmember has to act fast 
  to do successfully.
  Just like holding firm, acting fast is a more reactive kind of move. Typically, 
  you’ll impose on a player that wants to do something risky or potentially 
  dangerous, rather than have a player decide to do the move themselves. 
  Just remember the basic mantra of moves: to do it, do it. 
  While I don’t think it’s wildly relevant most of the time, this is also the move 
  that you use for most, like stealthy-sneaky-stabby type things. If a player 
  wants to sneak onto an Authority base, slip past some criminal bodyguards, 
  or filch a weapon from a merchant’s stall, they’re probably acting fast. Like 
  I said, stealth doesn’t really come up all that often, but it’s the kind of thing 
  players like to ask about, so it’s good to have something prepped for them.
  
  85
  EXAMPLE:
  Clams the greaser is in the engine room when the ship’s systems are hit. 
  Gravity and air both start to cut out, and everything starts to drift. 
  “Shit-shit-shit!” yells Clams. “I want to get to the systems as quick as I 
  can,” his player tells me.
  “OK. Sounds like you’re trying to act fast?”
  Clams’ player grimaces at his -1 gut. “Yeah,” he says, “I guess I am.” He 
  rolls, and ends up with a 4 and a 6, for 9 total—a good roll, all things con-
  sidered. 
  “Not too bad,” he says. “What am I in for?”
  “I think, in your rush to get up to the systems, you pretty quickly cycle all 
  the air in the engine room and in the hallways.”
  “OK—what does that actually mean?”
  “3-harm, I’d say,“ I tell him.
  “Oof, you’re killing me, man,” Clams says, huffing.
  “Nah,” I reply, “you’re not even unconscious. You’re fine.”
  “I hate you, MC,” Clams’ player says.
  “Love you, too,” I tell him with a smile.
  
  86
  When you get a read during a moment of tension or strain, roll+gut. 
  On a 10+, hold 2; on a 7-9, hold 1. Throughout this moment, you can 
  spend your hold, 1 for 1, to ask the MC the following questions, to 
  which they answer truthfully. If you act on the MC’s answers, take 
  +1 forward.
  • What’s hidden, obscured, or unclear?
  • How can I exploit a weakness, vulnerability, or opportunity?
  • What’s the largest uncounted threat, variable, danger?
  • What’s the best way I could                ?
  On a miss, hold 1 anyway, but prepare for the worst.
  GET A READ
  Getting a read is the other basic “I need information” move that players 
  have, along with analyzing something. In theory, these moves look similar: 
  both involve a roll, getting some holds, and then spending those holds for 
  answers and +1 forward. 
  The difference lies in the details: while the questions themselves are flexi-
  ble, all of analyze something’s questions are about the object in question, 
  and lean towards theoretical. Getting a read has questions that are active 
  and pressing: they’re whats and wheres, not hows or whys. 
  On top of this, the conditions for activating are different: getting a read re-
  quires the character to be in a moment of tension or strain. If they’re just sit-
  ting around or idly talking, they can’t get a read. There needs to be conflict, 
  danger, tension—situations that demand action, and fast. Analysis is slow 
  and methodical; reading is fast and intuitive.
  Finally, while both moves give +1 forward, getting a read is solely for the 
  crewmember making the move. That player is the only one that gets +1 for-
  ward, they can’t share it around. Consider the difference between crew-
  members with high brain—techs, sawbones, and greasers—as opposed 
  to crewmembers with high gut, like runners or jockeys. The former is inter-
  ested in maintaining and supporting the ship and crew; the latter are action 
  heroes. Which do you think is more likely to share their info?
  
  87
  EXAMPLE:
  Tonkers, a junker, has just landed on a drifting hulk, a ways off from her ship. 
  It’s an ex-Authority ship, ripped and torn from weapon fire and damage, but 
  some of its defensive systems might still be online. Tonkers is nervous.
  “Can I get a read?” her player asks.
  “Would you call this a moment of tension or strain?” I reply.
  “Yeah,” she says, after a second, “this hulk is sketchy as hell. There might 
  be, like, robots or turrets or wreckers or something here.”
  “Sure, then,” I say, “roll.”
  Tonkers has +1 gut, and rolls a 6 and a 4, for 11 total. “OK,” she says, “first 
  question: what’s the largest uncounted danger here?”
  I think for a second. “This hulk is coming apart, but some areas of the thrust-
  ers are still intact. If you spend too long here, you risk triggering those 
  thrusters, and you’ll be sent hurtling into space.”
  “Fantastic,” she says. “Second question, since I got a 10+: what’s hidden 
  here?”
  “Scanning around, you can tell by the pipework that the fuel for this partic-
  ular ship is a kind of liquid helium-based fluid. Very, very valuable if you can 
  siphon it properly.”
  “OK,” Tonkers’ player says, “I want to scrape a hulk, here, trying to get at 
  that nitrogen fuel.”
  “Roll,” I say, “and take +1 forward.”
  Tonkers’ player rolls, getting a 3 and a 4, but her +2 junk and +1 forward from 
  getting a read bring her to a 10 total.
  
  88
  When you’ve got no time and can only afford to make a patch, 
  roll+junk. On a 10+, the thing is back to working, and will hold for 
  the time being. On a 7-9, it’s working now, but something else will 
  break, or it’s not quite as effective as it was. On a miss, the thing is 
  just broken to shit.
  MAKE A PATCH
  There will be moments where something really important break at an incred-
  ibly bad time, and your players will rush to fix it. At this point, it’s important 
  to remind that repairing something takes time—time they often won’t have. 
  This is where making a patch is suddenly very important.
  The most important thing about making a patch is time: patches are both 
  very quick to make, sometimes taking only a few seconds, but are always 
  temporary. At some point, every patch will break. They can patch it again 
  and again and again, sure, but they’ll have to live with knowing that they’re 
  always one bad moment away from a breakdown.
  Generally speaking, you should have patches fail at bad times. Remember, 
  one of your principles is to turn up the heat: having temporary fixes sudden-
  ly break down is a fantastic way to do that. 
  The second-most important thing about patches is that they work on just 
  about everything. Gear, obviously, but also rooms, other mechanisms, may-
  be even people. It’s flexible because it’s bad; patches are temporary, but 
  can be applied to anything.
  If a player misses the roll on making a patch, break the thing even worse 
  than it was; stack on extra problems, deal some damage to something else, 
  or have them attract unwanted attention for it. Unlike repairing something, 
  where you can go slow and take your time, failing to make a patch usually 
  makes things even worse than before.
  What exactly “broken to shit” means is up to you, really. Whatever you 
  choose, be sure it’s uncomfortable and nasty for the crew.
  
  89
  EXAMPLE:
  Locksley, a tech, is working in their systems when the pirate ship the crew 
  is fighting strikes the engines, destroying them. The ship is left adrift, and 
  so Locksley goes to investigate. She can’t just repair it —since repair some-
  thing doesn’t apply to rooms—and she doesn’t have the time anyway, so 
  she’ll have to make a patch.
  “OK,” Locksley’s player says, “I’m making a patch for the engines, some-
  thing to get us moving while we fend off these pirates.”
  “Sure,” I say, “Make your roll.”
  Locksley’s player rolls a double 4, with Locksley’s +0 junk, for an 8 total.
  “Hm, alright,” I say, thinking aloud, “the engines are back online, they’re 
  working for now, but there’s an issue. I’d say that, given the damage, they’re 
  at -1 forward for all rolls. Both for stunts and for spans. Seem reasonable?”
  Locksley’s player is frustrated, but nods anyway.
  “Great!” I say.
  
  90
  When you scrape a hulk for valuables, roll+junk. On a 10+, you find 
  useful or valuable or both. On a 7-9, you get something, but it’s 
  broken or incomplete or has strings attached. On a miss, you find 
  nothing good, and very likely something bad.
  SCRAPE A HULK
  Out in the hulks, there are all kinds of strange things to be found, tucked 
  away in forgotten corners and rusted-shut safes. Naturally, being able to 
  rummage through these—to have the good sense of where to look and what 
  to leave well alone—is a valued skill. 
  Any wreck counts as a hulk. A smashed fragment they stumble on, a ship 
  they blow to pieces themselves, a ruined building they’re hiding from the 
  Authority in: all fine. Pretty much anytime they want to go hunting for valu-
  ables, let them. Part of what the junk stat determines is a crewmember’s 
  ability to find useful shit, or at least find something useful in shit. 
  What you give them is up to you, and up to the circumstances they find 
  themselves in. There are a couple of moves that will let the players decide 
  what they find, but it’s usually in your hands. This is where you can flex a 
  little: if you’re feeling generous, give them exactly what they need, be that 
  repair kits or medpacks or just high-value scrap. If you’re feeling a bit less 
  benevolent, give them something that would’ve been valuable a session ago 
  instead.
  If they succeed, you always have to give them something. Because of that, 
  it’s a mistake to explicitly plan what any hulk has on it beforehand; add what 
  you need if it’s called for, but otherwise let sleeping dogs lie. Sometimes, 
  they might analyze something or get a read to determine what a hulk has 
  ahead of time, in which you have to stich with what you told them, but oth-
  erwise, what’s aon a hulk is pretty variable up to the momen thtey have it 
  in their hands. 
  Generally speaking, they can’t scrape the same hulk more than once, really, 
  unless something significant changes about it.
  
  91
  EXAMPLE:
  Clams, a greaser, is in need of medical attention. The ship’s passing by a 
  nearby hulk, so Clams decides this might be a good moment to go fishing 
  for medicine.
  “Alright,” says Clams’ player, “I want to scrape a hulk, see if I can’t drum up 
  some medpacks.”
  “Sure,” I say, “you throw on a space suit and glide out to the hulk. Make your 
  move.”
  Clams’ player rolls a 6 and a 1, plus Clams +1 junk, for 8 total.
  I decide to be generous to Clams, given how badly he was hurt due to oxy-
  gen deprivation. “As you approach, Clams, you can tell this hulk still has a 
  mostly-intact infirmary attached.”
  “Nice!” says Clams.
  “But,” I continue, “some previous squatter has gotten to it first. The entire 
  infirmary’s been rigged with explosives: one false move, and the whole thing 
  will detonate.” Not all that generous, really.
  “Fuck you, MC,” Clams’ player says, half-serious half-laughing, “I just don’t 
  want to die, come on!”
  I shrug at him, smirking.
  “Fine,” he says, “I’ll try to grab the supplies anyway. I take it I’m acting fast 
  yet again?”
  “Yep!” I say brightly.
  
  92
  
  CAPTAIN
  MOVES
  PERI-
  &
  PHERAL
  
  94
  THE ROLE OF
  CAPTAIN
  Every crew needs a Captain.
  There are many reasons why this statement is true, and honestly, many 
  more why it probably isn’t.
  In Rust Hulks, the Captain exists for two purposes: first it’s a way to have 
  some fun, interesting powerful moves—the ones covered in this chapter—
  but have them be not-quite-universal for all the players. Each playbook gets 
  their own special Captaincy move, too, so there’s extra spice. It’s the kind 
  of thing that hooks players in, the desire to have this unusual, special ex-
  perience in an RPG.
  The Captain is also in the game because it’s a good tool for examining power 
  dynamics. Most RPGs are quite, if democratic, then at least decentralized. 
  Players are assumed to be of roughly equal status and power, and thus de-
  cisions happen within the group as a whole.
  Not so in Rust Hulks.
  Part of what makes the juice, the drama of the game, come out is how play-
  ers treat the Captain. Yes, Captains do have access to a couple more moves 
  and have slightly better stats, but really, they can’t do all that much that’s 
  special. Really, the power of the Captain is what the players make of it. 
  On some crews, everyone defers to the Captain for everything; in others, the 
  Captain is expected to have to force on everyone else to be obeyed. Figuring 
  this dynamic out is key to the interpersonal drama of the game, messy as 
  it might be. 
  Every Captain gets access to all of the Captain moves, plus their playbook’s 
  special Captaincy move.
  
  95
  When you meet somebody important (your call), roll+face. On a 10+, 
  they’ve heard of you and your ship, you decide what they’ve heard. 
  On a 7-9, they’ve heard of you, and so they’ll want something from 
  you. On a miss, the MC decides what they’ve heard.
  REPUTATION
  This lets Captains have some sway, build up some clout across the system, 
  and make sure that when you walk into a room, people know who you are. 
  How exactly NPCs respond to what the Captain names as their reputation is 
  up to you. If a Captain decides their reputation to be benevolent and kind, 
  have similar NPCs respond well and bullying or callous NPCs respond mock-
  ingly. On the flipside, if a Captain makes their reputation be fearsome and 
  intimidating, then have weak NPCs be fearful, but confident NPCs be aggres-
  sive. Play off what they give you.
  In general, this move is meant to compound in others; it might open some 
  doors on its own, certainly, but typically this is used to set the scene for 
  other moves to then come into effect more greatly. 
  In the case of a 7-9, the effect is almost too good. Their reputation pre-
  cedes them to the degree that the important person has now decided to 
  want something from the Captain: often a favor, but potentially some kind 
  of tribute or acknowledgement. It’s a fun kind of reversal of the role: people 
  in the area definitely have still heard of the Captain, but it comes with cost.
  On a miss, set the scene badly. Tell the Captain what people think of them, 
  and don’t go easy. This can ruin deals, summon the Authority, piss of crimi-
  nals, and all other sorts of shenanigans. When this happens, make sure that 
  the Captain knows what the NPCs think of them: you can say it directly, you 
  can have NPCs mention it in-character, or you can think of some other meth-
  od. Whatever you do, make sure the Captain knows it; to simply be hated 
  and not know why is awful.
  
  96
  When one of the crew misses a roll you can force someone else to 
  help them, whether they ask or not. Choose another crewmember, 
  then roll+spine. On a 10+, it’s cool, it’s fine, they help. On a 7-9, after 
  they’ve helped, your chain with the forced crew member tightens. 
  On a miss, your chain with the forced crew member tightens, and 
  that forced crew member also chooses one of your other chains to 
  tighten, too.
  ALPHA DOG
  This is the “enforcer” move for Captains. It lets them push and bully their 
  crew when they need to or want to. A Captain can’t use it to force their crew 
  to fail a roll, but it can definitely push more rolls into successes, or at least 
  into the 7-9 range.
  On a mechanical level, this move functions similarly to threatening some-
  one—on a good roll, they do what you want, on a middling one they do 
  it with some conditions, and on a bad one they don’t. The difference here 
  is that it’s only for helping someone, nothing else, and the consequences 
  solely affect chains, and nothing else.
  Essentially, the Captain risks their relationships deteriorating in order to 
  make sure that the shit they need done gets done. If this move really goes 
  wrong, it can be devastating for the Captain: make sure they know it before 
  they start flinging this move around. If it goes right, however, it lets them 
  execute long and complicated plans with more-or-less guaranteed success. 
  As with threatening someone, a Captain’s that at choking with their whole 
  crew can more or less bully them at will, since their relationships have 
  soured as much as they ever can.
  It’s also worth mentioning that his one of the few moves that really can 
  compel a crewmember to do something their player doesn’t want them to 
  do. That can get snarly, if it gets out hand; if you have a Captain player that 
  is abusing this move and it can’t be solved in-game, don’t be afraid to step 
  in as the MC directly.
  
  97
  When you put the word out and try to land a job, name the type 
  of job you want and whether you want legal or illegal work, then 
  roll+face. On a 10+, both are true; on a 7-9, choose one:
  • You get the type of job you want
  • You get the legality you want
  On a miss, neither of these are going to be true.
  GET A JOB
  Without a job, a ship’s on the fast track to becoming a hulk. Captains can 
  ensure otherwise. 
  It’s important to note that a Captain can’t literally fail to get a job. There’s 
  always work, it’s just not work the Captain or the crew would like to do. It’s 
  also important to make clear that if a Captain turns down a job, they have 
  to travel to find a job—at least a span, maybe more if you’re feeling less 
  generous. If the crew lacks the funds to do so, then, well, they can either 
  start stripping the ship for scrap or turn to petty crime, neither of which is 
  a good option.
  Remember the five types of jobs: the Haul, the Ferry, the Escort, the Fetch, 
  and the Hit. If the Captain doesn’t remember all five, remind them, and make 
  sure they know the basic strokes and common pay grade of each. You can 
  find detailed breakdowns of each on page 159.
  Legality really only determines if the work is on the right or wrong side of the 
  Authority. A legal job will mean that what you’re doing is less likely to attract 
  their attention and will be less of an issue if you do; an illegal job means 
  there’s a higher chance they’ll take interest, and there will be severe con-
  sequences for doing so. Still, illegal jobs nearly always pay better than legal 
  ones, so it would do a Captain well to weigh their options before embarking.
  Once the move’s been made, fill the Captain in on the specifics of this job, 
  give them a chance to make a move or two with the employer if the Captain 
  would like to change their terms a bit, and then tell the Captain to decide if 
  they take the job or not.
  
  98
  When you finally finish the job and are coming in to get paid by 
  your employer, roll+gut. On a 10+, choose 2 of the following. On a 
  7-9, choose 1:
  • You’ll be paid in full, as agreed (otherwise, you’ll get shorted)
  • They won’t try to screw you at some point (otherwise, things 
  will get ugly)
  • Nobody will hear about this deal (otherwise, word will get 
  around about it)
  On a miss, none of these things are going to be true.
  GET PAID
  When the job’s done and the ship’s coming in to seal the deal, it’s the Cap-
  tain’s job to scope things out. Jobs are never perfectly clean.
  The first is simple; if the Captain doesn’t take this option, their pay will get 
  docked. Maybe it’s a little, maybe it’s a lot. Maybe the employer has good 
  reasons for being low on cash, but they’re probably just greedy. Those de-
  tails are up to you: the point is, the pay’s getting slashed.
  The second is also pretty simple; things getting ugly means that at some 
  point, someone will pull a gun or knife or grenade on someone else. A fight 
  doesn’t necessarily break out, but the chances of that happening skyrocket. 
  How that ugliness emerges and plays out will vary, but it will happen.
  The third is more complicated. Not picking this option rarely has immediate 
  consequences, instead showing its true colors later on. Maybe it’s pirates 
  hearing that the Captain’s crew has just gotten paid; maybe it’s the Author-
  ity coming in to crack down on illegal jobs; maybe it’s just some other em-
  ployer getting offended that you didn’t choose them.
  For each point not chosen, the players should hurt for it. But! It’s not like 
  each of these happens in a purely mechanical vacuum. For each case, you 
  should make sure that the Captain and the crew have a chance to rectify the 
  situation. These are problems that the players can and should deal with, not 
  things happening in the ether.
  
  99
  PERIPHERAL
  MOVES
  The peripheral moves, as they’re called, are four moves that only come into 
  effect in special ways. They’re different than most moves, either because 
  they’re triggered at unusual times or they call for unusual mechanical ef-
  fects or because they work in mechanically different ways than normal.
  The three moves are:
  • The Choke, when a relationship between crewmembers bombs.
  • Contacts, when one crewmember calls in a friend (or “friend”).
  • Help, when one crewmember helps another, with some cost.
  • Death, when a crewmember would die but may not.
  All crewmembers are affected by all four of these moves. 
  Some playbook moves will make reference to these peripheral moves; treat 
  them as you would any other basic move or Captain move. 
  When they come into effect, take special care to explain to your players how 
  and why they do; sometimes things may seem unclear at first glance, but it 
  should all start to fit together after playing through each a couple of times.
  
  100
  THE CHOKE
  When one of your chains tightens to choking and you weren’t the 
  cause of it, roll+heat. On a miss, you sizzle and simmer but don’t 
  pop, at least for now. On a 7-9, keep doing whatever you’re doing, 
  but the next moment you’ve got time, you go and confront them 
  about it. On a 10+, drop whatever it is you’re doing and go confront 
  them about it—right here, right now.
  Any time a chain tightens, one party, one of the two people the chain con-
  nects, is the cause of it. Maybe it was intentional, maybe it wasn’t, but ei-
  ther way: someone did something, and now the chain has tightened. If that 
  tightening brings the chain to choking, the other party—the one that didn’t 
  tighten the chain—rolls this move. 
  As always, +heat refers to that person’s heat on the chain in question.
  This move is the only one in the game where having a high roll is the less-op-
  timal outcome: heat is the raw strength of your feelings, so a high heat leads 
  to more intense feelings and a low heat leads to less intense ones.
  What “confrontation” means here is up to your players, and up to the nature 
  of their relationship. The classic example is two friends that each feel the 
  other has betrayed them: this leads to strong words, blood running hot, and 
  possible violence. Whatever the relationship is, as it sours and the chain 
  tightens, there will be some core conflict, and that is where the confronta-
  tion arises most strongly.
  The main upside of a 7-9 as opposed to a 10+ is timing; chains tighten most 
  often in dire situations, and so being able to let the confrontation lie dormant 
  can be a huge boon. Without it, on a 10+, the two characters will likely be 
  indisposed for some time instead of dealing with more pressing matters.
  As MC, play this up. Remind them of why their chain tightened to begin with. 
  Spark some trouble if you need to: this is the consequence for having heat, 
  make sure they feel those flames.
  
  101
  CONTACTS
  At the start of a job, hold [X]. At any time throughout the job, when 
  you need someone with specific skills or connections, you can 
  spend your hold, 1 for 1, and there’ll be somebody who fits the bill 
  right there, or at least nearby: roll+[stat]. On a 10+, they’re friendly 
  and will gladly help for a good price. On a 7-9, they’re around, yeah, 
  but they’ll bring trouble, too. On a miss, they’ll help you, but there’ll 
  be hell to pay afterwards.
  Every playbook gets this, but it’s got slight variations. Most only get 1 hold, 
  but a few get more. The stat they roll varies, too: the more social-y play-
  books add their face, but the geekier ones add their brain. 
  Regardless of the amount of hold and the stat used, this move always works 
  the same way: a good roll gets somebody friendly, who’ll help for cheap. A 
  middling result get somebody good, sure, but they usually bring more trou-
  ble with them. A miss is big trouble. The key thing here is that this move 
  always works; it might not always be a good deal, it might bring trouble with 
  it, but it always works.
  Players tend to use this in two ways: the first is the “solve this esoteric 
  problem we’re having.” They’re tracking someone who’s gone to ground, 
  they’re trying to sell unusual goods, they’re on the run from somebody 
  strange, that kind of thing. The second is the “oh god, oh fuck, please help.” 
  They’re stranded and out of fuel, they’re outgunned, they’re on the run from 
  the Authority, whatever. Point is, they need help, and they’ll pay whatever 
  they need to get it.
  Both are valid. 
  The key thing for you to think about is the cost; generally, this should match 
  the ask being made of the contact. If it’s a big one, like hiding from the Au-
  thority, you can impose a high cost; if it’s a small, like fencing grey-market 
  goods, it’s a cheap ask. Remember that costs can be in all sorts of forms: 
  credits, obviously, but also favors, tasks, or even small jobs.
  
  102
  HELP
  When you make a roll and don’t like the result, you can call for help:
  one crewmember who isn’t doing anything right now can come 
  to help you. Once a crewmember’s helping you, they decide how 
  many +1s they want to add to the roll. For each +1 added, the crew-
  member helping chooses one consequence:
  • The crewmember take 1-harm (ap)
  • The room you’re in takes 1-harm (ap)
  • Something important breaks, and must be repaired
  • The crewmember heats their chain with the other
  • The chain between the two crewmembers tightens
  If you and the helping crewmember have a slack or taut chain:
  • The helping crewmember suffers the consequences for each +1
  • Add the lower of the two heats between the crewmembers to 
  the roll being helped
  If you and the helping crewmember have a choking chain:
  • You suffer the consequences for each +1
  • Subtract the higher of the two heats between the crewmem-
  bers to the roll being helped
  This is the most complicated move in the entire game, so I’m going to give a 
  brief summary, and then break everything down blow by blow.
  A roll that you don’t like means just that: a roll you don’t like. Obviously, this 
  covers all misses, but if a player desperately wants a 10+, they can ask for 
  help for that, too. Don’t restrict what they call for help on. 
  Generally, a crewmember can only help if they aren’t doing anything else 
  particularly important. This means they can’t be in the midst of some other 
  activity, like fighting, piloting, repairing, or whatever else they might be do-
  ing. It’s important to have a sense of the temporal; players should have to 
  commit to what they’re doing at the expense of all else (at least sometimes).
  After they’ve been summoned, the helper gets to decide how much they 
  want to increase the roll by. Suggestions are fine, but it’s helper’s call.
  
  103
  Then there’s a list of consequences; for every +1 added to the roll, a con-
  sequence is suffered (though who suffers it varies). Part of the question to 
  this move is whether the consequences of helping are worth the increase in 
  result. Turning a 6 into a 7 is almost certainly worth it, but a 4 to a 10 is iffier. 
  It’s important that consequences happen after a move is complete. If a 
  crewmember asks for help fighting and the shotgun they’re using breaks, 
  that break doesn’t happen until the full move is done.
  So, now for the hardest part: the differences in helping based on chains. This 
  is harder in theory than it is in practice—the narrative behind it is simple, 
  but can be tricky to properly grok. Worry not, though; you’ll get it.
  If the crewmember being helped and the helper have a slack or strained 
  chain, the helper eats the consequences. On top of that, the original roll 
  automatically gets free +1s added equal to the lower heat of the two chains. 
  If the crewmember has +1 heat and the helper has +3, the roll gets +1 for free. 
  This encourages parity in heat between crewmembers, and it also encour-
  ages those crewmembers with the highest heat and slack chains to help 
  each other more often. They like each other more, and so help each other 
  more often, and are better at it because they like each other.
  If the crewmember being helped and the helper have a choking chain, it’s the 
  original crewmember that eats the consequences. Added to that, the crew-
  member suffers extra consequences equal to the higher of the two heat. If 
  the crewmember has +1 heat and the helper has +3, the crewmember suffers 
  an extra three consequences, plus whatever they suffer for adding on +1s.
  This is the risk of heat: having a high heat means that, with slack chains, 
  helping is all fun and games forever. With a choking chain, however, a high 
  heat means that being helped will automatically incur huge penalties, and 
  should only be done in times of dire need. Remember the helper decides how 
  many +1s to add and which consequences to inflict: they hold the power.
  Helping is where the game is at its most interlocked, and its most intense. 
  Very hot chains carry high risk and high reward—that’s good drama.
  
  104
  DEATH
  When you reach 5-harm and would die, you have a choice: you can 
  die, or you can barely scrape by.
  If you choose the latter, you heal 1-harm to unconscious, and the 
  rest of the crew decides as a group which of the following occurs:
  • Deal 5-harm (ap) to the room you’re currently in; any excess 
  damage gets dealt to other rooms of the MC’s choice.
  • Change all of your chains to choking, heat all of your chains, 
  and everyone heats their chain with you. If all of your chains 
  are already choking, this option is not available.
  • If the crew is currently on a job, that job is a failure: you all 
  forfeit, bail, or pull out, and there’s no way to get this job back.
  If you are the Captain, when you reach 5-harm, you do not get the 
  choice to die or not: your crew decides for you instead.
  At some point, things will go so sideways and so awry that a crewmember 
  will die. It happens. Don’t sweat it.
  When they would die, the crewmember has a choice: they can die, or they 
  can live, but at high cost. After they choose, the rest of the crew get to 
  decide which cost to incur—they know their friend needs saving, but how?
  The first option is just raw damage: it’ll ruin the current room and likely one 
  or two others. Depending on where the crewmember died, this could either 
  be disastrous or merely an inconvenience. Where the rest of the damage 
  goes is up to you: be sure to make it sting. Narratively, when the crew picks 
  this option, describe how the ensuing damage barely threw the nearly-dead 
  crewmember free, but sparked a destructive chain reaction in the process.
  The second option is social: it makes the nearly-dead crewmember’s life hell 
  for a while, as their near-death experience changes them for the worse. Be 
  a bit sensitive with this option; it’s a popular choice among certain players, 
  but for players that lean heavily into their relationships, it can leave them 
  raw and vulnerable. For the first group, ham it up; for the second, let them 
  cool off for a bit if they need it. 
  
  105
  The third option is commercial: it throws away the profit the crew would’ve 
  gotten, and wastes any resources they’ve already committed. Depending 
  on how deep the crew is and how big a job they’re on, this ranges in conse-
  quence; a small job or a job they’ve just started is not a big deal, while a big 
  job they’re a ways into will be a huge loss. In describing how this all plays 
  out, focus on how, to save this crewmember’s life, the crew had to give up 
  their chance on this job, be that through burning all their fuel, enlisting the 
  help of the Authority, or whatever else fits.
  Captains that almost die face a reckoning: if they were a good Captain, 
  they’ll be fine. But, if they mistreated their crew, that crew can now simply 
  choose to let them bleed out and walk away. This also means that if a crew 
  decides to blow away their Captain, their Captain doesn’t get to sit up, and 
  in doing so cause the crew further harm.
  Whichever option is chosen, explain it in the fiction: as the crewmember 
  stumbles and nearly dies, the fiction of the world changes. As with all things, 
  these decisions do not exist in a mechanical vacuum, and you should work 
  to reflect players’ choices onto the world of the game. 
  Be cautious with all of these. Death always makes players tense, so be tact-
  ful and conscious of the table when playing through this scenario.
  
  106
  
  SHIP
  ROOMS
  &
  MOVES
  
  108
  ROOMS
  Every ship is made up of rooms, and each of those rooms has its own dis-
  tinct, independent functions. This chapter covers each of those rooms, what 
  their basic functions are, what their specific room moves are, and how those 
  rooms fit into the broader ship as a whole.
  Room moves follow the same mantra as ordinary moves: to do it, do it. And, 
  just with ordinary moves, that goes both ways: if you do it, you’re doing it, 
  so get out your dice. 
  Rooms have two key differences from ordinary moves: the first is that a 
  room move must always be made from that room (unless a crewmember’s 
  got a specific move that lets them do otherwise): a crewmember can’t pull 
  a stunt from the armory, for example. The second is that in order to make a 
  room move, the room has to be intact; it can be damaged, but it can’t have 
  filled its harm all the way.
  Rooms also use a specific stat for nearly all of their moves: their size, rang-
  ing from tiny (size+0) to large (size+3). If a room move ever says to “roll+-
  size,” that refers to that room’s size. 
  If a room is damaged, it’s size isn’t reduced; it’s still functioning, and so still 
  rolls with its normal size. (This does encourage ships to fly around with a 
  bunch of almost-destroyed rooms, since crews are skimpy —but that sort 
  of feels on-brand, doesn’t it?)
  
  109
  Hull works just like regular armor: it reduces any incoming harm by 
  an amount equal to the hull. 
  This only works on attacks made from outside the ship.
  Hull is always the same across the entire ship.
  HULL
  The hull is the layer of armor and plating that covers the outside of the ship. 
  The hull isn’t a room, not really, but it’s effectively as such. It’s got no moves 
  and no active function other than just existing. The hull can’t be damaged 
  or worsened; sure, it’ll take some beating and bruising, but that’s just rolled 
  into the damage the rest of the rooms take. 
  Hull works just like regular armor, by reducing harm taken by the hull’s rat-
  ing; that is, if a 7-harm cannon is firing at hull with 5-armor, the total comes 
  out to 2-harm. Hull’s always the same across the entire ship; there’s no 
  extra armor in the front or back or whatever, it’s equal across the board. 
  This, critically, only works on attacks coming from outside the ship. If a 
  boarder storms into the infirmary and starts blasting away, the hull will do 
  nothing to nullify that harm whatsoever. Very useful for ship combat, not so 
  helpful otherwise.
  Not that this has many strict mechanical effects, but the hull of a ship is 
  also the first that thing an observer of that ship sees. How that ship looks 
  can definitely affect their perceptions: Authority ships are sleek, shiny, and 
  dark; merchant ships are bulky, dull, and labeled; pirate ships are patched, 
  spiky, and painted; freighter ships are anywhere in between.
  
  110
  When you outrun or overtake something, roll+size. On a 10+, you 
  outrun them or overtake them just fine. On a 7-9, you still do so, but 
  choose one of the following:
  • split 3-harm (ap) between you and the engine, your call how
  • you must hold firm or else miss the roll entirely
  On a miss, you don’t outrun or overtake them; prepare for the worst.
  ENGINE
  The engine room holds the engine; the engine is what makes the ship move. 
  Every single ship that moves has an engine: if a ship doesn’t have an engine, 
  it’s either a station or a hulk.
  If the engine’s destroyed, the ship can’t move. It can maybe turn and wiggle 
  and twitch a little bit—running off the helm’s control and whatever fumes 
  are left—but it can’t go anywhere. A ship with a destroyed engine’s little 
  more than a hulk with the lights still on.
  The engine room move is pretty straightforward: when the crew wants to 
  outrun something, usually meaning they escape or evade someone, or 
  when they want to overtake something, meaning they catch up to or pass 
  by someone, they roll+size. It’s the catch-all “go fast” move..
  On a 7-9, whoever’s at the engine has two choices: they can either eat a 
  bunch of harm across themselves and the engine—probably as it sparks 
  and flares and spits out slag—or they can make another move, hold firm, 
  which puts off the damage further. If they’ve got a good spine, they’ll prob-
  ably for the latter, but if they don’t (and few greasers or junkers do) they 
  might just opt to suffer the harm, and pray they don’t suffer any worse. 
  The key for you, the MC, to remember is to play up the scale. If the crew’s got 
  a dinky little engine, make sure they feel that: describe other ships’ roaring 
  fires and hefty rotors. By contrast, if they’ve got a good engine, make sure 
  to mark how much larger the crew’s is by comparison, how their ship en-
  gines dwarf all others. Big engines are always better; more power, more fuel, 
  more juice. Play that up.
  
  111
  When you pull a stunt to get the ship to fly better than it has any 
  right to, roll+gut. On a 10+, you do it, just fine.
  On a 7-9, you still do it, but choose one of the following:
  • split 3-harm (ap) between you and the helm, however you want
  • you must hold firm or else miss the roll entirely
  On a miss, you fail your stunt: prepare for the worst.
  HELM
  The helm is the counterpart to the engine; the engine is power, the helm is 
  control. Every ship has helm: a ship without a helm is a station, or a hulk. 
  If the helm’s destroyed, the ship can’t be controlled. A ship without a helm 
  can only go straight forward; makes it really just the system’s biggest 
  manned torpedo—dangerous, sure, but not actually useful. 
  The helm’s move is also pretty straightforward: when the crew needs to do 
  something dangerous or daring, they roll to pull a stunt. Fancy loops, tight 
  squeezes, evasive maneuvers, rough landings—all stunts. 
  On a 7-9, they’ve got the same choice as the engine: they can either eat 
  a boatload of harm, or they can gamble further. Jockeys and runners will 
  sometimes have some spine, but not always, and so they’re forced into 
  gambling a bit more. It’s a dicey, dangerous proposition: as the crew and 
  ship get more and more battered, they’re forced into taking bigger risks. 
  When you’re describing how the helm operates, contrast is key. The size of 
  the helm is shown not so much in the literal space of the cockpit, but rather 
  in the size and strength of the ship’s controls, and how well the helm is 
  connected to everything else.
  A big helm, a helm with a lot of wiring and connections and mechanisms 
  under the hood, will feel smooth and easy and tight. A small helm, one that’s 
  basically just a steering wheel strapped onto an axle from the engine, will 
  feel rough and janky and awkward. Selling that difference, especially as the 
  crew improves their ship, will sell the whole experience.
  
  112
  When you lock down a room on the ship, roll+size. On a 7-9, choose 
  1 of the following to explicitly disallow the flow of into the room; on 
  a 10+, choose 2:
  • air
  • small arms fire
  • people and objects
  On a miss, the MC chooses 2 against you in a room of their choice.
  SYSTEMS
  The systems are the last essential component to a ship, along with the helm 
  and engine. The systems provide air and gravity, first and foremost, but also 
  allow a greater measure of control over the ship’s individual rooms. 
  If the systems are destroyed, the artificial gravity on the ship will cut out, 
  meaning everyone and everything will start floating—and the air will cut 
  out, meaning everyone will start suffocating and be dead in minutes. As you 
  might imagine, if a ship doesn’t have systems, it’s a hulk.
  The systems room move essentially locks down a room aboard the ship, 
  blocking a combination of: air flow, gunshots, or physical objects. A high roll 
  cuts out two, which can deal with more or less all threats, while a midrange 
  roll only cuts out one, leaving some open. On a miss, some room somewhere 
  on the ship is going to end up in a bad way, though how bad is up to you.
  A bigger systems room doesn’t necessarily mean that the physical space 
  the crew walks around in is bigger. Instead, it means that the underlying 
  power of the systems—its computers and scanners and monitors and 
  switchboards—is much stronger, fueled by bigger and badder arrays of 
  technology. There still might only be a single seat at a single console, but 
  the computer under that console will reflect the size of the room.
  The systems are, in effect, all of the “other” functions aboard the ship rolled 
  into one. You know what I’m talking about; when a tech is in their systems, 
  they’re the one that yells things like “Captain! Ship approaching: pirates, 
  heavily armed!” while they sit and clack at a console. That’s the systems.
  
  113
  When you get a job aiming to haul cargo, legal or otherwise, you 
  can roll+size instead of +face. The larger the cargo hold, the more 
  profitable the haul.
  CARGO HOLD
  The cargo hold is where the crew can store things. It’s a big empty room 
  aboard the ship, often with rings and bolts and straps on the floor and walls, 
  so cargo can be strapped down. A crew doesn’t necessarily need a cargo 
  hold to transport goods, but a cargo hold makes it much easier, both for hav-
  ing a dedicated space to store things and for the raw cubic footage of the 
  room itself. If the cargo hold is destroyed, any goods within it are destroyed 
  as well; repairing the cargo hold does not bring the goods back. 
  Bigger cargo holds are always better. More space, stronger frame, easier 
  modes of attachments, the works. 
  Having a bigger cargo hold adds on additional profits to a haul, at a rate of 
  a +2 credits per size, per span (page 163). On top of that, a Captain can use 
  the cargo hold’s size in place of their own face stat for securing hauls. Even 
  when dealing with a crude and inept Captain, employers can recognize the 
  value of an enormous cargo hold, both for profits and for security.
  When it’s not filled with cargo, a cargo hold also serves as the central hub 
  for most crews. It’s a big empty space, which has all kinds of uses. Some 
  crews set out tables and eat dinner as a group; some use it for training in 
  firearms and weapons; still others lay out mats and sleep in the hold, when 
  they don’t have proper bunks.
  Despite not every ship having a cargo hold, it is often taken as ubiquitous 
  among crews; to not have a cargo hold is the exception among independent 
  freighters, rather than the rule.
  
  114
  When you get a job looking to ferry passengers, legal or otherwise, 
  you can roll+size instead of+face. The larger the bunks, the more 
  profitable the ferry.
  BUNKS
  Technically speaking, people can sleep anywhere on a ship; there are al-
  ways more nooks, crannies, alcoves, and hideaways to find somewhere to 
  curl up with a blanket. There’s no guarantee those places will be warm, dry, 
  or comfortable, but somebody could theoretically sleep there. Bunks solve 
  those issues, providing space specifically for individuals to sleep and recu-
  perate. 
  Having a bigger set of bunks adds on profits for ferries at a rate of +2 credits 
  per size, per span (page 166). The crew can take on more passengers, and 
  those passengers will pay better for wherever it is they’re going. A Captain 
  can use the size of their bunkroom in place of their face; passengers know 
  a good ship to buy passage on, even when the Captain might be less than 
  perfectly couth. 
  A bigger set of bunks doesn’t necessarily mean that there are literally more 
  beds, or that a ferry job brings on more passengers. It very well might, but it 
  could just as easily mean that the existing bunks are nicer, more spacious, 
  and have fun amenities: adjustable lighting, separate washrooms, extra fur-
  niture, that sort of thing. 
  Among independent crews, bunks are often taken as a kind of badge of sta-
  tus. If a crew can afford to actually have proper mattresses, pillows, and 
  sleeping space, it means that they aren’t spending every last credit on sup-
  plies and repairs—which means they’re doing reasonably well.
  
  115
  Shuttles can’t fly spans, but they can outrun or overtake some-
  thing and pull a stunt just like big ships, using the shuttle’s size. 
  Shuttles have hull equal to their size, and come with basic air and 
  gravity.
  SHUTTLE
  The shuttle is a smaller, independent ship that’s attached to the main body 
  of a ship. It’s got enough fuel for a half day or so, and can fly independently. 
  Shuttles can be used for combat, diplomacy, transport, escape, or anything 
  else the crew can think of. 
  Shuttles aren’t capable of reaching the speeds necessary to fly whole spans, 
  but they can still outrun or overtake something and pull stunts, for which 
  they use their own size in place of the engine’s or helm’s. These moves both 
  require someone piloting the shuttle, as normal. A bigger shuttle is tougher, 
  faster, and handles better; it still needs a dock or platform or claw-crane 
  somewhere on the main ship, but bigger is better.
  When a shuttle is destroyed, it can’t do anything useful in the slightest. The 
  crew can still bolt it on to the side of their ship to bring it to be repaired, but 
  it has no function otherwise. If the shuttle gets destroyed and the main ship 
  is nowhere near, that shuttle could very well be lost forever. 
  Among different crews, shuttles have all kinds of different functions. Some 
  of them are for hauling certain cargo, some are to ferry sensitive passen-
  gers, some are used for scouting, some are for combat flanking, and some 
  are there as a relic of some previous hulk the ship was made from. 
  This versatility, if used correctly, pays in spades. Clever crews know to eke 
  every ounce of utility they can out of their shuttles; out in the hulks, they 
  often need it, too.
  
  116
  At size+0, the turret has one light gun on it. For each additional 
  +1 size, the turret has one additional light gun and one additional 
  heavy gun on it. When you man a ship’s gun, you can get in a fight 
  using that gun. When you get a job wanting to fly escort or run a hit, 
  you can roll+size instead of +face.
  GUNS
  The guns are exactly what they sound like: big, loud, and highly dangerous. 
  While a ship’s hull might be able to shrug off heavy fire, even a heavily ar-
  mored ordinary person will be shredded by a ship’s gun. 
  The guns function a little differently than most other rooms; rather than have 
  specific moves, the guns instead gain new weapons as they increase in 
  size, all mounted on the same turret. The guns don’t literally have to all be 
  stuck on the exact same room, but they’re all connected to the same internal 
  system: if the guns room is dead, every gun goes down and can’t be used.
  Each gun can be fired by one crewmember; that crewmember can get in a 
  fight, just like normal, using the ship’s gun instead of whatever weapons 
  they might ordinarily have. On top of that, when the Captain goes looking to 
  fly an escort or run a hit, they can use the guns’ size in place of their face. 
  Size does, in fact, matter. 
  Remember that each gun counts as its own object, and thus can be wrecked 
  and need repairs; the room itself can be intact, but all guns destroyed. This 
  would be an unusual situation for sure, but might happen—especially if the 
  crew gets greedy about repairs.
  
  117
  At size+0, the armory has one set of 1-armor and three sidearms. 
  For each additional +1 size, the armory gets three sidearms, two 
  serious guns, a big fuck-off gun, two sets of 1-armor, and a single 
  set of 2-armor. When you get a job intending to fly escort or run a 
  hit, you can roll+size instead of +face.
  ARMORY
  The armory, like the guns, is more about what the room contains, rather than 
  what the room itself does. Most independent crews only have what weap-
  ons they can carry, and rarely anything bigger than a shotgun. The armory 
  changes that; a tiny armory is little more than a locker with a few pistols, but 
  a larger one has full body armor, heavy firepower, and enough weapons and 
  ammo to supply the crew twice over. 
  Generally, only the Captain and the ship’s bruiser will have keys to the ar-
  mory; this isn’t always the case, but most crews aren’t fond of leaving all of 
  their weapons and armor available to just anyone that comes onto the ship. 
  If a runner or somebody wants to pry their way into the armory, you should 
  probably let them, but make them roll for it. 
  Just like the ship’s guns, a Captain can flex the size and power of their ar-
  mory when they’re looking for a job where that’s relevant. As MC, you should 
  always respect this rule, but you can definitely have some fun with it. Who 
  they get the job from matters: Authority clients will likely respect a huge 
  batch of guns, but merchant or criminal clients might be more grudging 
  about it. In some cases, it’s possible that the size-as-face could almost be 
  taken as a threat: “Give us this job, or else.”
  
  118
  LIGHT GUNS: (cf. Smoker, Guns)
  HEAVY GUNS: (cf. Smoker, Guns)
  • lmg, 5-harm close/far autofire
  • grenade launcher, 4-harm far area reload
  • rpg, 6-harm extreme reload
  • missile launcher, 7-harm extreme slow reload
  • .70 caliber mg, 6-harm close/far hellfire
  • torpedo launcher, 9-harm far/extreme reload
  • plasma cannon, 7-harm far/extreme hellfire messy hot
  • coilgun, 7-harm far/extreme
  • emp, e-harm far/extreme
  SIDEARMS: (cf. Bruiser, Armory)
  • pistol, 2-harm close
  • magnum, 3-harm close loud
  • sawn-off, 3-harm close messy reload
  • lots of knives, 2-harm hand infinite
  • crowbar, 2-harm hand messy
  • stunner, s-harm close reload no-air
  SERIOUS GUNS: (cf. Bruiser, Armory)
  • combat rifle, 3-harm close/far autofire
  • shotgun, 3-harm close messy
  • boarding axe, 3-harm close messy
  • crossbow, 2-harm close no-air
  BIG FUCK-OFF GUNS: (cf. Bruiser, Armory)
  • sniper’s rifle, 4-harm far loud
  • grenade launcher, 4-harm far area messy no-air
  • flamethrower, 4-harm close area messy no-air refill
  • lmg, 5-harm close/far autofire loud
  
  119
  BOARDING
  At size+0, the ship’s hulls must be touching to board; at size+1, you 
  can board at close range; at size+2, you can board at far range. At 
  size+3, you can board at extreme range.
  When you board a ship, pick a room and roll+size. On a 10+, your 
  dock makes it to that room and makes an entrance, no worries. On 
  a 7-9, either it doesn’t go to the room you want, or you stall and the 
  other crew can prepare for you. On a miss, prepare for the worst.
  DOCK
  The boarding dock is the long passageway that bursts out from the crew’s 
  ship, attaches onto another ship, and then allows the crews from either ship 
  to cross onto the other one. Like the shuttle, it can be used for a variety of 
  different purposes, but it’s most commonly used to allow boarders from one 
  ship to storm onto another.
  The boarding dock’s size has two purposes: the first is its reach. A tiny 
  (size+0) boarding dock is really just a doorway; to use it, the two ships have 
  to be rubbing hulls. As the boarding dock increases in size, it can reach fur-
  ther, with a large (size+3) boarding dock able to reach extreme range. 
  It’s worth noting that, like pretty much all tech, how exactly the boarding 
  dock operates shouldn’t be a cause of too much concern. At shorter ranges 
  it’s easy to be the typical metal-jetway type thing, but as it gets longer it 
  could be almost anything: a small pod that fires outward, a long zipline the 
  crew zooms along, some kind of short-range teleporter, whatever. The exact 
  fictional details can be a lot of fun to work out, but don’t stress the realism. 
  The second use for a boarding dock’s size is its efficacy in boarding ships; a 
  big high-powered boarding dock will be accurate and fast, while a cheaper 
  smaller one will be significantly less effective. In a lot of ways, the dock can 
  be thought of like a ship’s gun, but rather than simply spitting hot lead, the 
  dock punches a hole and passageway through the enemy ship.
  
  120
  Every crew will eventually get hurt. It might take some time, but it will always 
  happen eventually. When it does, the infirmary is the crew’s friend. It’s a big 
  room full of medical supplies: painkillers, antibiotics, gauze, casts, surgical 
  tools, prosthetics, prescription drugs, and more. It’s also got at least one 
  medical bed, and probably more, depending on the size. 
  The mechanical twist here is that a 7-9 can be pretty flexible in its penalties: 
  the simplest and most direct route is to just knock the 2-harm healed down 
  to 1-harm, but that’s not always the case. Maybe the healed crewmember 
  needs a blood transfusion, or a graft of materials hard to find, or something 
  else entirely. 
  The infirmary doesn’t track individual medical supplies. If the supplies are 
  really that limited, it’s not a proper infirmary, it’s just a bunch of medpacks 
  that’ve been stuck together in a big room. That said, as the infirmary takes 
  damage, it’s pretty easy to express that as supplies being exhausted, rather 
  than strict damage—especially on the room move. Failing to heal somebody 
  might just that a crewmember stabbed with them the first needle they saw, 
  and then frantically opened every bottle in the room. Not like, physical dam-
  age to the room’s objects themselves, but harmful nonetheless.
  Among many crews, infirmaries are seen as the end-goal. Most ships car-
  ry a few medpacks, but to have enough supplies and equipment to have a 
  proper room dedicated to healing is, perhaps not a luxury, but certainly a 
  highly-coveted commodity. It’s a sign of rank, really, to be able to afford to 
  keep all of your crewmembers in healthy shape. It shouldn’t be, not in a just 
  system, but it is.
  When you heal someone, roll+size. On a 10+, they heal 2-harm; on a 
  7-9, they heal 2-harm, but you, they, or the room must take 1-harm 
  (ap). On a miss, they heal nothing, and you must split 3-harm be-
  tween you, them, and the infirmary.
  INFIRMARY
  
  121
  Bolt-holes are the criminal’s alternative to cargo holds or bunkrooms. They’re 
  smaller, typically, but they’re also hidden out of the way, where prying eyes 
  are less likely to find them. Lockers hidden behind false walls, bunks tucked 
  under floor plates, safes buried in piping, rooms that don’t appear on ship 
  blueprints, wherever a spare few feet can be found.
  Generally speaking, nobody can find a bolt-hole unless they know it’s there. 
  Sure, a squad of Authority investigators equipped with the latest tech could 
  probably scour a ship and find one, but ordinary troopers, criminals, or mer-
  chants’ bodyguards have no chance.
  The bolt-hole move is pretty straightforward: a crewmember rolls to hide 
  something. The better their roll, the fewer people know about whatever’s 
  hidden there. A good roll means nobody knows it’s there, a bad roll means 
  everyone knows it’s there. Most bolt-holes aren’t tightly secured, as big ugly 
  locks tend to draw attention—but it does make them easy to bust open.
  The size of the bolt-holes here refers less to the literal size of the hidden 
  compartments as much as it does how common they are on a ship: roll-
  ing+size is more about how quickly a crewmember can get to one of these 
  hidden caches than it is how big or spacious they actually are.
  On top of that, a Captain can use their bolt-holes in place of their face stat 
  to secure fetch deals. Fetches demand that cargo can be carried—usually 
  while being pursued—and a Captain being able to attest to the efficacy of 
  their smuggler’s caches is highly valuable.
  When you hide something (or someone) for later, roll+size. On a 
  10+, you hide it, it’s good, nobody will find it unless you want them 
  to. On a 7-9, you hide it, but one person of your choosing and one 
  of the MC’s choosing knows it’s hidden there. On a miss, everyone 
  knows it’s there, and someone wants it.
  When you get a job attempting to run a fetch, you can roll+size 
  instead of +face.
  BOLT-HOLES
  
  122
  When you fly a span between two planets, roll. For every span’s 
  worth of fuel and supplies you burn, add +1 to the roll; you can do 
  this up to a maximum of +3. On a 10+, choose one:
  • every crew member chooses one chain to loosen
  • every crew member heats or cools a chain
  • you stumble on an abandoned hulk
  • you come across a station
  On a 7-9, choose two (which can repeat):
  • you encounter an uncertain ship or an occupied hulk
  • every crew member chooses one chain to tighten
  • you encounter a spaceborne hazard or danger
  On a miss, choose two (which cannot repeat):
  • the Authority takes an interest in you
  • you encounter a hostile ship
  • the ship suffers 4-harm (ap), dealt to rooms of the MC’s choice
  FLY A SPAN
  This is not strictly a room move, but is lumped here because it’s still a move 
  that requires a ship. To fly a span, the ship pretty much needs to have an 
  intact helm, engine, and systems. Everything else is secondary.
  Because it takes at least one span’s worth of fuel and supplies to fly a span, 
  this move automatically gets +1 forward to the roll. If a crew’s got extra re-
  sources to burn, they can do so to get smoother sailing, but it’s costly.
  Like every other move, flying a span is a gamble: the crew can spend more 
  upfront for better chances, or chance it with lower rolls and risk worse con-
  sequences.
  For you, the MC, flying a span also doubles as a “random encounter” move: 
  it means that very rarely will nothing happen over the course of a span. The 
  crew decides exactly what kind of nastiness they want to deal with, and all 
  you have to do is give it to them.
  
  BOOK
  PLAY-
  MOVES
  
  124
  BRUISER
  MOVES
  The bruiser gets to pick three from this list:
  Tough as nails. You get +1 spine (max+3).
  Not on my turf. When you take or deal harm to or from a person and 
  are on or around the ship, take -1 harm and deal +1 harm ongoing.
  “Around the ship” means, like, doing a quick spacewalk for repairs, or stand-
  ing on the gangplank at a dock, or zipping on wire back to the ship from a 
  scavenge. Not aboard another ship, lost somewhere the streets of a hub, or 
  flying somewhere specific on the shuttle.
  Gloves come off. When you threaten someone, roll+spine instead 
  of +face.
  You were saying? When you’re present when the Captain gets a 
  job, give them +1 on the roll. When the Captain rolls to get paid, you 
  know how and when each thing that goes wrong will go wrong. If 
  you’re the Captain, this move applies to yourself.
  This is the “bodyguard” move. It lets them sit ominously behind the Captain 
  at meetings, and then later advise them on how the employer’s going to try 
  to shaft the crew. Don’t stiff the bruiser on this info; it’s up to that bruiser 
  how much they share, but make sure they know everything.
  Kneecapper. When you capture someone and interrogate them for 
  information, you gain +1 hold for contacts.
  This is the “interrogator” move. If the crew’s OK with the bruiser beating the 
  snot out of someone for info, the bruiser gets extra contacts. There might 
  be other info the captive reveals—that’s fine. The bruiser still gets extra 
  contacts.
  Black ops. All of your weapons lose loud or messy if they have 
  them, and gain no-air. This applies to your armory weapons, too. 
  Your armory also gains three sets of pullover space suits.
  Exactly how bad having loud and messy is can be up for debate, depending.
  
  125
  Otherwise, though, this lets the crew as a whole do some sweet jump-off-
  your-ship-and-land-on-theirs maneuvers, as an alternative to a boarding 
  dock. Remember that a gun that doesn’t have no-air can’t fire in space, nor-
  mally, as guns need air to work.
  Comrades in arms. When you fight shoulder-to-shoulder with an-
  other crew member, you both take +1 armor ongoing. Afterwards, 
  loosen your chain with them, or you both heat your chain (your 
  call).
  This is the bruiser’s main social (“social”) move. It’s how they can easily 
  loosen their chains if they need to, and how they can help people in a fight 
  most easily. It also leads to scenarios where the bruiser will have a higher 
  heat with those they fight alongside: once you’ve seen combat together, a 
  bond is formed that can’t be broken.
  Bloodbath. When you get in a fight with or threaten one of your 
  fellow crew members, you can roll+heat instead of +spine or +face.
  Sometimes, raw passion can be more effective that spleen or force of per-
  sonality. This is the move for that.
  The bruiser’s dedicated room is the armory, filled with guns and armor. It’s a 
  small (size+1) room, so it comes with about a half-dozen sidearms, two seri-
  ous guns, a big fuck-off gun, one set of 2-armor, and three sets of 1-armor. 
  If there’s keys, only the bruiser and Captain have keys. Bear in mind that all 
  of this is on top of what bruisers start with in terms of gear, so they get a lot 
  of shit in total.
  And here’s what bruiser Captains get:
  Mess with them, mess with me. At the start of a job, roll+gut. On 
  a 10+, hold 3. On a 7-9, hold 2. At any point, if someone on your 
  crew’s in trouble (or is about to be), spend your hold and you are 
  there, ready to go. On a miss, you still hold 1, but your crew—not 
  you—gets to decide when and where it is you show up.
  This move has an explicit function and implicit bonus. The explicit function is 
  simple: when the crew’s in trouble, the bruiser can show up and save them, 
  no where they are or what they’re doing. Bruiser Captains are protective, 
  and so they protect the crew. The implicit bonus is insurance for the crew, 
  essentially. When crewmembers opt to tempt fate, they can know their Cap-
  tain will have their back if push comes to shove.
  
  126
  ENVOY
  MOVES
  The envoy grabs two off this list:
  Boundless grace. You get +1 face (max+3).
  Social butterfly. At the start of a job, roll+face. On a 10+, hold 3; on 
  a 7-9, hold 2; on a miss, hold 1 anyway. When one of your chains 
  would tighten, you can spend your hold, 1 for 1, to keep at as-is 
  instead.
  It’s this move that lets the envoy really go to work on other crewmembers. 
  It means that if a crewmember tries to fast-talk the envoy into doing some-
  thing, the envoy can ignore the consequences. It also means that the envoy 
  can threaten another crewmember with more impunity, as the envoy can 
  stop that crewmember from tightening their chains.
  False surrender. When you get in a fight with people using a weap-
  on small enough to fit in one hand, roll+face instead of +spine. Any 
  harm you deal like this counts as armor piercing (ap).
  Diplomatic immunity. If you’re talking with someone and they start 
  a fight (and it really does need to be them that starts it, it can’t just 
  be someone that isn’t you), take +2 armor ongoing until the fight 
  ends.
  Insurance for envoys during negotiations. It also means it’s much harder for 
  bad guys to kill the messenger if the messenger is the envoy.
  Peacemaker. When you go to two people that have a strained or 
  choking chain (which could include you) and make peace between 
  them, roll+face. On a 10+, they both heat their chain and loosen 
  their chain. On a 7-9, they still loosen their chain, but cool it in-
  stead. On a miss, they heat and tighten their chain, and each of 
  their chains with you tighten, too.
  This is the bread-and-butter social move for the envoy: it’s the one that 
  means that the envoy can smooth over almost any difficulties inside a crew. 
  Not every time and not always without cost, but usually close enough.
  
  127
  Power beyond. When you threaten someone, you can do it with 
  some form of power that isn’t yours, but you could bring to bear—
  like the Authority. If your hand is forced, you can retreat to summon 
  that power: roll+face. On a 10+, they help you, it’s good. On a 7-9, 
  they’ll help you, but there’s a cost. On a miss, they won’t help, and 
  are real upset.
  Players get squirrely about this one; be generous. The risk is built in: if the 
  envoy really wants to threaten somebody with a powerful criminal syndi-
  cate, let them—it just means that when the envoy eventually misses the 
  roll, they’re mega-boned. It also means that on a 7-9, the cost associated 
  will be higher; don’t skimp.
  Isolation therapy. When you threaten a crewmember, you can 
  threaten them with tightening one of their chains all the way to 
  choking; if they don’t do what you want, you do it.
  This is the flipside of power beyond; that one’s big and flashy and NPC-cen-
  tric, this is tight and personal and PC-centric. Note that this can be any chain 
  of that crewmember’s, not just one shared with the envoy. 
  The human element. When you fast-talk or get a read on another 
  crew member, you can roll+heat instead of a +face or +gut.
  Envoys are people’s people; for the people they care about, doubly so.
  Sanctioned and legitimate. Whenever you deal with the Authority 
  in a legitimate capacity, take +1 ongoing.
  “Legitimate” counts as basically anything that isn’t actively shooting at 
  them, hiding cargo from them, or smooth-talking your way past them.
  The envoy add on a small (size+1) shuttle as their dedicated room. Shuttles 
  are mostly as useful as the crew makes them, since they’re not strictly all 
  that powerful, but envoys are clever, usually. Usually.
  And the envoy Captain move:
  Expert negotiator. When you get paid, you always choose one ex-
  tra option.
  In short, envoy Captains always have things go the smoothest. This is the 
  only way to ensure that they can get all three options on get paid, and it 
  means that even when the Captain whiffs the roll, they’re not completely 
  screwed. It’s a very powerful move, not to be under-estimated.
  
  128
  GREASER
  MOVES
  First and foremost, the greaser gets machinist:
  Machinist. When you repair something, you can repair a ship’s room 
  like any other object. Spend 1-credit in scrap, then roll+brain. On a 
  7-9, you repair 1 point of harm; on a 10+, you repair 1 point of harm 
  and get your 1-credit in scrap back, too. On a miss, the room suffers 
  1-harm (ap) and your scrap is blown. If you repair a room that was 
  destroyed, change its drawing and personality accordingly.
  Basically, the greaser spends a scrap, and then can fix rooms. This move is 
  real good; it means that you can repair your ship on the fly, sometimes for 
  free. It’s not without risk, obviously, but it gives the ship a level of indepen-
  dence and reliability no other can compete with.
  On top of machinist, the greaser chooses two more:
  Well-learned. You get +1 brain (max+3).
  Crazy Ivan. You can pull a stunt from the engine, using the engine’s 
  size in place of the helm’s, just like it was made from the helm. 
  This works exactly like it sounds: rather than use the helm size, use the en-
  gine size; rather than make the move from the helm, make it from the engine.
  Idiot-proofing. At the beginning of a job, roll+brain. On a 10+, hold 3. 
  On a 7-9, hold 2. Anytime somebody on the ship would fuck around 
  with anything of yours, you can spend your hold, 1 for 1, to imme-
  diately inflict 3-harm. If you choose, you can make them aware of 
  this beforehand. On a miss, hold 1 anyway, but when you use your 
  hold, the thing they were going for breaks anyway.
  The greaser’s sole combat move, really. It works against NPCs and crew-
  members alike, and it can go anywhere. Someone starts disassembling the 
  engine? Idiot-proof. Someone uses the greaser’s pistol against them? Idi-
  ot-proof. Someone steals the greaser’s lunch? Idiot-proof.
  
  129
  Expert engineering. When you make an engine move or any move 
  that requires you to be in the engine room, add your brain to the 
  roll.
  Navicom control frequency. You can make engine moves anywhere 
  on or around the ship. This applies to any of your moves that re-
  quire you to be in the engine room, too.
  Both of these mainly apply to outrun or overtake something, but they apply 
  to crazy Ivan, too.
  System overclock. When you pump power from the engine to an-
  other room, roll+brain. On a 10+, that room counts as having +1 size 
  ongoing. On a 7-9, that room counts as having +1 size ongoing, but 
  afterwards either you or that room take 1-harm (ap). On a miss, you 
  and the room both take 1-harm (ap) and gain no benefit.
  Since crew can’t help on room moves, this is essentially the only way to get 
  a temporary boost on a room move that they really need to pull. It’s a high-
  risk move, but when it goes off, it goes off big. Since this move requires the 
  greaser to be in the engine room, navicom control frequency applies.
  Just forgot a repair. When one of your chains would tighten, you 
  can instead choose to retreat to the engine room for a long while. 
  While you’re there, you can’t talk to anybody and nobody can talk 
  to you.
  In some ways, the greaser belongs more to ship than they do the crew, 
  more at home among whirring machines than flesh-and-blood people. If the 
  greaser opts to embrace this element, this move is their insurance, allowing 
  them to retreat from the crew and lock themselves in the engine room when 
  things go awry. 
  A friend in need. When a crew member comes to you to have some-
  thing of theirs repaired, you can roll+heat instead of +brain. Either 
  way, after you repair it, loosen your chain with them, or you both 
  heat your chain (your call).
  This is the greaser’s sole social move. It lets them use whatever connec-
  tions they’ve made to repair other people’s things, firstly, but it also lets 
  them make new allies through items. It means that the people who come to 
  the greaser for help are more likely to become friends with them.
  
  130
  For their dedicated room, the greaser has two benefits: they add +1 hull to 
  the ship, and they add +1 size to the engine. Neither of these are particularly 
  exciting, but they are both highly reliable and highly useful—just like the 
  greaser, in many ways. It also means that the engine is their responsibility 
  to draw and update, which is fun.
  And finally, greasers get their Captain move:
  Durable frameworks. Each room in the ship counts as 1 size larger 
  for the purpose of determining harm. A room with size+2, for exam-
  ple, could take 4-harm (rather than 3-harm) before being destroyed 
  entirely.
  That math looks wrong, I know, but remember that a size+0 room still needs 
  to take 1-harm to be destroyed; with this move added on, it would need 
  2-harm to be destroyed. Basically, this move gives every room an extra 
  point of health to use. It’s a very passive effect, but very good for long jobs 
  in between stations and hubs. A greaser Captain will ensure the ship is al-
  ways working, or at least better than it would under any other Captain.
  
  131
  JOCKEY
  MOVES
  The jockey gets to choose three of these:
  Daring-do. You get +1 gut (max+3).
  Keen-eyed. When you get a read, you always ask one extra ques-
  tion, and take +2 when you act on the MC’s answers.
  Dogfighter. When someone gets in a fight against another ship and 
  you’re at the helm, on a 7-9, you decide where the enemy targets, 
  instead of the MC.
  Remember: when someone gets in a fight from a ship and the shooter rolls a 
  7-9, they either get to pick where they hit on the enemy ship and you choose 
  where the enemy hits their ship, or they get to pick where the enemy hits 
  them but you decide where they hit hit them. Tit-for-tat. With this move, 
  the gunner can have their cake and eat it, too: they can decide where they 
  target the enemy, and the jockey decides where the enemy hits their ship.
  Getaway driver. At the start of a job, roll+gut. On a 10+, hold 2. On a 
  7-9, hold 1. At any point during the job while you’re on the ship, you 
  can spend your hold, 1 for 1, to have the ship be where it needs to 
  be, ready to go. On a miss, hold 1 anyway, but when you get there, 
  you’re caught, stuck where you arrived.
  This move is the jockey’s get-out-of-jail-free ticket for the crew. So long as 
  they’re on the ship, the jockey can have the ship where it needs to be, no 
  matter where it might be otherwise. Whatever trouble the crew gets into, 
  the jockey can be there to bail them out. “Stuck where you arrived” is a free 
  license for you to wreak whatever havoc your heart desires.
  Loop-the-loop. When you pull a stunt, you can add your gut to the 
  roll. When the ship’s in combat, you can pull a stunt to add your gut 
  to the ship’s hull, ongoing. 
  The “ongoing” here means that the jockey can’t really be doing anything 
  other than actively using this move. If they pull a different stunt or have to 
  run down to engine or something, that ongoing ends.
  
  132
  Autonav relay. You can fly the ship and make helm moves from 
  anywhere on or around the ship. This includes moves that require 
  you to be at the helm.
  This is just like the greaser’s navicom control frequency. It applies to pull a 
  stunt, dogfighter, and loop-the-loop.
  Busy flying, don’t bother me. When one of your chains would tight-
  en, you can instead choose to retreat to the helm for a long while. 
  While you’re there, you can’t talk to anybody and nobody can talk 
  to you.
  Again, there’s an analogue to the greaser; the jockey can also choose to 
  withdraw and hide out in the helm, safe in their own little world.
  Old reliable. The helm cannot be shut down by e-harm, or anything 
  similar. If the helm is destroyed, successfully making a patch for it 
  restores a single point of harm.
  The helm is real tough, and can be fixed in dire straits, no matter what. 
  When there’s a jockey aboard, they add +1 size to the helm as their dedi-
  cated room. On top of that, they get one of three options: a small (size+1) 
  cargo hold, a small (size+1) set of bunks, or +1 hull. Basically, jockeys get to 
  specialize, however they choose.
  Jockey Captains get this move:
  Trader’s routes. When you travel a span, you choose +1 option on a 
  10+ and choose -1 option on a miss.
  When the Captain is a jockey, flying spans is always easier. Remember that 
  it’s extra good options and fewer bad options, but it’s still two choices on 
  a 7-9.
  
  133
  JUNKER
  MOVES
  First, the junker has their junker’s kit, which comes with three functions:
  When you build a common piece of gear from scrap, name the gear 
  and spend up to 1-credit in scrap, then roll+junk. On a 10+, you cre-
  ate the gear. On a 7-9, you make it, but it’s broken right now and 
  needs to be repaired. On a miss, you blow your scrap and get noth-
  ing. 
  “Common gear” refers to pretty much any non-ship’s-gun weapon, basic 
  armor, or a pullover space suit. It doesn’t include medpacks or repair kits.
  When you beef up a room, spend up to 3-credit in scrap, then 
  roll+scrap spent. On a 10+, that room counts as having +1 size and 
  ongoing until it next takes harm. On a 7-9, it counts as one size 
  larger, but when it next takes harm, it takes +1 harm. On a miss, you 
  blow your scrap and get nothing.
  Essentially, a room will work better until anything goes wrong for it. If the 
  junker messes up, it will be even worse when it breaks down.
  When you make a repair kit from spare parts, spend up to 3-credit 
  in scrap, then roll+junk. On a 10+, you get that repair kit, nice and 
  shiny. On a 7-9, you get a repair kit, yeah, but something of yours 
  breaks, and must be repaired. On a miss, you blow your scrap and 
  get nothing.  
  This works pretty much the same as the first function, only this one’s spe-
  cifically for repair kits. It’s fun when the junker kit breaks making a repair kit.
  On top of their kit, the junker also gets this move:
  Strip, melt, grind, smelt. When you take a piece of equipment and 
  break it down for parts, roll+junk. On a 10+, you get its worth in 
  scrap, easy-peasy. On a 7-9, you get its worth in scrap, minus 1 
  (unless it was only worth 1-credit, then it’s still worth only 1-credit). 
  On a miss, something goes awry and it’s just a pile of truly worth-
  less trash.
  
  134
  On its face, this isn’t very helpful, but: junkers burn through scrap more or 
  less constantly. Being able to turn all the crap you normally leave behind—
  spare weapons, bits and bobs, that sort of stuff—into scrap is suddenly 
  invaluable. The junker, if they’re good, will usually be picking through inter-
  action they can for extra goodies.
  After the kit and that move, the junker chooses one of these:
  Wrecker’s arts. You get +1 junk (max+3).
  Real scrappy. When you get in a fight with a weapon you made 
  yourself, roll+junk instead of +spine. If somebody else gets in a 
  fight with a weapon you made and it does its job, loosen your chain 
  or you both heat your chain (your call).
  This is the main combat and social move for the junker. It makes sure they 
  can be of at least some use in a fight, and also means that the junker will 
  likely be buddy-buddy with crewmembers that can protect them.
  Go fish. When you scrape a hulk, you can name something you 
  need: something that you could find on the hulk, something spe-
  cific and useful and expensive. On a 10+ on the roll, you find the 
  thing instead of whatever you would’ve normally found; on a 7-9, 
  you still find it, but it’s got strings attached, as normal. On a miss, 
  something even worse is going to be on that hulk.
  Ordinarily, it’s your call—the MC’s call—on what exactly hulks hold within 
  them. This move changes that. It adds another layer of risk, as the conse-
  quences get a bit more dire, but it ensures that a good junker can always 
  find exactly what they need on a hulk.
  Scrapyard buddies. When you scrape a hulk, on a 10+, you gain 1 
  hold for contacts. On a 7-9, you can opt for whatever you normally 
  find or you can gain 1 hold for contacts, but not both. On a miss, you 
  get no extra benefit.
  Junkers have friends all over; if they’ve got useful scrap, those friends will 
  be more plentiful.
  It always works, until it doesn’t. When something of yours would 
  break, you can instead choose to have someone else’s thing break 
  instead. When someone else’s thing breaks, you can choose to 
  have something of yours break instead.
  
  135
  For friendly junkers, this lets them take it on the chin for a pal. For dickish 
  junkers, this lets them screw over basically everyone on the crew.
  Mass production. When you repair something, you can spend 
  1-credit in scrap to automatically count as having rolled a 10+.
  Basically, they can do the same thing anyone can do in a station or outpost, 
  but on the fly.
  The junker doesn’t have an explicit dedicated room. Instead they add +1 size 
  to two rooms of their choice, up to a maximum of size+2. Which rooms the 
  junker chooses is up to them; the crew may advise them, of course, but it’s 
  the junker’s final call.
  When the Captain is the junker, they also get this move:
  Ripper job. When you come across an abandoned hulk with an in-
  tact room (typically when you remove the crew of a ship without 
  destroying it) that you also have on your ship, you can add that 
  room’s mass to yours. Spend 5-credit in scrap and roll+junk. On a 
  10+, you strip it for useful parts, and your room gains +1 size. On a 
  7-9, you strip it for parts and your room gains +1 size, but your room 
  is destroyed in the process. On a miss, your room is completely 
  destroyed and must be repaired for no benefit.
  Regardless of outcome, when you strip a room like this, no more 
  rooms from that hulk can be stripped.
  In short, if there’s a hulk that has an intact room aboard, the Captain can 
  make a roll and spend some scrap to upgrade a room’s size by one. This is 
  one of the most powerful Captain moves in the entire game, as the crew can 
  upgrade their ship on the fly extremely cheaply. That said, it’s high-risk: a 
  7-9 destroys the to-be-upgraded room, which can be disastrous when in the 
  midst of a span. Likewise, the initial cost is high: 5-credit in scrap can be a 
  lot for crews to just keep on hand, especially ones starting out. On top of all 
  that, a botched roll will entirely destroy the crew’s own room for no benefit.
  This move is high-cost and high-risk, but can also reap some of the greatest 
  benefits. It’s up to you exactly how often a hulk will have an intact room 
  aboard, but be generous; making the junker the Captain can be a risky move 
  (as the junker tends to be low on face, spine, and gut, all quite useful for 
  Captains), so be sure to reward them at least sometimes.
  
  136
  RUNNER
  MOVES
  The runner choose three of these moves:
  Cold-blooded. You get +1 gut (max+3).
  Cut and run. Name your escape route and roll+gut. On a 10+, you’re 
  gone. On a 7-9, you’re gone, but something you want or need 
  breaks, and must be repaired. On a miss, you’re caught, half-in and 
  half-out.
  Runners run; it’s just what they do. “Caught, half-in and half-out” means you 
  get to do basically whatever you want to the runner as consequence.
  Bob and weave, duck and cover. When you hold firm, roll+gut in-
  stead of +spine.
  Ask questions later. When you’re in a conversation overhung by 
  the threat of violence, roll+gut. On a 10+, hold 2. On a 7-9, hold 1. 
  If the moment arises and you need to waste somebody, you can 
  spend your hold, 1 for 1, to immediately inflict harm. On a miss, your 
  opponent holds 1 against you.
  This is the “shoot first” move. It’s up to you and the runner what constitutes 
  a conversation overhung by threat of violence, but it probably involves two 
  parties in a back alley or shady dock, some casual insinuations towards 
  physical harm, and a possible reaching for weapons. However it goes down, 
  the runner gets to shoot first (unless they hard-miss the roll, obviously).
  Born in the gutter. When you deal with the Authority in an illegiti-
  mate capacity, take +1 ongoing.
  “An illegitimate capacity” entails lying, smuggling, mocking, fighting, that 
  kind of thing.
  Tucked away for later. When somebody needs something badly, 
  the kind of thing you could fit in a crate or fist or pocket, roll+gut. On 
  a 10+, you’ve got it, right here and right now, good to go. On a 7-9, 
  
  137
  you’ve got it, but it’s only good for now and will run out or break 
  soon. On a miss, you don’t have what’s needed, and actually have 
  something bad.
  The key distinction here is the size. The runner can’t just whip out a whole 
  shuttle or something, it’s gotta be something that they could feasibly have 
  hidden earlier. A long gun or hefty repair kit is generally the upper limit. This 
  move is pretty darn good, so don’t feel bad about punishing misses harshly.
  Black-hearted. When you call for help, the other person always 
  suffers the consequences, regardless of your chain.
  If the runner wants to be a churlish prick, they absolutely can be. Gets them 
  out clean, right?
  Notch in the armor. When you get in a fight or act fast against an-
  other crew member, you can roll+heat instead of +spine or +gut.
  Runners are dicks; they know everyone’s weak spots.
  Turning tables, turning cloaks. When a crewmember comes to you 
  and asks for your help in doing something illegal, roll with +1 ongo-
  ing until it’s done. Afterwards, either loosen your chain with them, 
  or you each cool your chain (your call).
  This is the runner’s major social move; the key component here is that an-
  other crewmember has to come to the runner—the runner can’t go to them. 
  It’s also worth noting that it cools the chain, rather than heating: anyone 
  who spends a lot of time around a runner in their natural habitat should be 
  feeling at least a little bit nervous.
  On top of these, the runner also adds a small (size+1) set of bolt-holes as 
  their dedicated room. Crime always demands stealth, and so being able to 
  have some quick and easy hideaways is always helpful.
  Runner Captains also get this move:
  Underworld connections. If you take an illegal job (whether it starts 
  that way or you just reach the point of no return), you immediately 
  gain an extra 2 hold for contacts, and get +1 forward on all rolls you 
  make for the move.
  Basically, this means that, assuming the runner’s Captain, illegal jobs al-
  ways get a leg up on their legal counterparts. Runners have friends in the 
  underworld everywhere; this lets them make use of them.
  
  138
  SAWBONES
  MOVES
  To start, the sawbones gets this move:
  Bound in blood. Whenever you heal a crewmember for any amount 
  of harm, they heat their chain with you. If they were unconscious 
  or worse, they also loosen their chain with you.
  This the sawbones social move, and the sawbones always gets it. If it’s a 
  friend being healed, it reinforces that bond; if it’s a rival, it makes it worse. 
  That said, everyone recognizes that saving someone on death’s door takes 
  a level of genuine trust, one that is best taken into account.
  Then, they choose two off of this list:
  Non-combatant. When you’re in a fight and healing people instead 
  of fighting, you get +1 armor.
  If, at some point, the sawbones opts to start shooting, they don’t get +1 
  armor. When they go back to healing, that armor returns. No sweat.
  “Natural” remedies. When you scrape a hulk, the stuff you find can 
  be 2 medpacks instead of whatever else it would be.
  If whatever that thing should’ve been had strings attached, so too do the 
  medpacks.
  Red to red, white to white. When someone is hurt and you try to 
  patch them up as best you can without any gear, roll+brain. On a 
  10+, they immediately heal 1-harm and take +1 forward. On a 7-9, 
  they heal 1 harm, but something of yours or theirs (your call) 
  breaks, and must be repaired. On a miss, they immediately suffer 1 
  harm and take -1 forward.
  The quandary here is whether the sawbones chooses to burn through their 
  own meager equipment, or if they’d rather make use of their patient’s.
  Practical surgery. When you get in a fight with a hand- or inti-
  mate-ranged weapon, roll+brain instead of +spine. 
  
  139
  Life debt. If you save an NPC on the verge of death, you get +1 hold 
  for contacts.
  This is the sawbones’s main NPC move. It lets them get all kinds of friends 
  in high places, and it encourages them to save NPCs, rather than murder 
  them—which can make for juicy roleplay.
  Unflinching eye. When someone is under your care, you can ana-
  lyze something with your patient as the thing. 
  “Under your care” means the sawbones is healing them, or trying to. 
  Insurance policy. At the beginning of a job, roll+spine. On a 10+, 
  hold 3; on a 7-9, hold 2; on a miss, hold 1 anyway. When someone is 
  under your care, spend 1 hold to  plant an insurance policy on them. 
  At any time, you can activate the insurance policy to instantly deal 
  3-harm (ap). At your option, your patient knows it’s there before it 
  goes off.
  Again, “under your care” means anytime the sawbones is healing someone. 
  If things get real snarly, this is the sawbones’s solution: sometimes you just 
  gotta frag a fucker.
  The sawbones’s dedicated room is a small (size+1) infirmary. It’s filled with 
  whatever tools, medicine, drugs, equipment, and other crap that’s neces-
  sary for healing, custom-tooled to fit the sawbones as they see fit.
  When the sawbones assumes the mantle of Captain, they also get this move:
  Guardian angel. At the start of a job, roll+brain: on a 7-9, hold 2; on a 
  10+, hold 2 and take +1 ongoing when you treat someone at 3-harm 
  or more. On a miss, hold 1 anyway. During the job, when someone 
  takes 5-harm and would die but instead chooses to live, you can 
  spend your hold, 1 for 1, to revive them to 4-harm instead, with no 
  further consequences.
  Normally, when a crewmember would die, they can choose to not die and 
  instead suffer a whole boatload of bad consequences of some variety. In 
  this case, the Captain can step in and prevent that from happening. The ex-
  act mechanics of this are up to the sawbones: maybe it’s life-saving drugs, 
  maybe it’s some kind of auto-revival unit, maybe it’s just pure dumb luck.
  
  140
  SMOKER
  MOVES
  From the start, the smoker gets their kit, which does this:
  When you improve a gun by removing or adding tags, spend 1-cred-
  it in scrap, then roll+junk. On a 10+, add or remove one tag of your 
  choice. On a 7-9, if you remove a tag, the MC gets to remove one tag 
  as well; if you want to add a tag, the MC gets to add one, too. On a 
  miss, the MC gets to take away or add a tag of their choice. 
  The smoker is a gunner, and so naturally has to be able to modify and tweak 
  their guns. Tags are covered in the Gear chapter (page 181), but some are 
  good and some are bad. On the off-chance that you, the MC, need to remove 
  a tag and there are no good tags to remove, feel free to add a bad tag.
  After their kit, the smoker chooses two of these:
  Rip & tear. You inflict +1 harm to people and ships alike.
  Artificer. When you use your gunner’s kit to improve a gun, when 
  you would normally add or remove one tag of your choice, add or 
  remove two instead.
  Remote autotargetting. You can fire any of the ship’s guns from 
  anywhere on or around the ship.
  Overcharge. When you spend time tinkering and getting to know a 
  gun—any gun, ship’s or otherwise—roll+junk. On a 10+, hold 2. On 
  a 7-9, hold 1. Anyone using that gun can spend your hold, 1 for 1, to 
  deal +2 harm. On a miss, hold 1 anyway, but the gun immediately 
  breaks, and must be repaired. While a gun’s overcharged, you can’t 
  overcharge it again.
  Sometimes, you just need a bit more oomph to your guns. The smoker can 
  tool up everyone’s weapons, but not without risk.
  Tune up. When you repair or improve a weapon that belongs to 
  somebody else, loosen your chain, or both of you heat your chain 
  (your call).
  
  141
  Knuckle down. When someone near you needs to hold firm or act 
  fast and you bellow at them to win and not fail, they count as hav-
  ing rolled a 10+, but tighten your chain afterwards.
  A smoker might also wear the hat of a drill sergeant: this is their move. When 
  the crew is falling apart because they can’t keep up, this is the move.
  Full-body harness. You can detach a ship’s gun (heavy or light, 
  either) from the ship, and then carry it around and use it just like a 
  regular gun. 
  For whatever reason, players seem to expect their to be a catch—there 
  isn’t. The smoker can just get a big fucking gun; it’s re-attachable later, too.
  Failsafe triggers. If someone’s using a gun that you worked on at 
  any point and you don’t want them to be using it, that gun immedi-
  ately breaks; alternatively, you can cause any gun you’ve worked 
  on to instantly fire at any time, but then that gun breaks and must 
  be repaired.
  On the occasion the smoker wants to meddle, rather than face things head-
  on, this is their move. It works for PCs and NPCs both, so don’t hold back.
  No bullshit. When you threaten or hold firm against another crew 
  member, you can roll+heat instead of +face or +spine.
  This is the smoker’s main social move: they’ll be friends with people who 
  use their guns. Overcharge counts as “repairing or improving,” too.
  Again, this is the drill sergeant coming through. Smokers don’t have the time 
  or resources to screw around, and that resentment can shine through.
  On top of all this, the smoker also adds a small (size+1) set of guns to the 
  ship: that comes out to two light guns and two heavy guns. These guns can 
  be whatever the smoker wants, since it’s their gig, after all.
  If the smoker is also the Captain, they get this move, too:
  Spotter’s call. When anyone other than you mans the ship’s guns 
  and you spot them, roll+spine. On a 10+, everyone manning a gun 
  other than you deals +1 harm and takes +1 ongoing until the fight-
  ing’s done. On a 7-9, they all take one or the other, not both. On a 
  miss, they all take -1 ongoing.
  The smoker is a gunner, and now the rest of the crew can be, too.
  
  142
  TECH
  MOVES
  The tech chooses three of these moves:
  Tooo many books. You get +1 brain (max+3).
  Sharp eyes, sharper wit. When you analyze something or get a 
  read, you always get one additional hold.
  Forced seclusion protocols. When you’re in the systems room, you 
  can lock down a room on another ship within far range exactly as 
  if it was your own.
  Normally, crewmembers can only lock down a room aboard their own ship; 
  this makes it so that the tech can also do it to enemy ships, which can be 
  very, very powerful in the right cases.
  Logical outcomes. When you threaten someone, roll+brain instead 
  of +face. When you’re with the Captain when they get a job, they 
  take +1 forward; if you’re the Captain, you take +1 forward.
  A small social buff; it keeps the tech active when the crew gets to talking, 
  and it makes them useful to bring along to pick up jobs.
  Full ship scan. When you use the systems to scan another ship, 
  roll+brain, and then ask questions from the list below, to which the 
  MC will answer honestly. On a 10+, ask 3; on a 7-9, ask 1:
  • how many people are on board?
  • how much weaponry does the ship and crew have?
  • who does this ship work for?
  • what rooms does this ship have?
  On a miss, ask 1 anyway, but the systems immediately suffer 
  1-harm (ap).
  Sometimes, getting a read isn’t enough. The tech can answer questions the 
  other crewmembers will have, and handily, too.
  Integral defenses. When someone is in the systems room and you 
  don’t want them to be, take +1 ongoing to any rolls against them.
  
  143
  Discrete compu-functions. You can make systems moves from 
  anywhere on the ship, along with any moves that require you to be 
  at the systems.
  This is just like the other remote moves. This one applies to when they lock 
  down a room, obviously, but also to forced seclusion protocols, full ship 
  scan, and integral defenses.
  Audio-neural interlinks. You and the entire crew can talk to each 
  other, with or without speaking, from anywhere. If you tag some-
  one, you can add them, too, and then remove them at any time.
  Tagging someone means the tech walks up to them and tags them with 
  something, like a recording device or a skin implant.
  Old world knowledge. When a crewmember comes to you for ad-
  vice, tell them what you honestly think the best course of action 
  is. If they do it, they take +1 ongoing, and you loosen your chain. 
  If the plan works, you both heat your chain; if it doesn’t, you both 
  cool your chain.
  This is the tech’s main social move; the tech is a counselor, and so they can 
  alter their relationships by giving council.
  Trace connections. When you get a read on another crew member 
  or analyze something belonging to another crewmember, you can 
  roll+heat instead of +gut or +brain.
  Techs aren’t experts on people, but if they feel strongly about someone, 
  they’ll take the time to learn anyway.
  The tech’s dedicated room is real simple: the systems get +1 size. The sys-
  tems are the undisputed home of the tech, and so they always add to them.
  When the tech is Captain, they also get this move:
  Hard return. At the beginning of a job, hold 1 for each of your crew, 
  including yourself. At any point, you can spend your hold, 1 for 1, 
  to instantly return a crew member to the ship, regardless of where 
  they are. If the crew member is unwilling, tighten your chain after 
  they return. If you tag someone, you can use this move on them, 
  too.
  Insurance, abduction, reins, preservation —this move does it all. It simply 
  depends how the Captain uses it.
  
  144
  
  MASTER
  THE
  CERE-
  OF
  MONIES
  
  146
  It’s you! You’re the Master of Ceremonies, what this game calls its GM.
  Congratulations! It’s good to be the MC!
  You play the world, the dangers, the NPCs, the Authority, and basically ev-
  erything else that isn’t the crew or their ship. You don’t need to have all of 
  the details ahead of time by any means—part of the fun of this game is 
  coming up with stuff on the fly based on what tidbits the players give you—
  but it does mean you’re on the hook for “lore.” This chapter and the chapter 
  on the world (page 191) can definitely help with that, if that makes you ner-
  vous, but you shouldn’t be. Whatever you make up is valid, I trust you.
  You’re also the adjudicator of rules and mechanics, which means that when 
  there’s uncertainty about what rule applies or when a move is used, it’s your 
  call. This means that a lot of what you do is make judgement calls; roleplay-
  ing games are about the relationship between structured rules and open 
  narrative, and you’re the go-between. This feels like a lot, but don’t worry 
  too much: read the moves closely, think about the “when you…” phrases 
  of each, and then just go with your gut on whether or not it applies. Again, 
  I trust you.
  If you’ve never been the MC for a “Powered by the Apocalypse” game before, 
  it’s going to feel a little bit different. You have less control over the game; 
  the players have far more volition. If you try to have a “plot” planned out 
  ahead of time, this won’t work. Part of what makes Rust Hulks tick is that 
  nobody, including you, knows what’s going to happen ahead of time.
  As MC, you have three primary fields that apply to you: your agendas, which 
  are your broad, overarching goals for the game; your principles, which guide 
  you in how to best deal with situations as they come; and your moves, 
  which are the things you can do moment-to-moment in the game. Learn 
  these three and reference them often, and you’ll do just fine.
  Good luck!
  
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  AGENDAS
  Your agendas are the broad goals you should be striving for over the course 
  of the game; they’re the overarching, all-encompassing objectives you have 
  as the MC. If you can hit your agenda each session, you’ll be fine.
  Your agendas are as follows:
  • Make the future feel used
  • Make the crew’s lives not boring
  • Play to find out what happens
  Everything you do should be to accomplish these three. It’s not, as an ex-
  ample, your agenda to fuck over the players, or to run a really complicated 
  “storyline,” or to build a giant in-depth world. If you’re doing something that 
  isn’t in aid to one of these three, stop. Don’t do it. Change whatever it is 
  you’re doing. 
  If you’re used to other RPGs, this might feel weird. Trust me. If you try to run 
  Rust Hulks like it’s some other game, you’ll fuck it up and it will all go bad.
  Every chance you get, mention how rusty and overworked and worn-down 
  everything is. Embrace the grimy, trashy, used-car-dealer tone the whole 
  game has throughout. Make sure the players know that things were once 
  great, but now have just gone to shit.
  This is not a game about being world-saving space heroes, it’s a game about 
  people trying to scrape by in a capitalist hellscape. That said, you still need 
  to do your best to make sure that the crew has interesting, evocative, en-
  gaging things to do. Make things dramatic, powerful, and momentous—but 
  keep the scale small and personal.
  Finally, you should play this game without knowing what the next scene is. 
  “Play to find out what happens” has sort of taken on a life of its own on vari-
  ous RPG design forums, I know, but it’s a good agenda regardless. Don’t pre-
  plan the game, don’t have a “plot” established, don’t know what happens 
  next before it happens. Let the game breathe; let your players have power.
  
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  PRINCIPLES
  The principles are your guidelines, your rules. They should help determine 
  your behaviors as MC, how you run things, and how engage the players. The 
  agendas are your goal; the principles are your roadmap.
  The principles are as follows:
  • Address characters, not players 
  • Make your move, but be subtle about it
  • Be a fan of the crew
  • Give them just enough rope to hang themselves
  • Turn up the heat instead of scorching them
  • Sometimes, disclaim decision-making
  • Act mostly in response
  • Keep them on the edge of desperation
  • Coat it all in grime and rust
  Address characters, not players. This is just good hygiene. Don’t say “Jess, 
  what is Tonkers doing about the engine?” Instead, say “Tonkers, what are 
  you doing about the engine?” It shifts the focus from the players sitting 
  around a table to the crew themselves, on their ship out among the hulks. 
  When you need to describe or declare things, make them stuff that the char-
  acters would know: “The Authority guardsman looks up from his clipboard, 
  stands a little straighter, and then turns and runs down the street. It’s obvi-
  ous he’s got you made.” That’s obvious to the characters, so you can say it. 
  Don’t tell the players things the characters wouldn’t know—and don’t tell 
  the players something that you should be telling the characters.
  Make your move, but be subtle about it. You’ve got a bunch of moves; they 
  in the next section. When you make a move—like, maybe “break some-
  thing”—don’t say “I use ‘break something’ to break your engine,” say “The 
  plasma slag has melted through the engine’s rotary generator. There’s no 
  way the ship’s flying with it in this state.” You frame it, dress it up, put a lit-
  tle show on. It’s still just a broken engine, sure, but now it’s not you breaking 
  the engine, it’s got half-melted rotors stuck together. You see? You’re not 
  tricking them, you’re just concealing how the sausage is made.
  
  149
  Be a fan of the crew.  Look, this game gets nasty sometimes. When they’re 
  out of the frying pan and hop into the fire, you’re the cook; when they’re up 
  shit creek without a paddle, you’re the shit-piranha; when all hell breaks 
  loose, you’re the one that left hell’s backdoor unlocked. You gotta root for 
  the crew, and thus the players. If you don’t, this game is just brutal and 
  no fun for anybody. Take an interest in them; ask questions; support them 
  throughout play.
  Give them just enough rope to hang themselves. This game really shines 
  when the players are weighing their options, considering the gamble they 
  have in front of them. Do they scrape through that sketchy hulk or pass 
  it by? Do they pay for an engine repair or push on without? Do they take 
  the illegal job or opt for something safer? All good questions, all excellent 
  opportunities for the players to get into trouble. Let them. Every time that 
  things go to shit, the players should be able to trace it back to a call they 
  made. You don’t really need to cause trouble for them; they’ll cause enough 
  trouble for themselves.
  Turn up the heat instead of scorching them. When something goes awry, 
  don’t just slam them with harm and misery. Give them something to wor-
  ry about, a cause for concern, an encroaching problem. Sure, sometimes 
  when they get smashed with a coilgun you just need death and destruction, 
  but: more often it’s better to just add on more needling problems. When the 
  helm’s cracked open and the guns are on fire and there are boarders storm-
  ing the cargo hold, don’t just blow up the engines. Instead, fizzle out the 
  life support. Add more and more plates for the players to juggle, but don’t 
  shatter them unless you really mean it.
  Sometimes, disclaim decision-making. Essentially, don’t be afraid to hand 
  off the reins sometimes. This applies to all kinds of things, and the decisions 
  can come from all sorts of places. Rules adjudication, NPC behavior, lore tid-
  bits—all of that and more you can just, you know, disclaim. Let somebody 
  or something else decide. Dice, a friend, the players, “what the characters 
  would do,” whatever. Don’t feel like you need to arbitrate everything.
  Makes moves mostly in response. Rust Hulks mostly runs itself, at least 
  from the players’ perspective. If they nailed every roll they made with a 10+,
  
  150
  it would require zero input from you. That means that, really, the moves you 
  make are in response to players botching a roll. This isn’t true 100% of the 
  time—sometimes they need a little kick—but it’s definitely true most of 
  the time. Sit back, let them do what they’re doing, and then come in once 
  they roll that fat 4 with a +2 in the stat.
  Keep them on the edge of desperation. Over the course of a session, the 
  players are going to get stuff. Credits, scrap, jobs, whatever. Whenever they 
  get something good, most of the time it shouldn’t be quite enough. Every-
  thing should always be tinged by discomfort, by that gnawing anxiety that 
  what they’ve got isn’t going to cut it. Sometimes when they do really well 
  and make it all work and the rolls go just right, then make sure they’ve got 
  enough. But otherwise? Keep them on the edge.
  Coat it all in grime and rust. Space is full of huge machines long since rusted 
  solid. Everything should be mass-produced, used, worn, dirty and scrap-
  py. Things were once gleaming and spinning and hot, once, but now they’re 
  grimy and clunky and lukewarm. Everything should feel intense and brutal 
  and industrial, and everything should always be rusted almost all the way 
  through.
  Abide by these principles, and your game will be all the better for it.
  
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  MOVES
  Your moves, the MC moves, are a little different. You don’t roll any dice for 
  these. Instead, you just do them. When you want something to break, you 
  break something; when you want to hurt someone, you deal harm; when 
  you want to introduce danger, you introduce danger. There’s no chance, you 
  just do it.
  However, this doesn’t mean you can just do whatever you want! Most of the 
  time, you should only be using these moves as counteraction to players, 
  usually after they’ve missed a move. If you just start dumping problems and 
  goodies on your players willy-nilly, it will take away all sense of control they 
  have, your game will be ruined, and it will be all your fault. Restrain yourself.
  The MC moves, the moves you can make, are as follows:
  • Put someone in the hot seat
  • Inflict harm
  • Drain resources
  • Break something
  • Kick in some downsides
  • Explain the possible consequences, then ask
  • Offer a new opportunity
  • Introduce a new threat or danger
  • Turn their moves against them
  Put someone in the hot seat. Face a character with a tough choice, a hard 
  bargain, a moment of tension, an encroaching problem. Take that PC and 
  face them with challenge. This is the moment where that PC is now, more or 
  less, in the spotlight. It might not be a good spotlight—in fact, it probably 
  won’t be—but this is their chance to shine bright and have big moments.
  Inflict harm. This move is probably the simplest one here. Sometimes, you 
  just slam some damage on something. Be it person, room, or something 
  else, much of the time you will just hurt someone. This should vary in scale: 
  little harm, like a stumble or a bruise or a close call, is 1- or maybe 2-harm; 
  big harm, like a shotgun blast or a burning engine room or a machete
  
  152
  digging into you, is 3- or maybe 4-harm. There are really no times you should 
  be dealing 5-harm with no forewarning. That will instantly kill an unarmored 
  player, which is a very brutal thing to do.
  Drain resources. Players love their stuff. Fuel, supplies, weapons, ammu-
  nition, contacts, gear, and whatever else they cook up. Sometimes, rather 
  than just dishing out damage, it can be a good idea to drain away some of 
  these resources. In some cases, this is literal: tick down their fuel gauge, 
  burn their fancy ammo, that kind of thing. In others, it’s putting them in a 
  nasty situation where their best choice is to burn one of these resources—
  contacts are good for this. If they’re stranded halfway between the Belt and 
  Jupiter, it might be time to call a friend. Direct and indirect, slurping away at 
  their valuable stuff can be fun.
  Break something. This is the bite to downsides’ bark. Sometimes, when 
  something goes very seriously awry, don’t just active a downside, but in-
  stead you can full-on break something. Usually, this is just an item, like a 
  weapon or tool or something, but occasionally, if it’s extremely dire, you can 
  break something more serious, like a doorway or piece of cargo or a vital 
  piece of a room. This is basically the alternative to harm: if you don’t want to 
  hurt the players, hurt their stuff instead.
  Kick in some downsides. Everything out among the hulks is on the verge of 
  breaking. Weapons are shoddy, hulls are patched, engines sputter, armor is 
  cracked, and everything is unreliable and about to break down. Sometimes, 
  when something goes awry, you should, rather than simply destroy some-
  thing, make something’s bad sides felt. A lot of the items in this game have 
  traits and quirks and ups and downs, and this is the chance to make them 
  known and show their impact. If you can, build on how the players have de-
  scribed those things previously; use what they give you, however you can.
  t When a crewmember gets stuck between two different things and can only 
  choose one, make sure they have a good sense of the consequences, then 
  ask them. Give them the choice, and make sure they’re informed; this is all 
  good drama. If you don’t cover the consequences, it feels coerced; if you 
  don’t asks them, then there’s no choice at all. This is the move that sparks 
  some of the best juice, trust me.
  
  153
  Offer a new opportunity. Out among the hulks, there are all sorts of chanc-
  es. Chances for faster routes, bigger profits, and dangerous trouble. When 
  these chances arrive, make sure the players know about them. You don’t 
  necessarily have to tell them every minor detail, but definitely cover the 
  broad strokes, enough that they can make a legitimate decision. This ties 
  into giving them rope for the gallows—there’s nothing better than dangling 
  them a new angle on a job, only to have it backfire on them because of some 
  boneheaded decision they made earlier.
  Introduce a new threat or danger. Change things up. They thought this was a 
  simple hauling job from Titan to Mercury, but now that cargo turns out to be 
  weapons contraband. They’re scraping a hulk and find a person, someone 
  who needs help as soon as they can get it. Those pirates are actually Au-
  thority hunters, pulling an illegal act of entrapment. Make things dicey. Keep 
  the players on their toes.
  Turn them moves against them. This doesn’t mean that they roll a 10+ and it 
  goes bad somehow anyway. Instead, it means that when they botch a roll, 
  use whatever they just tried to do against them. They wanted to make a 
  mad dash to their ship as it was pulling away? Have them fall off the docks. 
  They wanted to fix their fancy new armor? Have it be shattered into a bunch 
  of pieces. Tie the narrative of their move into the mechanics of their conse-
  quences. Mirror their choices, and make them real.
  
  154
  PREP
  So, really, this bit shouldn’t be called “prep.” It’s really “some guidelines to 
  help your run NPCs and ships and stuff” but that doesn’t fit nicely, so it’s 
  called “prep.”
  It covers some rough guidelines and suggestions to help you come up with 
  the necessary content of the game, primarily NPCs and NPC ships. All of this 
  is pretty malleable; if you need to shift or tweak or change some of it around 
  to better suit your game, by all means, do it.
  NPCs
  NPCs, or non-player characters, are all of the other non-crewmember char-
  acters that the crew will meet and interact with over the course of the game. 
  NPCs are simple. They should have clear and specific goals, and they should 
  do their best to reach them. NPCs come in four basic flavors: Authority, mer-
  chant, criminal, and ordinary. Each has their own common motivations
  Authority NPCs work for the Authority. They’re soldiers, officers, hunters, 
  inspectors, cops, and whatever other nefarious figures you need them to 
  be. They dress in dark uniforms; they hide their faces behind masks, hel-
  mets, and eyepieces; they wear sleek matching armor. Authority NPCs are 
  jerks, basically: they want to enforce Authority rule, they want to keep their 
  taskmasters happy, they want to flex their raw power, and they want to 
  earn some credits along the way. They’re enforcers, guard dogs, and bu-
  reaucrats. 
  Merchant NPCs work for corporate overlords, or are independent sales-peo-
  ple themselves. They either dress efficiently and cheaply, or they dress in 
  gaudy, flaunted wealth. Merchant NPCs are out to make as many credits as 
  they can; they also have reputations to uphold, wares to keep safe, and a 
  desperate impulse to keep things running smoothly. They’re friendly with 
  crews because they can sell them something; as soon as a crew starts to 
  be more trouble than they’re worth, though, merchants will cut them loose. 
  They’re salespeople, corporate officers, and used car dealers.
  
  155
  Criminal NPCs are decidedly against the Authority; they run the gamut from 
  pirates to gangsters to insurgents to warlords. They have no unified style, 
  but they usually lean into images of destruction and power: spikes, war 
  paint, ragged clothes, bristly weapons, wild tattoos, that kind of thing. First 
  and foremost, they want to avoid being caught by the Authority (or other 
  criminals), but they also want to settle old scores, improve their clout and 
  standing in the criminal underworld, and make a boatload of credits in the 
  process. They’re thugs, smugglers, and godfathers.
  Ordinary NPCs are, well, ordinary. Ordinary doesn’t really exist in Rust Hulks, 
  but these are people that are trying to get by on their own, without much al-
  legiance to other masters. They dress is patched, worn clothing; they speak 
  in a number of dialects and accents; some might have more credits than 
  others, but none of them are rich. Ordinary folk, much like the crew, want to 
  avoid the gaze of the Authority, cover for their friends and other loved ones, 
  advance their own interests and goals, and try to make enough credit to 
  stay afloat. They’re workers, mainly; people just trying to make it all work.
  In terms of armor and weapons and stuff, NPCs usually die if they take 
  3-harm. 1-harm has them hurt and shaken, 2-harm has them bloody and 
  broken, and 3-harm kills them. A super-tough Authority bossman or some 
  pirate warlord might take 4-harm, just as a weakling scavenger might die 
  after 2-harm, but 3-harm is a good base. 
  Keep your NPCs simple. Don’t let them overshadow the crew.
  NPC SHIPS
  NPC ships follow the same broad rules as the crew’s ship: there are a bunch 
  of rooms, they have different functions, and take damage separately. This 
  might seem overwhelming, but it can be simplified.
  First and foremost, every single ship needs a helm, an engine, and systems. 
  A ship that doesn’t have these is a hulk. If you need rooms (or if the crew 
  needs rooms to target) these three will always be there. By and large, rooms 
  on NPC ships are all the same size, typically with a minimum of small (size+1). 
  If the ship’s got a special room you can make it bigger—like maybe it’s a big 
  fat barge, so it’s got a large (size+3) cargo hold, or something.
  
  156
  Almost every ship has a hull, too; ones that don’t tend to go down quickly. 
  For the purpose of simplicity, NPC ships generally have 3-hull (weak), 5-hull 
  (standard), or 7-hull (tough as nails). This pretty effectively gates the kind 
  of weapons you need, from people-sized guns to ship guns to very large and 
  scary ship guns.
  Almost all ships in the system have some kind of gun; it’s just too danger-
  ous not to. Dinky little ships, like shitty merchants or whatever, typically 
  have one light gun. Midrange ships, like most serious merchants and most 
  pirates, have one light gun and one heavy gun; it gives them good range, and 
  is enough to scare off most things. Big honking ships, like hefty pirate ships 
  or Authority hunters, can basically have as many guns as they want. 
  In terms of crew, crews come in three rough sizes: for small ships, they 
  have 1-3 crew; for midrange ships, they have crews of 5-10; big ships have 
  crews of 15 people or more. These numbers are pretty fudgeable; they most-
  ly matter so the crew’s bruiser and smoker can figure out exactly how many 
  people they need to waste.
  Finally, two pieces of advice on ships: first, use fancy rooms, like boarding 
  docks and bolt-holes and shuttles, sparingly. They can turn things on their 
  hand quickly, the kind of thing where players start to panic. 
  Second, always make Authority ships more powerful. Four times out of five, 
  crews will try to talk or flee from the Authority, not fight them. Make that 
  stick; don’t be afraid to have them be imperious as hell.
  HUBS, OUTPOSTS, AND STATIONS
  The exact specifications of what separates these in terms of lore is covered 
  in the world chapter (page 191), but the basic gist is thus: hubs are big cities, 
  outposts are small towns, both are on planets; stations are free-standing 
  space stations, usually in space.
  When the crew lands on a moon or planet, figure out if they’re more likely to 
  land at a hub or outpost; not every planet and moon has both, so check the 
  book if you’re not sure. If they stumble on a station or would prefer not to 
  make planetfall, let them.
  
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  If you need a name for a hub or outpost or station and can’t think of one, 
  do the following: take the planet or moon name, add a Greek letter to it, and 
  then slap a hyphen and number on the end. “Neptune Epsilon-6,” or “Io Rho-
  2.” It sounds industrious and sci-fi, like humanity was expanding so fast it 
  couldn’t be bothered to come up with things as mundane as names.
  Hubs have it all: Authority, gangs, merchants, people, and everything they 
  can think of for sale. If they want a piece of gear or a ship upgrade or some-
  thing in a hub, let them have it. Most hubs have most jobs
  Outposts don’t: they usually will have an Authority office, a handful of mer-
  chants, a local gang, and then some ordinary people. They have the basics 
  for sale—medpacks, weapons, repair kits, armor, ship repairs—but prob-
  ably don’t have fancy stuff. If they’re trying to find work in an outpost, it’s 
  going to be a little dicier, most of the time. 
  Stations vary. The big ones are the size of hubs, and sell everything accord-
  ingly. Small ones are more common, roughly in line with outposts. The very 
  smallest stations are basically a single dock attached to a couple of studio 
  apartments; these ones will have nothing for sale other than ship repairs. 
  Don’t stress about these too much; generally, if a player wants something 
  and there aren’t wildly extenuating circumstances, let them have it.
  
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  JOBS
  
  160
  Jobs are the core of what players do in Rust Hulks. They’re the crew’s main 
  source of income, the bulk of what they spend their time on, and are the 
  source of nearly all things good and bad. 
  A job is defined thusly: the crew is hired by someone else to perform a task 
  or service, in exchange for which the crew will receive some kind of payout. 
  That’s it. There are moves that reference the ending or beginning of a job, 
  but don’t sweat those. If the crew gets paid to do something, that’s a job. 
  Everything else is pretty much irrelevant.
  Just like players and your other MC moves, jobs have their own specific 
  moves. These are moves that, like MC moves, you can and should make 
  when appropriate: you don’t need to roll, just do them. 
  Each job has its own list of moves it can make; some are similar to other 
  jobs’ moves, but you shouldn’t make moves from jobs outside the current 
  one. That is, don’t be bringing out haul moves when the crew’s running a hit. 
  When a job move says “push,” like “push analyze something,” it means that 
  you should be a bit more active in prompting crewmembers to make that 
  specific basic move.
  There are five kinds of jobs: the Haul, the Ferry, the Escort, the Hit, and the 
  Fetch. This chapter will cover each in detail, along with their moves. It’ll also 
  cover basic job structure, how to set up and end jobs, legality, and a handful 
  of other useful things.
  After the core chapter on MC’ing, this chapter is arguably the most important 
  chapter for you in the entire game. Read it in detail. t
  
  161
  STRUCTURE
  All jobs follow the same basic structure: the crew puts out a call for a job to 
  get hired, they do the job, they come in and get paid. 
  Most of that is just ordinary gameplay. The parts that are a little snarlier, the 
  beginning and the end, have special moves: get a job, and get paid. 
  Get a job is rolled when the crew needs a job. The Captain decides what kind 
  of job they want, makes the roll, and then you tell them what job they land-
  ed. Have the Captain meet with their employer to set terms, let the Captain 
  haggle or threaten or whatever, and then let them go.
  Most jobs pay at least something up front, especially on long journeys. Don’t 
  have the employer offer this unless they’re a friend of the Captain’s, but 
  once the Captain demands it, be easygoing. If you want to spice it up a bit, 
  have the employer give them enough credits to cover, say, half the spans for 
  the job, but leave the crew to their own devices to figure out the rest.
  Once they have the job, it’s just ordinary gameplay. Fly spans, see what 
  happens, solve whatever problems come up. 
  Once the job’s done, they’ll come in to get paid. Sometimes this is where 
  they started, sometimes it’s at the end, sometimes it’s somewhere else en-
  tirely. Wherever it is, the Captain rolls to get paid only once the job’s actual-
  ly finished. They can keep their cargo or passengers hostage, if they really 
  want to, but the job should be done. 
  Once the crew and Captain have dealt with getting paid, turn them loose. 
  They’ll probably make some repairs and buy some upgrades, but then they’ll 
  be out of credits and looking for work. Rinse and repeat.
  You should aim for about one job per session. Spans range in time, usually 
  around half an hour, so you can figure out how big a job the crew can take 
  on based on real-life time. That said, there’s no hard binding on that, so feel 
  free to take on a few short jobs or one big long job, if the urge strikes you.
  
  162
  LEGALITY
  With the Authority’s dominion over the solar system, the legality of individ-
  ual jobs matters a great deal. Most independent ships—the kind your crew 
  will fly—already operate on the fringes of legality, in grey-legal space, and 
  so the law can never be taken for granted.
  Broadly speaking, there are two modes of legality for jobs: legal jobs, and 
  illegal jobs. Legal jobs include hauling cargo, ferrying passengers, escorting 
  merchants, bounty hunting, and search-and-rescue operations. Illegal jobs 
  include bootlegging contraband, smuggling wanted individuals, flying pro-
  tection for smugglers, piracy, and scavenging operations.
  Notice how those are basically the same jobs? The difference is whether or 
  not you cross the Authority or not. There’s no technical difference whether 
  you’re hauling cases of protein solids or cases of coke, it’s just a question 
  of whether the Authority allows it. Likewise, preying on merchant vessels 
  and preying on pirate suppliers is effectively the same; one of those just 
  has better PR.
  Still, the law cannot be ignored, and thus the legality of a job matters. Illegal 
  jobs always pay better than their legal counterparts, but carry greater risk. 
  On a legal job, being stopped by the Authority is a hassle, something to be 
  dealt with stoic silence. On an illegal job, being stopped by the Authority 
  means risking heavy bribes, jail time, or a fight with a hunter ship—none 
  of which spell good things for a crew that can barely keep their ship afloat.
  When a crew embarks on a job, make sure that they’re aware of its legality. 
  Jobs can definitely shift from legal to illegal, but they should have some 
  warning if that’s about to happen. Tug them towards one side or the other, 
  but make sure that it’s their choice, in the end.
  
  163
  THE HAUL
  The “haul” in haul refers to hauling cargo. Pulling a haul means shipping 
  cargo from one place to another. It means the crew has to pick up some 
  cargo, fly their ship somewhere else in the system, and then drop it off. It’s 
  the simplest type of job, and the most common.
  The important term in the haul is the cargo: it’s the stuff that is literally 
  being hauled. When this section references cargo, it’s the thing the crew is 
  carrying. This could range from textiles to weapons to cattle: it’s all cargo. 
  The one exception to this is people; if the crew is hauling people, it’s not a 
  haul but instead a ferry, with a whole other set of stuff.
  Sometimes, the haul’s cargo is literally cargo: big crates of materials or 
  goods, boxed up and stacked in the hold. Sometimes, though, a haul can 
  be closer to a courier service: the crew might be delivering a message, or 
  a sample, or a small parcel of something dangerous. These are still hauls; 
  size often correlates to value, but not always—it also means crews with no 
  cargo hold can still run hauls.
  HAUL SETUP
  Set up a haul like any other job. The employer is someone who needs some-
  thing shipped long-distance. They aren’t doing it through ordinary means; 
  maybe that’s because they’re desperate, maybe they’re far out of the way, 
  maybe they’re shipping illicit cargo. Whether or not the employer tells the 
  crew their reasons is up to the employer, but a good crew rarely asks ques-
  tions—and a good employer volunteers fewer answers.
  Typically, the cargo and the employer go hand in hand: one decides the oth-
  er. If the employer is a mob boss, they’ll likely be shipping weapons or drugs; 
  if the cargo is cattle or foodstuffs, the employer is likely an agri-worker of 
  some kind. After a few hauls (and assuming they get any info whatsoever), 
  the crew will likely be able to guess what their cargo or who their employer 
  is, depending on whichever is unknown. 
  
  164
  Remember that, if the Captain opts to do so, they can substitute the cargo 
  hold’s size in place of face for rolling to get a job. It’s easier to find hauling 
  work that pays well if you’ve got a ship clearly kitted out for it. Also keep in 
  mind that if a crew literally cannot fit the cargo in their hold, they’ve likely 
  lost a job—or at the bare minimum a good chunk of the profits.
  Pickup is usually simple: it’s just loading crates or barrels or bolts onto the 
  ship. Sometimes it’s harder, like with cattle, but unless there’s good juice to 
  be had in the pickup, feel free to breeze through it. 
  If there are any special conditions that the cargo needs to be treated with, 
  such as careful handling or regular checkups, figure them out now. Depend-
  ing on the employer, tell your crew now, too. 
  HAUL PAYOUT
  Payout for a haul is simple, since the only real factor is distance. Generally, 
  the payout for a haul looks like this:
  • By default, pay 5 credit per span flown.
  • Add 2 credit per span per size of the cargo hold.
  • Add 3 credits per span for illegal or illicit cargo.
  Since a mid-weight class ship suffering ordinary incidental costs runs about 
  4-5 credits per span, nearly all of the profit margins on hauls come from the 
  size of the cargo hold. This is intentional. Pretty much any crew can pull 
  hauls, but it’s not a good way to make lots of cash long-term. The cheapest, 
  dirtiest hauls will pay 5 to 10 credits. 
  That is, of course, assuming you’re pulling strictly legal jobs. Once you fac-
  tor in the potential risk of hauling contraband, the profit margins begin to 
  increase rapidly. This is also intentional. For crews that aren’t kitted out for 
  long hauls, turning to less-legal cargo is an easy way to come out on top, at 
  least a little but.
  Of course, for crews that both have a heavy-duty cargo hauler and are will-
  ing to turn a blind eye to their cargo’s lawfulness, well… the sky’s the limit, 
  really. The priciest, riskiest, most daring smuggler hauls can easily run up-
  wards of 100 credits.
  
  165
  As always, make sure your players have a decent estimation of these num-
  bers going into their job searches. They should know that having a big cargo 
  hold will potentially double their payout, and hauling outside the law can 
  easily do the same.
  Likewise, feel free to adjust these numbers up and down a bit. A particularly 
  simple short job might pay a bit less, while a longer job with volatile or dan-
  gerous or picky cargo might pay a bit more. Do what feels right; bonuses and 
  docked pay are all part of the charm.
  One other thing to consider: it’s possible the crew’s employer might be will-
  ing to offer payment in terms of raw cargo, rather than credits. This is called 
  payment in kind, and is highly common in some parts of the system, par-
  ticularly for more obscure and marginalized communities. In many cases, 
  employers are willing to pay more if the crew take payment in kind, rather 
  than in credit. Don’t feel obligated to do this, but definitely keep it handy 
  when you want it.
  HAUL MOVES
  Moves for the haul center around the cargo itself; it’s the focal point of the 
  job. Moves for the haul are:
  • Push analyze something
  • Threaten the cargo’s safety
  • Attract locals interested in the cargo
  • Dangle using the cargo as a solution to a current problem
  • Force a decision between the cargo and something else
  • Hint at stealing the cargo
  • Present another buyer for the cargo
  • Reveal the cargo as something other than as described
  Again, the cargo varies wildly, so adapting each of these in turn can be 
  tricky. Remember that it’s better to turn up the heat than it is to just scorch 
  them: rather than just blowing up the cargo, mention that it’s awful fragile, 
  and then put threats near it. The question that drives the haul is: what’s the 
  cargo worth, and how far is the crew willing to push to ensure its safety? 
  Use it.
  
  166
  THE FERRY
  The ferry refers to ferrying passengers. Pulling a ferry means that one or 
  more persons has booked passage on their ship to go from one place to 
  another. It means the crew has to pick up some passengers, fly them some-
  where, and see them dropped off where they want to be. After hauls, ferries 
  are the most common type of job. It’s the kind of thing almost any ship can 
  do, provided there’s any spare space on a ship. 
  In most ways, a ferry is just like a haul, except that rather than shipping car-
  go, you’re shipping people. As with a haul’s cargo, the focus of a ferry is on 
  the passengers. Who are they? Where are they going? Why are they going 
  there? What have they done and what will they do?
  Ferries also vary in their scale: sometimes, a lucrative ferry can mean that 
  they’ve ferried a dozen people from one side of the system; sometimes, 
  though, a lucrative ferry can mean that they’ve gotten a single VIP across a 
  mere two spans. Anyone can pull ferries, the question is just how.
  FERRY SETUP
  Setting up a ferry follows the same pattern as a haul, but has a few more 
  questions to answer from your end. Mainly, are the employers and the pas-
  sengers the same people? Typically they are, but there can be all sorts of 
  unusual scenarios where they aren’t. In those cases, it’s on you to come 
  up with a reason why. Maybe the passenger is a friend or family member of 
  the employer? Maybe the passenger is the operative or employee of a larger 
  organization, the employer? Maybe the passenger is being ferried against 
  their will, and the employer is their captor?
  Whatever the reason, you should have at least some idea of what the pas-
  senger-employer dynamic is going to be like going into the job. If the pas-
  senger is paying their own way, thus serving as employer, consider the 
  employer-crew dynamic there. Is the passenger just cargo, and thus has to 
  follow the Captain’s orders? Or is the passenger the crew’s employer, and 
  thus they are obligated to follow directions under contract?
  
  167
  Likewise, since the ferry is a job that very explicitly involves other people, 
  it’s a good idea to have put together at least the barebones of the NPCs the 
  crew will be ferrying. If it’s just one or two people, figure them out. If they’re 
  passage for a dozen people, then come up with a few choice personalities—
  ideally ones that are representative of the larger whole—and use those.
  Once the Captain’s settled on the job, you follow the same basic steps as a 
  haul: pickup, the actual flying, drop-off. Check the rules on bunks: the Cap-
  tain can roll to get a job using the bunks’ size in place of their face, if they 
  want. As with cargo, any ship can probably squeeze in one or two passen-
  gers somewhere (but it won’t be pleasant), but anything bigger 
  As normal, the pickup and drop-off are usually simple, but can get messy. 
  If the passenger is a criminal ringleader or an Authority officer, for example, 
  both of those could get hot, and quickly. 
  FERRY PAYOUT
  Just like hauls, ferries have simple payouts, as the main factor is distance. 
  Generally, the payout for a ferry looks like this:
  • By default, pay 5 credits per span flown.
  • Add 2 credits per size of the bunks per span.
  • Add 3 credits per span flown for illegal or highly dangerous jobs.
  Ferries are in the same boat as hauls: pretty much any ship can pull them 
  and they’re easy to tack onto an existing job, but only the ships that are 
  actually set up for them will make much money doing it. The cheapest, mea-
  sliest milk run ferries will likely pay out about 10 credits; the most danger-
  ous, system-spanning, borderline-suicidal ferries will pay upwards of 100 
  credits, though those are extremely rare.
  It’s worth mentioning that you can set up ferry jobs that are only for one or 
  two people, but you should still give the crew credits to account for the size 
  of their bunks. A large set of bunks could hold potentially dozens of people, 
  sure, but those one or two passengers will likely find some use for all that 
  space, thus justifying the higher payout. Also, if your players invest in a cer-
  tain kind of job and then they manage to land that job, don’t shaft them for it. 
  
  168
  As with all jobs, there’s a decent chance the crew will need or want a chunk 
  of the payout upfront. The twist on that for ferries is that, if the passenger 
  is employer, the crew can potentially be paid by the span. It’s not out of 
  bounds to imagine a passenger-employer being willing to pay the crew as 
  they complete each leg of their journey, but not before. If the passenger has 
  all their credits on them, however, there’s a chance that the crew might just 
  put a slug in their brain, take the credits, and dump the body. 
  In terms of legality, ferries follow much the same guidelines as other jobs: 
  illegal jobs are always more profitable, but are riskier. People with wanted 
  bounties on their heads can be smuggled out secretly, but if word gets out 
  they’re escaping, hunters will likely pursue—thus putting the crew in a pre-
  carious position.
  As always, make sure your players have a rough idea of the payout matrix 
  for their ferry jobs, and understand the legality of the job they’re taking on. 
  Adjust the credit numbers up and down as befits the job, but make sure 
  you’re clear with your players on all of it. 
  FERRY MOVES
  Ferry moves center on your passengers; they’re the source of the job itself. 
  Moves for the ferry are:
  • Push fast-talk and threaten someone
  • Expose a passenger to harm
  • Reveal a secret about a passenger
  • A passenger demands the ship take a detour
  • A passenger demands to leave the ship
  • Turn a passenger against the others, or against the crew
  • Force a decision between a passenger and something else
  • Hint at taking the passengers somewhere they’ll be worth more
  • Introduce a passenger that has history a crewmember.
  Passengers should be volatile. Nearly all of the ferry moves involve you 
  using the passengers to put the crew in awkward, ugly scenarios. People 
  always bring baggage with them, and when they take on passengers, they 
  take on that baggage. Use it.
  
  169
  THE ESCORT
  The escort is exactly what it sounds like: it’s escorting another ship or ships 
  from one place to another, likely fending off trouble along the way. The Au-
  thority’s grip weakens significantly past the Belt, to the degree that any-
  one travelling further than Mars will often need protection. It’s here that an 
  escort is helpful: merchant clients are loath to hire crew and add weapons 
  to their ship, as it’s often cheaper to simply hire a mercenary or two for 
  protection instead.
  The escort departs significantly from ferries and hauls: there’s another ship 
  involved, the client, which further entails another Captain and another crew, 
  and the job’s goal is not to deliver something or someone to a place, but 
  rather to ensure that another delivery happens without issue.
  Likewise, a pricey escort can happen in multiple ways: maybe there are mul-
  tiple ships to be escorted, maybe there’s a long way to travel, or maybe the 
  client being escorted is especially wanted (by the Authority or others).
  ESCORT SETUP
  The key element of an escort is the client, the ship (or ships) being escorted 
  by the crew. Typically, it’s just one ship, one that doesn’t have much in the 
  way of defenses. Come up with basic mockups for the Captain of that ship, 
  and one or two key crewmembers; at some point, the crew will be talking 
  with somebody aboard the client ship, and you need a face and a name for 
  that. 
  In coming up with a client, you also need two pieces of information, which 
  the crew will likely but not necessarily know: the first is the destination, 
  where the client’s headed. Most Captains will ask this, but a wily client might 
  want zero leaks, and so will tell them nothing. The second is the reason 
  the client needs an escort; usually this is just because they’ve got valuable 
  cargo of some variety, but they might also be on the run, be carrying illegal 
  contraband, or be fleeing some kind of pursuer. Whatever the case, coming 
  up with these details ahead of time will ensure that when trouble eventually 
  arises, you’ll be prepared for it.
  
  170
  The vast majority of the time, the client—the person and ship being escort-
  ed—and the employer—the person or organization paying the crew—are 
  going to be the same. Even in cases where the client is a member of a larger 
  organization, such as a criminal syndicate or corporation, they will still be 
  the one making the payments to the crew. Part of the charm of an escort is 
  the possible option to turn on the client and seize their valuables, but keep-
  ing payment elsewhere can deprive the crew of that option.
  Once the Captain and employer have settled up, it functions more or less like 
  a haul or ferry. The crew still rolls to travel spans and deals with whatever 
  they encounter, they now just have to deal with another ship in the mix. 
  When they finish the job, they talk to the employer and get paid. If they opt 
  for things to get ugly, make sure that the client brings in some backup—
  they’ve just paid the crew for an escort, they obviously can’t take them on 
  themselves, so to make that option sting properly the client will need some 
  more muscle.
  If the client is not on the same planet as the crew, there may a kind of 0.5th 
  step to the job, where they fly to wherever the client is. This is unusual, but 
  it can make for interesting moments: consider the escort where the previous 
  escort has gotten wasted, and now the crew’s called in mid-span as the new 
  escort. There are lots of other ways you can spin this, but make sure most of 
  the job is actually escorting, not flying-to-the-escort.
  ESCORT PAYOUT
  Payout for an escort is a little trickier than for a haul or a ferry, because while 
  spans flown do matter, the bigger factor is in the heat of the client. Clients 
  that just need a little extra muscle are cheap, while clients that will have all 
  kinds of dangers bearing down on them are worth significantly more.
  The payout for an escort looks like this:
  • By default, pay 6 credits per span flown.
  • Add somewhere between +1 and +4 credits per span flown, based on the 
  heat of the client.
  • If the client is wanted by the Authority, add +3 credits per span, bare 
  minimum.
  
  171
  Most escorts pay more than most hauls or ferries because they’re more 
  specialized: anyone can pull cargo, but it takes weapons, fighters, and a 
  preparedness for action to run escorts. The cheapest, safest escorts will 
  typically pay around 15 credits; the longest, most hair-raising escort runs 
  can easily pay north of 125 credits, no problem. Sometimes more, if the cli-
  ent really has the Authority on their ass. 
  You should feel free to add on more to those values, especially if there are 
  extra ships or extra steps involved: the crew has to meet the client some-
  where, or they’re wrangling a handful of ships, or they’ve got to take special 
  precautions or detours—any of those warrants a pay raise. Exactly how 
  much varies, and needs to be played by ear a bit. I’d advise against running 
  real complicated escorts early on in your MC’ing career. Once you’ve gotten 
  a few jobs under your belt and have a sense of how the game’s economy 
  flows, then feel free to spice it up.
  Like a ferry, there’s a chance a potential client would only be willing to pay 
  out for actual services rendered, meaning they’d pay in chunks based on the 
  number of active dangers warded off. Most Captains are wary of these sorts 
  of deals, since they tend to involve very low payouts if there’s no trouble, 
  but if things go awry and the client gets hit more than once, they can be very 
  lucrative indeed. An exceptionally cunning Captain might try to find a way 
  to set up an easily-defeated challenge if this was the case, though I’d avoid 
  outright suggesting that to your players.
  Whatever you decide for payouts, make sure your players have a general 
  sense of the job ahead of time. The escort has arguably the most volatility in 
  terms of payout, so you can be a little less obvious about it, but do your best 
  to make sure your players know just as much about it as their (experienced 
  freighter) characters would.
  ESCORT MOVES
  The escort moves are:
  • Push get a read and threaten someone
  • The client makes a detour
  • The client demands unreasonable behaviors of the crew
  • The client offers more payment for dangerous diversions
  
  172
  • Target the client over the crew’s own ship
  • Show off the power of the client’s pursuers
  • Bring down pursuers on the client and the crew
  • Reveal the client as someone different than they said
  • Hint towards turning on the client directly
  • Force a decision between the client and something else
  In general, the client is the source of all escort-specific trouble. There’s nor-
  mal trouble to be had, obviously, there always is out in the hulks, but having 
  another ship to wrangle brings in all kinds of new dimensions to the job. 
  Don’t be afraid to make the client annoying, prickly, and demanding; push 
  at the crew in places they don’t want to be pushed. Just like the ferry, the 
  power dynamic of the client-wielding-credit versus the client-needing-pro-
  tecting is what makes the escort tick. Use it.
  
  173
  THE HIT
  It’s the same “hit” you find in “hitman.” To run a hit means to go somewhere 
  to kill or destroy a target. When you compare baseline-level jobs, a hit is the 
  most dangerous one on offer: on most jobs, there’s a chance the crew will 
  have to get in a fight—on a hit, it’s a guarantee. 
  Structurally, hits are also the most unusual. While a hit typically involves 
  travelling a span or more to kill a target, it doesn’t necessitate it. In theory, 
  a hit could take place in the same hub or station the crew’s already in; that 
  would be quite out of the ordinary, but not impossible. Beyond that, though, 
  hits are almost always operated remotely—the crew will go somewhere to 
  kill someone, and then receive payment over the wires or else through dead 
  drop. Going somewhere to kill someone and then meeting an employer at 
  that same place would almost certainly provoke suspicion.
  Hits are dangerous, unpredictable, and often desperate. For crews that are 
  kitted for them, though, they’re invaluable. If a crew can prove reliable at 
  doing one of the least-desired jobs in the system, they’ll make easy money.
  HIT SETUP
  In a lot of ways, a hit is the inverse of a ferry or an escort: there’s still a key 
  NPC or ship that serves as the focal point of the job, but rather than ensuring 
  its safety, it’s the crew’s job to destroy it. 
  For you, there are two major pieces to setting up a hit: the target, what-
  ever or whoever it may be; and the employer, the person or organization 
  that wants the target fragged. It’s important for you to figure out why the 
  employer needs or wants the target gone, and what’s stopping them from 
  simply doing it themselves. In the case of Authority bounties, one of the 
  most common scenarios for a hit, it’s simply because it’s cheaper to hire 
  bounty hunters; for organized crime syndicates, hiring independent crews 
  make for easier cover-ups. Whatever the reason, it’s important to consider 
  the reasoning behind the hit, as it’s what drives the whole tension of the job.
  
  174
  Once you have the employer, the target, and their connection, you’re pretty 
  much done. Hits are often set up over the wires, rather than in-person, but 
  that can vary. Completing the job usually requires some trophy of the target: 
  the head of a VIP, for example, or the signature piece of an engine. When the 
  crew gets the trophy, they’ll bring it somewhere—either to the employer, a 
  representative, or maybe a dead-drop—and present it as proof of the job’s 
  completion. 
  For the players, a hit functions more or less like any other job; there might 
  be a few more questions asked (or a few less, if they know what’s good for 
  them), but their basic job of going to a place and doing a thing is still the 
  same, though hits have more murder. 
  Legality as it regards to hits is more or less the same as all other jobs, but 
  this time with any veneer removed: illegal jobs target the Authority, or those 
  the Authority favors; legal jobs target those the Authority wants dead or 
  removed. No matter where the crew falls, though, the Authority doesn’t take 
  kindly to heavily-armed independent ships flying free, so any crew worth 
  their salt will keep a low profile regardless.
  HIT PAYOUT
  The payout for a hit swings based on how dangerous or well-protected the 
  target is, making them vary in greater amounts than most other jobs. The 
  payout for a hit looks like this:
  • By default, pay 4 credits per span flown.
  • Pay 10-50 credits for the hit, based on the danger of the target.
  • If the hit is targeting Authority, add another 20 credits, bare minimum.
  The cheapest hits on-world usually pay around 10 credits, though this is 
  rare. The most dangerous, suicidal hits can pay upwards of 100 credits, even 
  for targets that are relatively close by. 
  Just like with escorts, there’s no universal scale for judging how dangerous 
  a job will be, and thus how many credits to pay out. Generally, a 10-credit 
  hit is for someone that’s pretty much harmless, while a 50-credit is for a 
  ship that’s armed to the teeth, fully crewed, and in top shape. Experiment; 
  it’s usually better to overpay and hit hard afterwards than it is to underpay.
  
  175
  Unless the hit involves multiple separate targets, the payout process is quite 
  straightforward: the crew gets paid a little upfront if they can wrangle it, but 
  otherwise receives full payment only at the end. Unlike ferries and escorts 
  where the employer is usually present, on a hit the employer is talked to as 
  little as possible, and so the pay structure is kept streamlined.
  The one exception to this guideline is the trophy: if the employer asks for a 
  target’s distinctive eyepiece and the crew kills the target but fails to retrieve 
  the eyepiece, the employer will not react well. If the crew can prove they 
  completed the hit they might still get paid, but if they can’t, the employer 
  has no reason to pay them whatsoever.
  HIT MOVES
  The hit moves are:
  • Push get in a fight
  • The target counterattacks the crew
  • The target flees at speed
  • The target makes a show of force
  • The target begs, pleads, or bargains for their life
  • Bring another hunter down on the target
  • Reveal the target as perhaps not deserving death
  • Frame the crew, innocent or not
  Hit moves are all about the target’s capabilities. The hit is a daring, dan-
  gerous job, and so the moves are meant to push the crew at every turn, 
  forcing them to be equally daring and dangerous in response. The crew has 
  also knowingly taken on a job that puts them in danger, so don’t be afraid 
  to push a little harder; they can really only fail the job if they’re defeated 
  themselves, so don’t worry about inflicting damage along the way.
  
  176
  THE FETCH
  To fetch something is to go somewhere and retrieve something. A fetch 
  means that the crew has to go to a specific location to acquire a certain 
  object or person, and then bring it somewhere. 
  Fetches have the most variation in basic task of any job, as they have two 
  additional variables on top existing ones, like distance and legality. The first 
  of these is the cargo itself, be it a person or an object. The second is the 
  effective heat of job, whether it’s considered hot or cold; a cold job means 
  there’s no resistance, it’s just retrieval, while a hot job means there’s likely 
  to be armed resistance, making the job far more dangerous. A hot fetch with 
  a person as cargo would either be a kidnapping or a hostage rescue, while a 
  cold fetch centered on a person is nearly always a search-and-rescue oper-
  ation. A cold fetch with an object as cargo would likely be a simple scaveng-
  ing job, where a hot fetch for cargo is essentially a heist. 
  While these significant variations do exist inside the scope of a fetch, 
  they’re all considered to be the same job because they all follow the same 
  basic structure and format. All fetches have more or less the same goal, and 
  have the same relationship between the crew and the employer. Fetches 
  vary more in terms of their raw content than any other job, but they are no 
  more variable in other areas than any other job.
  Easy fetches are fast and quick jobs, simple to complete and cheaply-paid. 
  Hard fetches are long, arduous, and messy jobs, ones that are among the 
  most dangerous in the whole system. Make sure the crew knows what 
  they’re getting into.
  FETCH SETUP
  Fetches have three main sections, structurally: going to the cargo, getting 
  the cargo, and then going with the cargo to the dropoff. 
  The first section, going to the cargo, is real simple. After the Captain’s picked 
  up the job, the crew just needs to fly to their target location, like they would 
  any other. Roll to fly spans as always, and act as they go appropriately.
  
  177
  Actually getting the cargo is the most complicated part of the job; depending 
  on how hot the cargo is and what they’re actually trying to retrieve changes 
  the situation a lot. For cold jobs, emphasize whatever ticking clocks you 
  can—they’re running out of air, the item’s decaying, the hulk is drifting 
  apart—and keep things mysterious and unusual. 
  For hot jobs, you can build the situation like you would a hit: heavy defenses 
  around a central target, the cargo, which the crew have to somehow get 
  through. The added twist is that, unlike a hit where they can simply blow 
  through anything, the crew has to ensure that their target remains intact 
  (and potentially alive). It’s a tricky, dicey thing, one that requires extra care 
  and planning on the part of the crew. Don’t be afraid to push hard on them.
  After the crew’s retrieved the cargo, then it’s basically a haul or a ferry to 
  wherever the dropoff point is. In a lot of cases, this dropoff is the same place 
  the crew got the job from, but that’s not always the case. If it’s an Author-
  ity-backed job, for example, then the dropoff point is probably the nearest 
  hub or station with significant Authority presence. Wherever the dropoff is, 
  the last leg of the job is to ensure that the cargo makes it there safely, how-
  ever that may require.
  As with a hit or a haul, the key detail in setting up a fetch is the cargo itself, 
  and why it matters. Why does the employer need it, and why can’t they get 
  it themselves? Where’s the cargo from? If it’s a person, what do they think 
  of the employer? If it’s an object, what does its maker think of the employer? 
  The broad strokes of these relationships are key to the fetch: use them.
  For a fetch, legality itself matters less than the heat of the cargo. Sure, 
  breaking into an Authority prison ship will be dangerous pretty much al-
  ways, but it’s not all that much more dangerous than kidnapping a crimi-
  nal syndicate’s underboss. Even cold fetches often tread on the fringes of 
  legality—scavenging hulks usually being illegal, after all—so most crews 
  pulling a fetch don’t sweat the law. 
  FETCH PAYOUT
  Because each section of pulling a fetch can be quite involved, the general 
  payout tends to be higher than many jobs, though fetches often take longer.
  
  178
   The payout for a fetch looks like this:
  • By default, pay 5 credits per span flown.
  • Pay 5-25 credits for the retrieval, depending on how difficult it is to get 
  to the cargo.
  • For a hot fetch, double that amount.
  • Pay up to an extra 5 credits per span flown once the crew has the cargo, 
  depending on how dangerous or volatile it is.
  The cheapest fetches typically pay about 15 credits, and the most expensive 
  ones, fetches that involve flying across the system to retrieve an ultra-hot, 
  highly dangerous target and then fly them back, can easily pay upwards of 
  150 credits. 
  Cold fetches pay significantly less than hot fetches. This is by design; a hot 
  retrieval pays about the same as an equivalently-difficult hit, while a cold 
  fetch is always less. Even the most dangerous cold fetches—scavenging 
  in a nuclear-powered hulk, for example, or trying to rescue someone rapidly 
  losing oxygen on a doomed station—will never require the same level of 
  brutality and threat as a hot retrieval. 
  Make sure your players know all of this going in. Fetches have among the 
  most complicated payout matrices, so take the time to explain to them why 
  they’re being paid what they are.
  Despite the complicated payout quantities, fetches typically have very sim-
  ple payout plans: the crew gets a chunk upfront if they ask for it, and then 
  everything else at the end. Very occasionally the crew might receive a chunk 
  of the payment once the retrieval is completed but they’re still carrying the 
  cargo, but this is uncommon.
  As with a haul or a ferry, if the cargo is destroyed, the crew gets nothing. 
  Whatever they’re fetching is all-important.
  FETCH MOVES
  Fetch moves sit halfway between a haul and a hit; there’s action, but there’s 
  also long stretches of moving freight that could, maybe, be dangerous.
  
  179
  The fetch moves are:
  • Push scrape a hulk.
  • Hide the cargo behind layers of protection or obscurity.
  • Interest other crews in the cargo.
  • Pursue the cargo once it’s been retrieved.
  • Add a timer on the cargo, before or after retrieval.
  • Reveal the cargo as something other than something described.
  • Threaten the cargo, or have the cargo threaten itself.
  • Turn the cargo against the crew, intentionally or not.
  All of these moves apply whether the cargo is physical cargo, like a powerful 
  piece of tech, or a person, like a VIP.
  While the retrieval of the cargo is typically the most directly-dangerous part 
  of a fetch, the ensuing spans (once the cargo’s in hand) can often provoke 
  even more trouble. Keep that in mind as you run the game, and don’t be 
  afraid to have the cargo bring on trouble at every turn. 
  
  180
  MULTI-JOBS
  Most of the time you’re playing Rust Hulks, the crew will be on a job. If they 
  aren’t, they’ll either be dealing with the fallout from their last job or be busy 
  hunting for the next. Sometimes, the crew wants to pick up another job; 
  since spans are flown linearly, it’s entirely possible for a crew to pick up and 
  then finish a new job before they finish the first. 
  That’s fine, it’s cool, don’t sweat it. It works like this: when they want a 
  second job, make somebody (probably the Captain, but it could be whoever) 
  burn a contact for it, but don’t start hurling consequences from the contacts 
  roll yet. Roll to get a job as normal; keep those results in mind. 
  However that contacts roll went determines how “fitting” the second job is. 
  If they got a hit, it’ll be something on the way or close by to their original job. 
  If it’s a 7-9, tack on something iffy to the second job, like a sketchy employer 
  or unstable cargo or something. If it’s a miss, it’s a crappy second job, the 
  wrong direction from where the crew is heading anyway—or maybe the 
  contact just won’t give them a job at all, and they’ll have to burn another.
  Any once-per-job moves, like contacts or a jockey’s getaway driver, reset 
  only once the crew has finished every job currently active. At some point, 
  they gotta break. 
  That said, second jobs are a great way to pick up some extra credits. A crafty 
  crew that can swing second and third jobs will have a lot of extra dough for 
  when things eventually go belly-up.
  For you, the MC, don’t treat multi-jobs as anything too fancy. You can make 
  moves from any of the jobs’ move lists, and can cross some of them over if 
  you’re feeling it. You might also consider tossing around some consequenc-
  es if an employer finds out the crew they’ve hired is pulling jobs on the side. 
  Lots of employers—like the Authority—want a crew’s complete focus, and 
  so running side jobs presents as inherent risk.
  Play it by ear. Don’t sweat it too much.
  
  AND
  GEAR
  STUFF
  
  182
  WEAPONS
  Weapons are things that people use to fight. Pistols, rifles, shotguns, rock-
  ets, grenades, knives, axes, clubs, and other, less common implements of 
  destruction—all weapons. Stuff that goes bang-bang and snicker-snack. 
  Weapons have two key values: their harm, and their range. Harm is how 
  much damage the weapon does; range is how close or far you need to be to 
  attack with it. On top of that, weapons also have tags: modifiers and condi-
  tionals and adjustments that mean the weapon behaves in a certain, specif-
  ic way. Tags are often good, but are also often bad. Depends.
  HARM
  The harm of a weapon determines how much damage the weapon does, how 
  deadly it is. An ordinary crewmember can take 5-harm before they’re dead; 
  an average NPC can eat about half that before they’re toast. 
  Fists, rocks, pieces of scrap, headbutts, kicks, and other weak implements 
  are 1-harm. You can definitely kill someone by beating them to death with 
  your hands, but it takes time.
  Pistols, knives, crowbars, clubs, bows, submachine guns, and all other 
  small-caliber type weapons are around 2-harm. They’ll seriously wound 
  anybody, and can outright kill some people.
  Shotguns, automatic rifles, axes, machetes, and other big and scary weap-
  ons are about 3-harm. They will kill pretty much anything but the toughest 
  meatheads out there.
  Grenades, heavy rifles, flamethrowers, and other heavy-duty guns and ex-
  plosives are 4-harm. They’ll utterly shred people, and usually more than one 
  person at a time. They’ll also damage weaker ships, though not super effec-
  tively.
  Machine gun fire and rockets hover in the 5- to 6-harm range. They’ll pulp 
  anything that walks instantly, and can deal damage to most ships. 
  
  183
  Most things in this range need to be mounted to work properly, but a few can 
  be toted around by hand.
  7-harm and above is reserved for the biggest, baddest ship-only heavy 
  weapons, like torpedoes, railguns, and plasma cannons. They need only 
  blink at a person to kill them, and can tear through just about anything else 
  with ease.
  Regardless of how much harm a weapon deals, it works basically the same 
  way: when it deals harm to a target, subtract the target’s armor from the 
  weapon’s harm, and then deal that much harm. If a 3-harm shotgun deals 
  harm to a 1-armor pirate, that pirate takes 2-harm; if a 7-harm coilgun deals 
  harm to a 5-hull engine, that engine takes 2-harm. That same shotgun would 
  do nothing to the engine, and that same coilgun would leave nothing but 
  paste of the pirate.
  There are also two other kinds of harm: s-harm, which means “stun,” and 
  e-harm, which means “electronic.”
  S-harm is applied by things like stun guns, paralyzing agents, sudden 
  shocks, that kind of thing. If an NPC gets hit by s-harm, they’re stunned and 
  stuck for quite a while; if a crewmember gets hit with s-harm, they must 
  hold firm first before they can do anything else. S-harm has no effect on 
  ships; it just kinda dings off them.
  E-harm is applied mainly by electromagnetic pulses, which short out all 
  electronics in a given radius but does no actual harm otherwise. These kind 
  of EMP weapons are rare and costly, as they can render a room entirely 
  useless without needing to destroy it. If a ship’s room is hit with e-harm, it 
  counts as being destroyed until it’s repaired or patched. If a person gets hit 
  with e-harm, anything electronic they’re carrying is fried, and then treat it 
  as a hefty dose of s-harm.
  RANGE
  The range of a weapon is how close or far you need to be to your target to 
  deal harm. Range is a constraint, typically; a weapon with far range can only 
  be used at far range, just as hand range can only be used hand-to-hand.
  
  184
  Scalpels, syringes, wire-based weapons, and other unusual implements 
  have a range of intimate. This means that you need to be real close and per-
  sonal with your target, close enough to get at their innards. Being at arm’s 
  reach isn’t close enough, you’ve got to really get inside their personal space 
  for it to be intimate.
  Knives, axes, clubs, close stunners, and other melee weapons have a range 
  of hand. This means you need to be within about arm’s reach to attack with 
  the weapon. Most of them have a haft or handle, so you’ve got a little bit of 
  wiggle room on that, too.
  Pistols, SMGs, shotguns, and most stunners have a range of close. Close is 
  about shouting range, generally. If you can yell to someone and have a real 
  conversation with them, you’re within close range. If they can’t hear you, or 
  if it’s so garbled and distant it’s worthless, you’re out of range.
  Rifles, cannons, and most machine guns have a range of far. Far is where 
  you can see your target, but can’t make much more than basic detail. If you 
  can see the whites of their eyes, you’re too close.
  Heavy ship weaponry and the most intense sniper rifles have a range of 
  extreme. Extreme means that, with the naked eye, you probably can’t see 
  your target as more than a distant speck; it takes binoculars, scanners, or 
  complicated math in order to effectively hit your target. If you can make out 
  any detail on your target whatsoever bare-eyed, you’re too close.
  Lots of weapons have a combined range, like the assault rifle’s close/far, or 
  the plasma cannon’s far/extreme. That means they work at either range just 
  fine. It’s theoretically possible (through a smoker’s kit or some other mod) 
  to have a weapon with a range like close/extreme, but these would be rare 
  and difficult to use effectively.
  WEAPON TAGS
  Weapons have tags, which are modifiers or adjustments to the weapon. 
  Some tags are passive effects, meaning that the weapon has some ongoing 
  effect tacked onto it. Some tags are more active, requiring specific action 
  after certain triggers.
  
  185
  The tags for weapons are:
  Area. When this weapon is used, it covers a big area, and so can hit a whole 
  bunch of people at once. Note that this is people, not rooms—a weapon 
  with the area tag can still only hit one room.
  Autofire. You can optionally use this weapon with the area tag, but after-
  wards you must reload.
  Hellfire. You can optionally use this weapon to hit every single room on a 
  ship at once, but afterwards you must reload. Basically a souped-up auto-
  fire; found only on ship’s guns—it can’t be applied to regular guns.
  Hot. When you make a move using this weapon and roll a miss, the weap-
  on immediately starts burning itself and everything around it. It breaks and 
  must be repaired, and that fire will spread, fast.
  Infinite. You have seemingly limitless quantities of the weapon. You can us-
  expend them as much as you want, and you’ll always have more, no sweat.
  Loud. The weapon is noisy and loud; usually from a gunshot, but maybe 
  something else entirely, like screaming.
  Messy. The weapon is loud, but it also makes a big mess when you use it. It 
  leaves skid marks, spews smoke, or makes a lot of blood and guts.
  No-air. This is a weapon that normally requires air (like a gun), but this ver-
  sion doesn’t, either because it’s hermetically sealed or has been modified 
  specially. This is important because there’s no air in space, normally. (It’s 
  also worth noting that melee weapons never need air to work anyway.)
  Refill. After being used, this weapon needs to be refilled with something 
  special. Ordinary guns can just be reloaded with no worries, but this weapon 
  takes fuel, or poison, or some kind of other kind of rare resource.
  Reload. After being used, you have to take a specific moment to reload the 
  weapon. During that time, you might be exposed to all sorts of nastiness, 
  and you can’t fire it again until you reload.
  Slow. This weapon takes a specific moment to set up, where you might ex-
  pose yourself. Maybe it needs to be wound, or primed, or aimed really well—
  whatever it is, each time you use it, you gotta get set up first.
  
  186
  SHIP’S GUNS
  Ship’s guns, weapons mounts on the guns room (page 116), have a couple of 
  extra special rules:
  The first rule is that all ship’s guns count as having no-air. They’re built 
  specifically to fire in space, and so are equipped with all of the necessary 
  plating and sealants to make sure that works. Sometimes, a ship’s gun is 
  the same as a handheld gun: this doesn’t mean that that specific handheld 
  gun counts as no-air. The gun has to be actually mounted on the ship for it 
  to count.
  The second is that all ship’s guns are mounted, and thus can’t be moved. In 
  order to use them properly, you have to actually go to the guns room and 
  fire them there. Smokers can potentially change this, but for everyone else 
  they’ve got to go there.
  Otherwise, ship’s guns are basically the same. They follow all of the same 
  rules, more or less, they’re just bigger and badder.
  
  187
  WORN GEAR
  There are two kinds of essential worn gear: armor, and space suits. Armor 
  is defensive, meant to protect the wearer from all manner of physical harm. 
  Space suits are suits that allow the wearer to breathe and move in space. 
  Worn gear, unlike weapons, is passive. When you wear that gear, you get the 
  benefits. No active conditions, no triggers, no moves, just perks. It’s simple.
  ARMOR
  Armor, like weapons, comes with a rating. That rating is how effective the ar-
  mor is against physical harm. When you take harm, you subtract your armor 
  from the weapon’s harm, and only take the difference. If you get stabbed 
  with a 2-harm knife and have 1-armor, you take 1-harm. If you had no armor, 
  you’d take 2-harm; if you had 2-armor, you’d take no harm.
  Ordinary clothes, rags, naked skin, and patchwork garments all provide 
  no armor. Bullets and weapons will rip through, punches and kicks aren’t 
  slowed.
  Big heavy leather clothes, clothes with a few plates riveted on, and simple 
  bulletproof vests all provide 1-armor. You can usually hide 1-armor under 
  your clothing, or have it be subtle or basic enough to not attract attention.
  Serious metal plating and Authority-grade body armor provide 2-armor. It’s 
  never subtle, and will almost always attract significant attention if you go 
  walking around in a station or hub wearing it.
  3-armor might theoretically exist, like maybe in some kind of experimen-
  tal Authority mechanized armor or something, but it’s not in the game by 
  default. If the crew does something really exceptional or there’s a bon-
  kers-dangerous enemy there might be 3-armor, but don’t bring it into the 
  game casually.
  
  188
  ARMOR
  Space suits are sealed metal-and-nylon suits that are built to allow you to 
  breathe and travel in space. Most of them have enough oxygen for several 
  hours, and have small jets (or similar) built in to let you get around through 
  empty space, though space suits are usually slow and not very maneuver-
  able.
  Space suits come in two essential varieties: full suits, and pullover suits.
  A full suit is a big heavy contraption, with full-body skin tight containment, 
  distinct torso, limb, and head sections, and a large pack filled with essential 
  accoutrements. They last a long time and are fairly maneuverable, but are 
  heavy and rare. 
  A pullover suit is the opposite: it’s basically a helmet with a loosely-fitted 
  nylon sack attached, plus a can of oxygen. They’re cheap and common, and 
  they let you wear armor and gear under or over it. Almost all independent 
  ships carry at least a few pullover suits, as they make scraping through 
  hulks far easier. Most pullover suits only have enough air for an hour or two, 
  and not much more.
  Both have about the same mechanical effect. If a crewmember has invested 
  in upgrading a full suit, or has one specially made or something, maybe give 
  them slight advantages. Similarly, if a crewmember’s got a suit that’s real 
  shit, cobbled together out of toilet paper and scrap leather, you might con-
  sider making them act fast a bit more often to keep it all together.
  It’s your call, though. Do what feels right.
  
  189
  CONSUMABLE
  GEAR
  Consumable gear is gear that gets used up, it gets consumed. Typically, 
  that means it has limited stocks or supplies that are spent performing some 
  task. Crews will usually buy several of any given consumable, so they can 
  have multiple uses of that same effect.
  There are two common kinds of consumable gear: medpacks and repair kits.
  A medpack is basically a first aid kit: it’s got a bunch of bandages, antibiot-
  ics, painkillers, cleaning alcohol, and some scissors. When a crewmember 
  uses a medpack on themselves or someone else, they instantly heal 1-harm.
  A repair kit is a toolbox full of scrap. It’s got wrenches and pliers and saws, 
  but also spare piping, extra plating, discarded metal, replacement parts, and 
  lots of extra metal around. When a crewmember uses a repair kit on a room, 
  that room instantly heals 1-harm; this can repair destroyed rooms.
  Once a medpack or repair kit is used, it’s used up forever, empty. Gotta make 
  or buy a new one.
  It’s also worth mentioning that every single station, hub, and outpost will 
  sell these. If a crew doesn’t have a greaser or infirmary, these are effective-
  ly the only to repair a room or keep a crewmember alive. They’re pretty damn 
  important, so don’t skimp on who has them.
  
  190
  BUYING AND
  SELLING GEAR
  In any station or outpost, anyone can buy pretty much any basic gear: most 
  personal weapons, most armor, medpacks, repair kits, and supplies. They 
  can also get repairs for their ship or gear from a local mechanic. In a hub, 
  anyone can get any of those, plus all of the rarer things: new ship rooms, 
  any weapon, any armor, exotic goods, that kind of thing.
  By and large, most merchants will sell anything they have, anything off that 
  list. They will, however, only buy gear that’s in good condition and not much 
  used. If the crew finds an armory full of shiny new rifles, those are good 
  to sell; if they’re pulling bloodstained rifles off of pirates half-jammed with 
  rust, no merchant’s gonna buy those.
  Pretty much all basic gear costs 1-credit. Fancy basic gear, like 2-armor or a 
  big bad weapon, might cost 2-credit. Repairing any item costs 1-credit. 
  Ship repairs cost 1-credit per damage, per room. This means that if your 
  size+3 engine room has been hit for 2-harm, it’ll cost 2-credit to repair. This 
  doesn’t fix anything but the engine room, and if you only have 1-credit you’ll 
  only heal 1-harm. 
  It’s not too complicated. Don’t worry yourself.
  
  THE 
  WORLD
  
  192
  HOW WE
  GOT HERE
  Rust Hulks takes place a few hundred years after the present day. It’s “the 
  future!” and any broader details aren’t super necessary. (If your players 
  really beg and moan for an exact date, just go with 2345; it’s good enough.)
  Sometime not too long after the present day, humanity got serious about 
  colonizing the rest of the system. A hundred years or so later, and all of 
  nearby, solid planets and moons had colonies on them. Another hundred 
  years or so, and the rest of the planets had them, too. Human population ex-
  ploded, scientific leaps were made in bounds, and everything was peachy.
  Rust Hulks is set about another hundred years after that. It’s not that there 
  was any one specific catastrophe that brought everything down, just that 
  everything sort of went. We reached the outer bounds of the nearby planets, 
  science’s leaps became puny little hops, and everything got all snarly and 
  rusty. A central Authority rose in power, the rich got richer, and everybody 
  that wasn’t part of that Authority got screwed.
  That’s where we are now. 
  The rest of this chapter has bits of history, detail, and inspiration to help 
  get your brains chugging. It’s meant to answer questions like “Oh God, what 
  even is on Neptune?” and “What kind of stuff does the Authority do?” It 
  doesn’t answer questions like “Which year did humanity first begin atmo-
  spheric adjustment on the Venusian skies?” or “Who’s the current ruler of 
  Luna?” These bits and sections are meant to be evocative, to push you out 
  to invent your own cool stuff for your game—not lock you into specific lore.
  More than anywhere else, this kinda thing is flexible. Change it to suit your 
  game. That said, this is all public information—your players, and their crew, 
  should know the world in its broad strokes as well as you do. Rust Hulks is 
  not a game about secret information, so make this is all well-known.
  
  193
  THE AESTHETIC
  More than history or science or anything else, the vision of the future that 
  Rust Hulks paints is that of a particular aesthetic. Across the system, it’s 
  clear that things were once bright and gleaming and efficient, but now 
  they’re dull and rusted and clunky. We had the great age of science fiction, 
  and this is all the shit that comes afterwards.
  This is sometimes called a “used future” aesthetic: a picture of the future 
  that is not new or innovative, but old, worn, and used. 
  This is true of Rust Hulks. Everything should have wear and tear on it; noth-
  ing should be brand new. When you describe a scene or a ship or a person, it 
  should always be clear that there’s a story behind the facade. Let the cracks 
  show; let the flaws be known.
  When the players interact with or examine an object, be sure to show its use 
  over time. Every object, from spare parts to gear to basic appliances, should 
  be used. Almost everything sold in a market has been owned by at least one 
  person, usually two or three or four. 
  Ships are cobbled together from the hulks of many others; most ships draw 
  major parts from 3-4 others, and minor parts from a dozen others. Rooms on 
  a ship never match; they have different textures and materials, their floors 
  and ceilings don’t line up, and there are sharp edges everywhere. No two 
  ships ever look the same.
  Tools, equipment, and weapons are usually basic, low-tech; they match 
  what we have today. Wrenches, screwdrivers, and hammers are all very 
  common, and more or less what we have now. Guns fire bullets, not plasma 
  or lasers or bolts. Computers are large and clunky and two-tone, used more 
  for landing calculations, data processing, and communications, rather than 
  entertainment or leisure.
  Metal is universal, anywhere and everywhere in the system. Wood is com-
  mon on the solid planets closer to the core, where it’s cheap, but is less 
  
  194
  common further out; it’s just too expensive to grow a whole tree. Plastic 
  is common, used for all of the cheap crap that overwhelms everyday life; 
  it’s less popular for things that need to last. Leather is expensive and thus 
  uncommon, but artificial leather-like nylon is quite popular for straps, bags, 
  armor, and that sort of thing. Basic polyester cloth is common in clothing, 
  and oftentimes in upholstery for seats, couches, and the like. 
  Rust Hulks is a game set after the golden age; the capitalist ideals have 
  collapsed in on themselves. Production has grown unsustainable, and now 
  everyone must fight for the scraps, and make do with what they can.
  Make sure your players feel it.
  Rust Hulks takes place in our possible future; the point of divergence has 
  yet to come. That means that it’s entirely possible for the vision you make 
  of the system in the future to be based off of popular science fiction me-
  dia. When you have a bunch of overly egotistical technocrats with no limits, 
  they can and will model things after the sci-fi that influenced them. Venus 
  always features storms and jungles in media for some reason, so it does in 
  the world, now. Picking through the remains of what came before is a major 
  theme in the game, and that includes media, too.
  MEDIA INFLUENCES
  The other big reigning aesthetic of Rust Hulks is maximalism. Minimalism 
  means “less is more;” maximalism means “more is more.” Ships, above all 
  else, are maximalist: they’re crammed with rooms, passages, tools, spare 
  parts, personal effects, people, and everything else. Let there be no empty 
  space. It’s also reflected in the mechanics of ships, particularly in the room-
  size-as-dice-modifier: bigger is always better. 
  Let this influence you and your players, too. Embrace the late capitalism. 
  Always add more. 
  MAXIMALISM
  
  195
  THE AUTHORITY
  The Authority is the catch-all name for the collection of government bu-
  reaucrats, military commanders, corporate overlords, and other powerful 
  individuals that control the system. They are centered on the Core, in huge 
  sprawling cityscapes that cover the planet’s surface. There is no singular 
  leader or governing body to the Authority, but rather a morass of ambition 
  and ego, all rolled together with wealth and force of arms.
  The Authority exists to maintain control; if it were up to them, every person, 
  ship, and tool would bear their registration numbers, and the Authority could 
  track everyone everywhere. 
  The Core is utterly controlled by the Authority; nothing happens without 
  their knowing it; the same goes for Luna. The nearby planets, Mercury and 
  Venus and Mars, are also firmly under the Authority’s command. Past the 
  Belt, things get a little dicier. The Authority is still present, certainly, but 
  they’re more confined. They operate out of specific offices and barracks, 
  their ships are a minority, and their soldiers can only cover so much ground. 
  Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus—all have Authority presence, but it’s rare. In the 
  deeps, on Neptune and Pluto and beyond, the Authority has minimal control. 
  Hunter ships only get sent out for the most important tasks and the most 
  dangerous targets, and even that is rare. 
  Everywhere that is not under the direct control of the Authority is ruled by 
  gangs, pirates, or warlords. In many cases, these bands are no worse than 
  the Authority, sometimes even better. While some criminal syndicates might 
  span several hubs or even multiple planets, none can possibly hope to match 
  the raw power of the Authority. They might hold sway in one spaceport or 
  other, but a crew with an able ship can nearly always flee.
  The Authority are the exception to the aesthetic of Rust Hulks. Their ships, 
  uniforms, weapons, equipment—all match, according to the master design. 
  The tools of the Authority are sleek, efficient, and identical; their helmets 
  cover their faces, and their ships bear no heraldry. To look upon one Author-
  ity ship is to look upon them all; they are faceless, and thus flawless.
  
  196
  CRIME AND
  THE LAW
  There’s only one law in the system, really: that of the Authority. Whatever 
  the Authority desires is legal; whatever they do not is illegal. If an Authority 
  officer does it, it is legal; if they say that something is illegal, it is. This can-
  not be changed.
  In practice, this means that most things exist in a kind of grey legal area: not 
  necessarily explicitly allowed, but also not immediately disallowed, either. 
  Much of the success of an independent crew relies on their ability to avoid 
  the attention of the Authority. 
  Generally, the Authority doesn’t mind the transport or sale of cheap, com-
  mon goods: foodstuffs, textiles, ore, scrap, that kind of thing. They tend to 
  take an interest in the more expensive, unusual goods: medical supplies, 
  new ship parts, heavy industry, livestock, and other goods along those 
  lines. They will almost certainly stop really valuable stuff: weapons, drugs, 
  advanced tech, and other goods of equal value. Contraband is determined 
  solely by that which the Authority wishes it could sell themselves.
  The transport of people follows roughly the same lines: ordinary travelers 
  and merchants are fine, wealthy elites and specialists are precarious, crim-
  inals and VIPs will almost certainly get stopped. 
  How the crew behaves with regards to the law is up to them. Illegal jobs 
  tend to pay better than legal ones, and ones that directly interfere with the 
  Authority pay even more. Most crews find a place in the middle, straddling 
  the line between legal and not.
  Whichever the crew decides, you should reflect it by how the Authority 
  treats them. Legal crews get stern glances and extra paperwork, and illegal 
  crews get search-and-seizure operations with death warrants. Make sure 
  the crew knows exactly where they stand.
  
  197
  HUBS, 
  OUTPOSTS,
  AND STATIONS
  Most of the system is empty. There are millions of kilometers of nothing 
  space, and most planets are bare rock or gaseous clouds. 
  What little civilization there is can be divided into three rough categories: 
  hubs, outposts, and stations. They all share some traits, but have critical 
  differences.
  Hubs are cities. They are big, bustling, and loud. Every hub has a spaceport 
  big enough for hundreds of ships, sometimes even thousands. Thousands 
  of people live in hubs, occasionally reaching into the millions. The streets 
  themselves are narrow, cramped, and maze-like; buildings twist and sprawl 
  in and around themselves, forming solid masses of construction rising ever 
  higher. Anything can be bought or sold in a hub, and there is always work for 
  able crews with a ship.
  Easily-settled planets like Mars and Venus have dozens of hubs; the Core 
  itself is really just one big hub. Past the Belt, most planets only have a hand-
  ful of big hubs; Neptune and Pluto have maybe one real hub between them.
  Outposts are really just small hubs. They’re towns; docks with enough room 
  for a few dozen ships, populations numbering in the low thousands. They’ll 
  have the bare necessities for sale, certainly, but rare and costly purchases 
  will likely be unavailable. Outposts spring up for all kinds of reasons, but are 
  often found near deposits of natural resources, or other places of impor-
  tance for a chunk of planet. 
  The more settled planets have hundreds of outposts, scattered all over the 
  place. Middling planets will have dozens, maybe reaching a hundred; in the 
  deeps, outposts are really the best thing to hope for. Outposts are also
  
  198
  small enough that they can sometimes be found on larger asteroids, usually 
  havens for pirates in the Belt.
  Critically, both outposts and hubs are both located on solid ground, or at 
  least something approximating it—stations are the opposite.
  A station is a “freestanding” space station, located at a fixed point in space. 
  They have oxygenated interiors, docks for ships to land, and markets to sell 
  at. Bigger stations can be the size of hubs, with their own interior streets 
  and buildings, while smaller ones are little more than a few docks welded 
  onto a single central chamber. Really, the only difference between a hulk 
  and a station is that the station still has enough power to keep its lights. 
  Stations are scattered all over the system in roughly equal density, as both 
  built-up worlds near the Core and isolated deeps planets need them. They 
  serve as refueling stops for freighters, footholds of control for factions, and 
  a place for broken ships to pull in when they desperately need help.
  Beyond hubs, outposts, and stations, most other people live alone, in tiny 
  settlements in the middle of nowhere, or—more likely—in ships. The crew 
  is among this number; they may stop elsewhere, but they truly live on their 
  ship.
  
  199
  MERCURY
  Mercury is a sun-blighted rock.
  It takes Mercury about 90 days (that is, the standard 24-hour Core day, 
  which is the standard that the Authority uses) to rotate around the sun, but 
  its days are about 1400 hours long, or just shy of two months on the Core. 
  The parts that sit in the sun during those two-month days are utterly boiling: 
  they reach over 400 degrees Centigrade (Rust Hulks uses Celsius, since at 
  least in the golden age we dropped the barbaric Imperial system). At night, 
  it can drop beneath -150 degrees; the poles constantly hover around -90. 
  Because of this, most of the permanent hubs and outposts on Mercury sit 
  closer to the poles, and have heavy layers of insulation and artificial at-
  mosphere to keep everybody inside from boiling or freezing to death. The 
  Mercurian locals are generally pretty sangfroid about the whole thing; they 
  mock people from other planets who can’t handle the huge swings in tem-
  perature.
  Planetside, there are thousands of kilometers of nothing, just endless cra-
  ters and barren rockface. Almost nobody sends out land vehicles, because 
  the raw amount of shielding and protection they need from the elements 
  makes them almost totally non-viable. Still, there are enough valuable min-
  erals close to the surface to keep the Authority’s interest, and so Mercury 
  remains an important planet in the system as a whole. 
  There are always travellers that want off of Mercury, so ferrying jobs are 
  easy to come by. It’s close to the Core, so most legal freighters don’t need 
  protection, but illegal ones very well might. Because absolutely nothing 
  can grow on Mercury, there are always foodstuffs being shipped there, and 
  plenty of ore to be hauled back. 
  Mercury’s not a terrible place, all things considered. Hot and cold all at once, 
  and too close to the sun, but not bad otherwise.
  
  200
  VENUS
  Venus was the second planet terraformed, and now it’s filled with lush jun-
  gles, verdant growth, and huge storms. 
  Venus takes about 225 days (again, Core days) to rotate around the sun, or 
  around seven-and-a-half months. It’s very similar in size and shape to the 
  Core, but has two key differences: first, a Venusian day is approximately 
  5832 hours, or roughly 240 days; second, it rotates on the opposite axis to 
  all other planets in the system, meaning the sun rises in the west and sets 
  in the east. 
  These two traits—the longer-than-years days and the inverse sunrise—
  give Venus a perpetually mysterious affect. More than any other planet, 
  what few poets are left write about Venus.
  Even after being terraformed, Venus has the thickest atmosphere of any of 
  the terrestrial planets, by far. This means that it’s always, always hot—
  pre-terraform, the average was around 450 degrees. Nowadays, that’s down 
  to about 50 degrees; blistering hot for people, but manageable. It rains con-
  stantly.
  Venus is covered in hubs and outposts, everywhere. The flora and fauna that 
  grow on the Venusian planetside are valuable for all kinds of reasons, and so 
  vast ranches and farms are common. Being so close to the Core, Authority 
  officers are everywhere, constantly patrolling and observing. 
  For its wealth, security, and balmy climes, Venus has become something of 
  a “resort planet.” It boasts huge, luxurious compounds where the rich and 
  wealthy play, and nobody else ever sees. Independent crews might occa-
  sionally be brought in for hauling cargo or ferrying passengers, but this is a 
  rare occurrence. 
  Venus is a playground for the rich and wealthy, a greenhouse for the Core, 
  and a sweltering, overgrown hellhole for everyone else.
  
  201
  THE CORE
  The Core is the ironclad city, the home of the Authority.
  When the expansion first began, the Core was still called “Earth,” but as 
  the system was claimed and power began to centralize, it eventually took 
  on its name as “the Core,” originally as a title. Eventually, that title became 
  synonymous with the planet, and the name Earth was lost.
  The Core is an endless cityscape. Every available meter of land, water, and 
  sky is bristling with steel skyscrapers. Black smog fills the air. Everything is 
  regimented, industrious, and jam-packed with people. 
  The Authority’s control is absolute, and entirely without question. There is 
  a soldier on every street corner, a watchful eye on every rooftop, and an 
  officer at every desk. Everyone that dwells on the Core is, in same shape or 
  form, a subordinate of the Authority; to attempt to do otherwise would be 
  folly.
  What little plant and animal life exists on the Core is solely within the pent-
  houses and manors of the rich and wealthy; all uncaged living things apart 
  from humans have been long since snuffed out. 
  The Core is filled with factories; all of the natural resources from other plan-
  ets are brought to the Core, and all that gobbled material is spat out as new 
  goods, ships, and weapons. Of course, most people never see those things; 
  nearly all of it goes to fund the Authority’s ever-industrial military expansion 
  efforts. 
  For strictly legal crews, the Core is safe, but tight; there are endless search-
  es and paperwork to be completed, but there is no chance of trouble from 
  outside the law. For crews with anything less than polished legality, there 
  is an opportunity: they can sidestep the clenched fist of regulation, and 
  get things off- or on-planet with ease. There’s a massive risk involved, of 
  course, but there’s plenty of profit to be made as well.
  
  202
  By and large, the Core is a danger to independent crews; the Authority is at 
  its most controlling, and thus most hostile to any that would step outside 
  their law.
  If you’re playing with new players, you should be exceedingly clear with this 
  point. Most experienced players avoid the Core like the plague; new ones 
  might not realize quite how nasty the Authority is.
  Luna, the Core’s moon, houses the Authority’s training facilities and custom 
  shipyards. 
  It’s still just a big grey rock, but the Authority has embraced its lifelessness 
  and developed it into the primary engine of war. Every soldier that serves 
  under the Authority has spent at least some time on Luna, and every ship-
  of-the-line the Authority flies was built, at least in part, on Luna.
  Nearly all crews avoid Luna like the plague. There are hubs and outposts, 
  sure, but every single one is run by Authority military officers, and no crew 
  wants to deal with that. For those willing to run the harebrained risk, howev-
  er, there are all manner of illegal fetches to be made to Luna, usually to steal 
  Authority-grade technology or schematics.
  Luna’s dangerous, but it still holds the dreams of some crews.
  LUNA
  
  203
  MARS
  Mars is a sprawling desert, filled with shipyards and manufacturing plants.
  A Martian day is only just longer than a day on the Core—24 hours and 40 
  minutes. A Martian year, is nearly double, ending up at about 687 days. Mars 
  grows colder than the Core in the winter, dropping down to about -143 de-
  grees, but is roughly as warm, reaching 35 degrees or so during the summer.
  It’s for these reasons, and for its proximity, that Mars was the first planet 
  terraformed by humanity, and so is the most built-up, after the Core. It still 
  has its vast, iconic, red deserts as far as the eye can see, but now has been 
  peppered with towering buildings and enormous drydocks.
  Mars is home to many of the would-be merchant princes and lesser corpo-
  rate interests in the system; it lacks as much rigid structure as the Core, 
  but is still well-protected and very rich, making it ideal. The Martian wealthy 
  dwell in huge towers of steel and glass, while the poor live in sprawling 
  shantytowns and sand-soaked outposts.
  Mars is a common stopping point for crews of all varieties; for more criminal 
  crews, it is the closest they will get to the Core, while it makes a convenient 
  stepping-off point for those that are more legal. Jobs of all stripes and for all 
  clients are readily available: hauls and fetches of cargo, escorts for myriad 
  merchants, hits on opposing interests, and ferries for all manner of people.
  DEIMOS & PHOBOS
  Deimos and Phobos are Mars’ two moons; both are miniscule, less than 30 
  kilometers in diameter each, more like large asteroids than anything else.
  In many ways, the two moons are more like an extension of the Belt than 
  anything else. For the criminal interests that look to earn some Mars’ great 
  wealth but avoid the Authority’s reach, Deimos and Phobos are ideal.
  They are, however, less comfortable. No terraforming, crummy outposts, 
  and both are swarming with pirates and cutthroats.
  
  204
  THE BELT
  The Belt, more formally the Asteroid Belt, is a ring of a couple million aster-
  oids that circle the sun, located roughly halfway between Mars and Jupiter. 
  Most are small, with only a handful—Ceres, Vesta, Pallas, and Hygeia—
  being big enough to approximate petite moons. The rest are less than 100 
  kilometers in diameter, most far less.
  Contrary to more popular imagery, the asteroids of the Belt are spaced pret-
  ty far apart. It’s usually thousands, if not tens or hundreds of thousands, 
  of kilometers between them. They can still definitely hit a ship, and cause 
  serious problems when they do, but the depiction of weaving in and out of a 
  sea of rocks is not particularly accurate.
  Despite this—or perhaps because of it—the Belt is overrun with pirates. 
  Many, many asteroids house a ship or two, ready to spring out as soon as 
  an unsuspecting merchant drifts by. All ships should expect trouble when 
  passing through the Belt, though because most pirates only have one ship, 
  heavily-armed crews or very fast crews shouldn’t have too much trouble.
  Due to these long decades of piracy, the Belt now has also taken on hun-
  dreds of thousands of hulks as well, some of which are still intact. Scav-
  engers are also highly common in the Belt, picking through the wreckage, 
  both free-floating and buried in asteroids, looking for the choicest morsels. 
  Crews that need scrap might do worse than stop in the Belt for a time to 
  scrape up what they can.
  The Belt also marks the border of the Authority’s tightest control. As soon 
  as its crossed, encounters with the Authority become the exception, rath-
  er than the rule. Their hunters and bases are still fairly common, but it’s 
  entirely possible for ships to fly without expecting to encounter them. The 
  Belt marks a natural border to their best-kept territory, and so the Authority 
  rarely pushes in significant force beyond it.
  
  205
  JUPITER
  Jupiter is an enormous giant, composed of endless storms.
  Jupiter’s first and mightiest of the gas giants, meaning that rather than have 
  any solid material at the surface, it is simply raging stormcloud. It’s worth 
  noting that whole it’s described as a “gas giant,” the average density of 
  the planet is thicker than that of water. The gas that makes up the planet’s 
  surface is more like a heavy smog or viscous rain than anything else; it’s 
  not fluffy by any means. It’s wracked by storms near-constantly, averaging 
  about 360 kph.
  Jupiter’s years are long, lasting almost 12 Core years. On the flipside, Jovian 
  days are short, just shy of 10 hours long. It also bears mentioning that Ju-
  piter is enormous. It’s about 1/1000th the size of the sun, which also means 
  that it’s about two and a half times the size of every other planet in the 
  system put together. It’s utterly gigantic; whatever you describe, it’s bigger 
  than that.
  There may be some truth to this: while they’re still referred to as hubs and 
  outposts, as they are roughly “planetside” and move with the planet’s ro-
  tation and orbit, Jupiter’s hubs and outposts stand on no solid ground. They 
  float, just beneath the highest clouds of gas, kept aloft by enormous thrust-
  ers and the orbit of the planet itself.
  Nearly all settlements on Jupiter are based around the gas mines; Jupiter 
  has nearly endless supplies of helium, which are constantly being mined 
  and used as fuel for other ships. These mines need operation around the 
  clock, and so the settlements naturally grow up around them; the biggest 
  ones are as large as Martian or Venusian hubs.
  The Authority works its hardest to maintain these mining settlements as 
  their own, but it’s not universal; some have shifted owners, falling into the 
  hands of merchants or syndicates, who turn and sell the helium for profit. 
  
  206
  For crews, as with everyone else, Jupiter is a risky proposition: there’s mon-
  ey to be made in hauling or stealing the gas, absolutely, but between the 
  storms and the Jovians tendency to fight tooth and nail, it’s no sure thing.
  JOVIAN MOONS
  Jupiter has four big moons: Io, Ganymede, Europa, and Callisto. They’re all 
  a few thousand kilometers in diameter, and all have at least something of 
  an atmosphere and a bit of terraforming. There are also several dozen oth-
  er, smaller satellites of Jupiter, most of which are pretty small and mostly 
  house pirates and scavengers looking to pick off merchant ships.
  The four big moons are well-settled, each boasting a handful of hubs and a 
  scattering of outposts. They’re much friendlier than Jupiter proper, and so 
  are a much more common waystop for freighters, either ones going through 
  the Belt towards Mars, or else further outwards. 
  On the four moons, of course, the uptick in population and settlement means 
  that there are more Authority officers and ships crawling around. Likewise, 
  however, there are also more criminal elements, and thus things are more 
  balanced. 
  Most crews that are looking to stop on Jupiter will head for the moons in-
  stead, rather than risk the stormy planetside. The moons have most jobs 
  available, as they, like Mars, serve as a major way-stop for all stripes of 
  travellers.
  
  207
  SATURN
  Saturn is a light and airy planet, ringed by a hive of corsairs and buccaneers.
  Saturn is the planet that “gas giant” most aptly describes; it is huge, sec-
  ond-largest after Jupiter, but its surface gases are less dense than water, 
  making it akin to fog or mist. Saturn’s years last almost thirty Core years, 
  but its days, like Jupiter’s, are about 10 and a half hours long. While there 
  are still storms that wrack Saturn’s surface, they are far less constant and 
  far less fearsome than Jupiter’s. 
  At first glance, this might seem to make it more appealing for outposts and 
  hubs on the surface, but the truth is that it simply makes them less neces-
  sary. The mining settlements do still exist, certainly, but Saturn contains 
  far less helium and other valuable gases than Jupiter, and thus is far less 
  thickly settled. 
  Due to the Rings, most of those mines are not controlled by the Authority, 
  either. Instead, they prefer to lurk near the poles and along the fringes of the 
  Rings, preying on weaker merchants and seizing their cargo. It’s a strange 
  inversion of piracy, one that grows ever more common as you get further 
  from the Core.
  It’s usually only the most legitimate of crews that land planetside proper on 
  Venus. The rest of them just to the Rings.
  THE RINGS OF SATURN
  The Rings of Saturn, almost always just called “the Rings,” are a collection 
  of satellites that orbit Saturn. There are a bunch of asteroid-sized ones, a 
  moon called Titan, millions of chunks of ice, and thousands of broken and 
  battered hulks. They orbit the equator of Saturn, packed together very tight-
  ly; it’s pretty much impossible to fly into the Rings without nudging aside 
  some bits of ice and busted scrap.
  The Rings are, simply put, the biggest bunch of settlements that are outside 
  the purview of the Authority. Titan itself is coated with small hubs and 
  
  208
  outposts, all of which belong to a different local pirate lord, criminal gang, 
  or band of brigands. Likewise, each of the larger satellites, be they natural 
  or artificial, has been claimed by some crew or other, and is thus guarded 
  with jealousy. 
  There is both constant trade and constant infighting inside the Rings; the 
  only thing that brings both to a stop is an Authority incursion. These are rare, 
  however, as its difficult to bring force to bear against a thousand different 
  settlements all at once, especially when each tiny criminal crew knows it is 
  its best interest to ally against the Authority.
  The Rings are a popular destination; they’re really among the last few hold-
  outs of civilization before reaching the deeper parts of the system. Anything 
  can be bought or sold somewhere in the Rings, and so any merchant willing 
  to turn a blind eye can easily ply their trade. Likewise, strange cultures, 
  people, and machines develop out in the Rings, where no law governs them. 
  Icy, bizarre wonders are whispered about, formed of rock and metal and the 
  cold itself.
  For independent crews willing to skirt the law, there is always work of all 
  varieties to be had in the Rings.
  
  209
  URANUS
  Uranus is icy, bitter cold, full of strange wonders and desperate settlements.
  Like the other gas giants, Uranus’ surface is fluid comprised of swirling gas-
  es; there’s no physical surface to land on other than the hubs and cities 
  that float above it. What’s different is that the inner parts of Uranus are far 
  colder, meaning it has an ice-like quality to it; Uranus and Neptune both are 
  considered to be “ice giants.” Average surface temperature is about -225 
  degrees.
  A Uranian year takes about 84 Core years to complete; a Uranian day is about 
  17 hours long. One distinct quirk of Uranus is that it sits at a different axis 
  to the rest of the planets; its equator is at a roughly right angle to its orbit. 
  This means that for each quarter of the Uranian year, 21 Core years, the sun 
  shines directly at one of the poles, plunging the other half into a winter of 
  darkness.
  Uranus marks the rough border between the “frontier” worlds, just past the 
  Belt, and the “deep” worlds, which include Neptune, Pluto, and anything be-
  yond. Due to spending so much time in perpetual darkness, the Uranian lo-
  cals are tough, bitter, and strange. Some people say that they go mad being 
  the dark for so long, while others say that they’re all haunted by the things 
  they see, so far away from the light.
  For its part, the Authority has little interest in Uranus. Its atmosphere is 
  mostly methane, far less valuable than helium, and so it’s used more as a 
  waystop than anything else. On rare occasions it might serve as a staging 
  ground for an incursion further from the sun, but this is a rare thing. 
  Crews looking to indulge the stranger elements of humanity might easily 
  find work on Uranus. For those that are more grounded, however, many of 
  the offers might seem bizarre or nonsensical. 
  
  210
  URANIAN MOONS
  Uranus has dozens of small moons, and five large ones: Miranda, Ariel, Um-
  briel, Titania, and Oberon. They’re small, relatively speaking, usually only 
  a few hundred kilometers in diameter, but they’ve all been terraformed in 
  places. Hubs and outposts are far more common on the moons, and each of 
  the moons sees more regular light than the mainland of Uranus.
  As you might imagine, the Authority has significant presence on the moons; 
  Saturn’s Rings are too hostile to serve as a forward base, and so the Ura-
  nian moons do, instead. Given how far out they are, the moons have a high 
  number of soldiers and hunters about, none of whom value the lives of the 
  Uranians. 
  Crews that are wary of the frigid depths of Uranus often come instead to the 
  moons. The clientele’s weirder than the Rings or the Jovians, but they pay 
  well enough. Hauls, fetches, and hits are all common, but escorts and ferries 
  moreso—lots of people want off the moons.
  
  211
  NEPTUNE
  Neptune, by and large, is just the worst. 
  A Neptunian year is about 165 Core years; some people will see one Nep-
  tunian year complete, many others won’t—some people won’t even see a 
  full season. A Neptunian day is about 16 hours; it’s about 90,000 Neptunian 
  days to the year. Neptune averages about -200 degrees, so it’s warmer than 
  Uranus, but is far stormier: its winds average around 2200 kph, more than 
  six times faster than Jupiter’s. 
  The winds render Neptune borderline-uninhabitable for everything but the 
  largest, heaviest, and most intense floating hubs. There are only a handful 
  of these hubs, and less than half are controlled by the Authority. They were 
  originally set up for helium mines, but those functions have been largely 
  abandoned in favor of increased mining on Jupiter instead.
  A few truly unhinged pirates and scavengers attempt to ride the winds of 
  Neptune, hurtling along with minimal control. This is highly fuel-efficient, 
  except that it’s quite difficult to break free of the winds once they’ve been 
  entered. Most such wind-pirates do not survive.
  Neptune, broadly, is considered the start of the “deeps,” the farther reaches 
  of the solar system, where things get very strange indeed. Most social cus-
  toms break down, there’s less light, and everyone is bitter and grim. Jobs 
  on Neptune are slim. There’s little hauling work to be had, and there’s little 
  enough to care about planetside, so fetches and hits are slight, too. Most 
  common work is ferries and escorts for people looking to get out, quick as 
  they can.
  The population also tanks at Neptune and beyond. The frontier worlds are 
  reasonably well populated, and the core ones are packed, but Neptune and 
  Pluto are barren. The hubs are small, the outposts smaller, and both are far-
  ther and fewer between. No one loves the deeps.
  
  212
  TRITON
  Triton is Neptune’s moon; there are a handful of small others, but Triton is 
  the largest by far, without question. 
  It’s a giant lump of ice, basically. The surface is comprised primarily of large, 
  icy sheets, dotted here and there with outposts and the occasional hub. 
  It’s one of the coldest places in the system, on average, typically hovering 
  around -235 degrees. Triton’s also bigger than most moons, coming in at 
  about 1500 kilometers in diameter. 
  Desperate crews and desperate people come to Triton. The Authority rarely 
  touches down, instead preferring to hunt at a distance. Everything is cold all 
  the time, and the buildings freeze into the ice. There’s always need for food 
  to come in, and there are always people wanting out.
  The only thing that can be said for Triton, frankly, is that at least it’s not 
  Neptune. 
  
  213
  PLUTO
  Yes, I know the IAU says it’s not a planet anymore, I don’t give a damn. 
  Pluto is home to freaks, outcasts, and whatever other aberrants wash up.
  Pluto itself is rocky and icy, and small. It’s smaller than every other planet 
  by far, smaller even than Luna. A Plutonian day is about 150 hours, or just 
  over 6 Core days; a Plutonian year is about 248 years. It’s frigid, averaging 
  around -240 degrees, but it also shares Uranus’ off-kilter axis, meaning that 
  its winters plunge a quarter of the planet into darkness, and its summers 
  leave a quarter of the planet covered in light. These seasons last more than 
  60 years.
  Most people in the system never go to Pluto. It has its own, strange culture, 
  with discomforting rituals and anomalous customs. It is a harbor for all of 
  the people in the system that, for whatever reason, could not bear to be 
  anywhere else. It’s an icy, dark, and unknown harbor, but harbor still.
  The Authority barely touches Pluto. It is so far removed from their sphere of 
  influence, and has such little impact, most consider it simply not worth the 
  effort. Their hunter ships may drift by from time to time, but it has no real 
  presence.
  Even now, speculations about what lies on Pluto run wild. Tales from sailors 
  and freighters grow with the long hours of travel, and so very few people 
  have hard facts. And, honestly, what might be true at one outpost—as Pluto 
  has no hubs—may very well be false elsewhere. Pluto maintains its mys-
  tery, and its inhabitants would have it no other way.
  
  214
  BEYOND
  There are other celestial bodies beyond Pluto. Charon, Styx, Nix, Hydra, Eris, 
  the Kuiper Belt—these and many others all lie further, deeper into the dark. 
  There are hulks that have been knocked or launched from orbit, too, hurtling 
  into the wild dark yonder.
  No one knows, really, what lies beyond. There are other solar systems, yes, 
  with other planets and moons and suns, but no one has ever seen them up 
  close. Would-be explorers sometimes venture out, aboard ships kitted for 
  months of travel; sometimes they return with nothing, sometimes they don’t 
  return at all. 
  For most crews, the beyond holds little of interest. There are no jobs, no cli-
  ents, and no credits out there. The endless black is just that—utterly with-
  out end, and utterly dark. It’s difficult enough for most crews to make it a 
  single span, let alone wander aimlessly out into the eternal night.
  Still, inside the hearts of many people, the dream to explore still exists. To 
  board a ship and set course for the great unknown, to see what lies beyond 
  the ken of humanity.
  Here be dragons.
  
  HACK- 
  ING
  THE
  GAME
  
  216
  CHANGING
  THE SETTING
  On paper, this is a game about spaceships. Really, though, it’s not. It’s a 
  game about a giant-ass machine that you’re trying to keep together. You 
  know the War Rig in Mad Max? The one that they’re driving for basically the 
  entire movie? That’s a ship in Rust Hulks.
  You can do this for all kinds of settings. Anything where there’s importance 
  placed on a large, rickety machine that moves, and you can really hack Rust 
  Hulks into it. Spaceships, boats, zeppelins, mechs, whatever. It’s really not 
  all that hard to hack these rules on.
  A couple of suggestions:
  • If your setting is about driving giant sandcrawlers through the desert, 
  you might be playing Dust Hulks.
  • If your setting is about huge drill-based machines digging deep into the 
  earth, you might be playing Crust Hulks.
  • If your setting is about big, breezy airships that sail across the skies, 
  you might be playing Gust Hulks.
  • If your setting is about towering mecha-knights travelling across the 
  realm administering the law, you might be playing Just Hulks.
  • If your setting is about rickety, spindley contraptions with a kind of, like, 
  grandmotherly mothball flavor, you might be playing Must Hulks.
  You get the idea; I’ll let you work out Thrust Hulks, Trussed Hulks, Disgust 
  Hulks, and Nonplussed Hulks for yourself.
  Point is, the vehicle rules are pretty adaptable. Engines can become sails or 
  propellers or legs; guns can become cannons or sword-arms or ballistae or 
  something. As long as it’s a machine with separate parts you can set up as 
  rooms, you’re good to go. The playbooks will take a little bit of tweaking, but 
  it can be done.
  
  217
  NEW MOVES
  Moves come in different flavors:
  • Active moves, like the envoy’s peacemaker, or the runner’s cut and run. 
  They very specifically add new abilities and stuff the crewmember can 
  do, stuff outside the bounds of normal moves.
  • Passive moves, like the bruiser’s not on my turf, or the greaser’s well-
  learned. They add flat, passive bonuses, sometimes with specific nar-
  rative constraints.
  • Substitute-y modifier-y moves, like the sawbones’ practical surgery, or 
  the smoker’s no bullshit. These let you swap in one stat for another one, 
  usually under specific circumstances.
  • “Extra stuff” moves, like the tech’s audio-neural interlinks, or the jock-
  ey’s autonav relay. They add some extra stuff for the playbook use, 
  usually outside of specific mechanical increase.
  There are a bunch of other kinds of moves, too, ones that break these rules 
  or morph them or otherwise add on other stuff. These are just some of the 
  most common types.
  You should feel free to make up new moves. Maybe you’ve got a jockey that 
  really wants a specific maneuver they can pull, or a smoker that wants to 
  soup up a gun in a cool new way, or a tech that wants some newfangled bit 
  of science. All fine. 
  Remember that most moves have triggers: the “when you do X” of the move. 
  A lot of these, especially for the basic moves, are just “when you do this 
  thing,” but some of them are more specific, requiring certain fictional posi-
  tioning or constraints or requirements. These are all good.
  If you’re in need of inspiration, look at other “Powered by the Apocalypse” 
  games. They use the same rough kinds of moves, and you can crib from the 
  good ones (like me when I made this game).
  You can and should hack in new stuff to your game. It’s good, it gets you 
  thinking, and it pushes you to new heights. I believe in you.
  
  218
  ADDING
  PLAYBOOKS
  For some players, the nine playbooks aren’t enough. They want more, or 
  something different. That’s cool. Sometimes, you get a rad idea that doesn’t 
  quite fit into what’s here already. That’s cool, too.
  Making new playbooks is tricky. The nine here are based off of a mix of media 
  touchstones, mechanical demands, and my own instincts on what I thought 
  was cool. Each playbook its own kind of “thing”: bruisers smack people 
  around, junkers make new shit, jockeys fly the ship. On paper, there’s some 
  overlap between these (bruiser vs. smoker, say, or greaser vs. junker), but 
  part of what makes a good playbook is that it still feels distinct to play.
  When you make a new playbook, there are basically [x] things you need:
  • Moves. The playbook moves themselves, and also the Captaincy move.
  • Gear. Starting weapons and stuff, plus any custom gear they get, like 
  the smoker or junker’s kit.
  • Look. Every playbook should feel a little distinct visually, make it stand 
  out a bit. They’re scrappy and shitty, but have vestiges of other things.
  • Contacts. You need to pick a stat, then you also need some sample 
  NPCs, the kind of thing an archetypal crewmember of that playbook 
  might run into.
  • Dedicated room. It’s possible they’ll need a new room (see the next 
  page).
  • XP triggers and advancements. These aren’t too different, but they help 
  nail down exactly how the playbook should feel.
  It’s also worth mentioning that you should only endeavor to make a new 
  playbook if you really feel like it’s the right thing to do. If some newish play-
  er is harassing you about wanting new custom abilities that just happen 
  to always deal +2 harm, tell them to fuck off. Design when it’s good for the 
  game, not because a player’s badgering you.
  
  219
  NEW ROOMS
  You can also add new rooms to the ship! There are all kinds of weird and 
  unusual things you might come up with a for spaceship, which definitely 
  wouldn’t be included in a standard game.
  Rooms basically need a, like, “passive function,” in that the engines make 
  the ship go and the helm steers the ship and the cargo has physical space or 
  whatever. Then, once you’ve got that established, they need their own room 
  move, which is where the real juicy meat of the room comes in.
  In one of our playtests, a player wanted to be a really melee-focused Bruis-
  er, and didn’t think that the boarding dock was enough. So, naturally, he 
  lobbied me and the junker to help him make a giant claw that could grab onto 
  other ships. It had a move that looked like this:
  When you attach to another ship with the claw, roll+size. On a 7-9, 
  one of these is true; on a 10+, both:
  • the other ship can’t move
  • your ship doesn’t take damage in the process.
  On a miss, neither of these is true.
  Yeah, it was fast and messy, but it worked. It got the point across well, and 
  the player was overjoyed to have a giant claw arm on their ship. 
  If you’re swapping around the setting of the game, you might also need new 
  rooms for that. A game of Gust Hulks might need a specific “sail” room, for 
  example, that lets the crew get extra speed. A game of Crust Hulks might 
  need a drill to both move and harvest gemstones, one separate from the 
  engines. A game of Just Hulks might need a specific command room, where 
  you can look out of the mech’s head and see what’s going on.
  All of these and more are fine and good. You should always feel free to hack 
  on extra rooms and tidbits to make your game more exciting and engaging.
  Do it. I believe in you.
  
  220
  
  ACK-
  NOWL-
  EDGE-
  MENTS
  
  222
  THANKS
  I have to thank my original band of playtesters: Sam Belisle, John Blau, Will 
  Gajewski, William Gallagher, Patrick Geaslin, David Joy, Rohit Kaushik, Kaleb 
  Kronimus, Dom Liotti, Tadeo Menichelli, Jacob Poirier, Allie Sangalli, and Kay 
  Schwenk. They were the crews of the first four ships: the Bad Larry, the 
  Mrs Higgins, the Breadbox, and the Red November. Without them, this game 
  wouldn’t be half of what it is now.
  I owe a huge amount to my sage council: Trent Hergenrader, Steve Jacobs, 
  Elouise Oyzon, and David Simkins. They helped me and this game both grow, 
  advance, and move to new heights.
  I’d like to thank the online communities of the Gauntlet, r/rpgdesign, and the 
  general indie RPG Twitter scene hanging around #rpgtheory and lyric games 
  on itch.io. They were serious help in getting early feedback, pushing new 
  concepts, and bouncing ideas around.
  I owe very special gratitude to Avery Alder, Vincent Baker, Emily Care Boss, 
  and Jason Morningstar. Obviously, their games were and are hugely influ-
  ential, but they also helped get this game off the ground in a very real way. 
  I of course have to thank my parents, too, for believing in me this far.
  
  223
  LUDOGRAPHY
  Rust Hulks is, obviously, based on Apocalypse World. There’s about a 90% 
  chance any given move is based on something out of that game.
  What follows is a very non-complete list of games and designers that I was 
  influenced by, drew inspiration from, or shamelessly cribbed:
  • Get in a fight and the get-XP-for-failing are straight out of Adam Koebel 
  and Sage LaTorra’s Dungeon World.
  • I got the XP-for-playbook-specific-actions out of John Harper’s Blades 
  in the Dark, which in turn comes from Luke Crane’s The Burning Wheel.
  • The whole idea for rooms as distinct entities comes from Subset Games’ 
  FTL.
  • Scrape a hulk is based on a move from the “Advanced Fuckery” chapter 
  of Apocalypse World, specifically made by John Harper.
  • Get paid is ripped more or less wholesale from Hamish Cameron’s The 
  Sprawl.
  • Contacts is based on an ability that the Speaker gets in Stras Acimovic 
  and John LaBeouf-Little’s Scum & Villainy. Scum is a Blades hack, and 
  that ability in particular is probably from some other game. 
  • Personalities for rooms is pulled from plane personalities in Jason Morn-
  ingstar’s Night Witches.
  Like I said, that list is super non-complete. There’s a high chance something 
  in this game is pulled from somewhere else.
  
  224
  KICKSTARTER
  These are the people who were bold, foolish, and generous enough to back 
  Rust Hulks on Kickstarter, not only at the basic tiers, but beyond:
  BACKERS
  Alex Cartwright, Alonzoeh Stone, Bluejay, Christopher McDonough, Craig Hin-
  dle, Daniel Crisp, David E. Dalton, Derek Bollman, Devon “All Daggers” An-
  derson, Eli Martin, Elite Planning Crew, Ezra Forsyth, Jason Bostwick, John 
  Taber, Joseph Siegel, James Haikney, Marc “Fugitive Unknown” Thompson,  
  Martin E Stein & Scott A Saxon, Michael Pelletier, Michael Sattler, Mike Col-
  lins, Milcheax MacLear, Mischa D. Krilov, Nic Bové, Perrin “Starhiker” Rynning, 
  Pete Rivera, Piotr “ThePiachu” Piasecki, Professor Weez, Ravenstead, Rob-
  ert Mittel-Carey, Story Games Westchester, Stu Masterson, T. Stacy, Thomas 
  McGrenery, Trent Kelly, Tyler Curry, Will Robot, William Gallagher, zero ring 
  circus
  Many thanks. May your pockets never empty and your engines never tire.
  
  INDICES
  
  226
  USEFUL TABLES
  WHAT’S THE CARGO FOR THE HAUL?
  1
  Livestock, mostly cows and pigs
  OR New ship engine prototypes
  2
  Bolts of luxury fabrics and silks
  OR Vacuum-sealed foodstuffs
  3
  High-grade medicinal opiates
  OR Purified water in huge barrels
  4
  Crates of Authority-made guns
  OR Sealed, secret documents
  5
  Sheets of recycled metals
  OR Drums of engine fuel
  6
  A person, cryogenically sealed
  OR Refurbished spacesuits
  WHO’S THE PASSENGER FOR THE FERRY?
  1
  Someone who hides their face
  OR Three orphan children, alone
  2
  A group of itinerant workers
  OR A princeling from the Core
  3
  An Authority officer-at-large
  OR A pair of engrossed lovers
  4
  A band of very casual criminals
  OR A known Authority fugitive
  5
  A professional gambler
  OR A crewmember’s ex-partner
  6
  Two corporate consultants
  OR A stowaway with a sob story
  WHO’S THE CLIENT FOR THE ESCORT?
  1
  A fat, rich merchant vessel
  OR Several passenger barges
  2
  A sheltered kid’s pleasure cruise
  OR An Authority bigwig’s ship
  3
  A Core fat cat’s party yacht
  OR A deep-space surveyor craft
  4
  A pair of bounty hunter sloops
  OR A mobile mining refinery
  5
  A scavenger that struck gold
  OR A pirate ketch on the run
  6
  A newly-refurbished hulk
  OR A station that needs to relocate
  CATCH-ALL JOB EMPLOYERS
  1
  A ruthless corporate agent
  2
  An officer of the Authority
  3
  A scrapper or junk-trawler
  4
  An underworld crime boss
  5
  A local station or hub ruler
  6
  A stranger, hooded and masked
  
  227
  WHO OR WHAT IS THE TARGET OF THE HIT?
  1
  A debtor that couldn’t pay
  OR The local crew of pirates
  2
  A criminal syndicate’s top boss
  OR An Authority hunter-captain
  3
  A fugitive from the Authority
  OR A scandalous, unfaithful lover
  4
  A rival corporation’s shipment
  OR A bar serving as a criminal front
  5
  An outpost’s mining operation
  OR A factory’s new prototype
  6
  An Authority listening post
  OR A fast-approaching asteroid
  WHO OR WHAT IS THE TARGET FOR THE FETCH?
  1
  A parent’s wayward child
  OR A syndicate’s imprisoned boss
  2
  A rich corporate executive
  OR A lead weapons engineer
  3
  A scavenger with too much cred
  OR An Authority investigator
  4
  Blueprints for a spacesuit
  OR A big old box of credsticks
  5
  A shipment of explosives
  OR Crates of rare metal ore
  6
  A crime boss’s prized pet cat
  OR An Authority hunter ship
  1
  Grimy, worn-down jumpsuit
  2
  Patchwork cloth jacket
  3
  Welded scrap metal armor
  4
  Mass-produced cheap suit
  5
  Threadbare repainted poncho
  6
  Grafted rubber spacesuit
  CLOTHING & LOOKS
  1
  Gaunt or haggard or bony
  2
  Plump or rotund or voluminous
  3
  Muscular or stout or broad
  4
  Tattooed or scarred or pierced
  5
  Lean or chiseled or stringy
  6
  Waxy or glistening or slick
  FACE & APPEARANCE
  1
  Bright or wild or round
  2
  Sharp or piercing or narrow
  3
  Misty or distant or glassy
  4
  Vibrant or colorful or stark
  5
  Deep or somber or mournful
  6
  Puffy or bloodshot or missing
  EYES & VIBES
  1
  Stained, notched boarding axe
  2
  Blackened, leaky blowtorch
  3
  Rickety, re-welded shotgun
  4
  Bent, grimy monkey wrench
  5
  Sparking, twitchy stunner
  6
  Dripping, pockmarked welder
  WEAPONS & TOOLS
  
  228
  1
  Layers of clattering keyboards
  2
  Huge arrays of blinking buttons
  3
  A dome of computer terminals
  4
  A switchboard covered in dials
  5
  A crank-operated ops console
  6
  Endless wires and cables
  SYSTEMS & OPS
  1
  Smoky, smelly, and chugging
  2
  Glowing, blue, and humming
  3
  Fiery, sweltry, and roaring
  4
  Wet, slippery, and spattering
  5
  Gear-heavy, shiny, and clicking
  6
  Rusty, sharp, and grinding
  ENGINE & THRUSTERS
  1
  Charred, sooty, and blackened
  2
  Smooth, reflective, and sleek
  3
  Spiky and covered in chains
  4
  Bulky, dull, and geometric
  5
  Refit, patched, and layered
  6
  Covered in myriad greebles
  HULL & EXTERIOR
  1
  A fitted metal box for one
  2
  A cracked leather swivel chair
  3
  An old 360-degree VR room
  4
  A wall of switchboards
  5
  A single joystick and porthole
  6
  A hexagonal steering wheel
  HELM & COCKPIT
  1
  An oversized harpoon cannon
  2
  A glimmering blue plasma gun
  3
  A heavy rotating chaingun
  4
  Shark-painted torpedo rack
  5
  A cylindrical flak cannon
  6
  An electromagnetic railgun
  SHIP’S GUNS
  1
  All catwalks and grilled floors
  2
  Shipping crates fused together
  3
  An entire hulk, gutted and refit
  4
  A single enormous steel crate
  5
  An old inactive shuttle
  6
  A giant net bolted onto the ship
  CARGO HOLD
  1
  Knotty, mildewy hammocks
  2
  An old cargo hold’s slabs
  3
  Cryochambers, re-upholstered
  4
  Bunk beds, four to a rack
  5
  Rubber mats on metal bunks
  6
  Thick shag carpet on the floor
  BUNKS
  1
  An infirmary, run out of drugs
  2
  Bolt-holes behind air vents
  3
  An armory with only knives
  4
  A shuttle made out of wood
  5
  A jetway-turned-boarding-dock
  6
  A mysterious, bare, empty room
  EXTRA STUFF
  
  229
  1
  A hollowed-out asteroid
  2
  Several hulks lashed together
  3
  An ancient mining refinery
  4
  Refurbished NASA-era station
  5
  A glass-and-steel sphere
  6
  A prefab corporate station
  STATION
  1
  A single old apartment complex
  2
  Cluster of tiny wooden shacks
  3
  An overgrown refueling stop
  4
  Abandoned mining shafts
  5
  An Authority training compound
  6
  A hulk, crashed planetside
  OUTPOST
  1
  Glass towers piercing the clouds
  2
  Maze of concrete and rebar
  3
  Identical prefab cubicle-homes
  4
  Underground hive of corridors
  5
  Web of canals and alleyways
  6
  Tiered, many-decked platforms
  HUB
  1
  Plasma capsules, now leaking
  2
  Sputtering electrical batteries
  3
  A hulk with still-active engines
  4
  An Authority drone gone rogue
  5
  Clouds of detritus and spacesilt
  6
  An oncoming fiery asteroid
  SPACEBORNE HAZARD
  1
  Investigator, from Inquiries
  2
  Enforcer, from Compliance 
  3
  Assault Designer, from R&D
  4
  Judge-At-Large, from Ethics
  5
  Sergeant, from Marine Corps
  6
  Hunter, from Public Bounties
  AUTHORITY AGENT, DEPARTMENT
  1
  Red-painted spiky hull; pirates
  2
  Chrome, winged hull; nobility
  3
  Dull hull; plainclothes Authority
  4
  Damaged broken hull; junkers
  5
  Blocky, ugly hull; syndicate
  6
  Bright lights; local wreckers
  UNKNOWN SHIP
  WHAT’S ON THIS HULK?
  1
  A double-V radiation battery
  OR A beta-level fragmentation pod
  2
  Six capsules of oxoethanoic acid
  OR A crate of helium fuel casks
  3
  The barrel of a “hydra” cannon
  OR A dozen new motherboards
  4
  Four ultra-dense protein bars
  OR Thirty feet of undamaged cable
  5
  A case of polymer jackets
  OR Three engine pistons, still good
  6
  A fifth of high-grade grog
  OR A still-living plant terrarium
  
  230
  A friend in need, [greaser], 40, 129; heat, heat for brain
  Act fast, [basic], 76; gut
  Alpha dog, [captain], 96; spine
  Analyze something, [basic], 72; brain
  Armory, [armory], 117; size for face
  Artificer, [smoker], 60, 140; effect
  Ask questions later, [runner], 52, 136; gut
  Audio-neural interlinks, [tech], 64, 143; bonus
  Autonav relay, [jockey, helm], 44, 132; bonus
  Black ops, [bruiser, armory], 32, 124; bonus
  Black-hearted, [runner], 52, 137; effect
  Bloodbath, [bruiser], 32, 125; heat for spine, heat for face
  Board a ship, [boarding dock], 119; size
  Bob and weave, duck and cover, [runner], 52, 136; gut for spine
  Bolt-holes, [bolt-holes], 121; size for face
  Born in the gutter, [runner], 52, 136; effect
  Bound in blood, [sawbones], 56, 138; heat
  Boundless grace, [envoy], 36, 126; face
  Bunks, [bunks], 114; size for face
  Busy flying, don’t bother me, [jockey, helm], 44, 132; bonus
  Cargo hold, [cargo hold], 113; size for face
  Cold-blooded, [runner], 52, 136; gut
  Comrades in arms, [bruiser], 32, 125; heat
  Crazy Ivan, [greaser, engine], 40, 128; engine for helm
  Daring-do, [jockey], 44, 131; gut
  Death, [peripheral], 104; effect
  Diplomatic immunity, [envoy], 36, 126; effect
  MOVES INDEX
  
  231
  Discrete compu-functions, [tech, systems], 64, 143; bonus
  Dogfighter, [jockey, helm], 44, 131; effect
  Durable frameworks, [greaser, captain, ship], 39, 130; effect
  Expert negotiator, [envoy, captain], 35, 127; effect
  Expert engineering, [greaser, engine], 40, 129; brain, effect
  Failsafe triggers, [smoker], 60, 141; bonus
  False surrender, [envoy], 36, 126; face for spine
  Fast-talk, [basic], 76; face
  Fly a span, [ship], 122; special
  Forced seclusion protocols, [tech, systems], 64, 142; effect
  Full-body harness, [smoker, guns], 60, 141; bonus
  Full ship scan, [tech, systems], 64, 142; brain
  Get a job, [captain], 97; face
  Get a read, [basic], 86; gut
  Get in a fight, [basic], 80; spine
  Get paid, [captain], 98; gut
  Getaway driver, [jockey, ship], 44, 131; gut
  Gloves come off, [bruiser], 32, 124; spine for face
  Go fish, [junker], 48, 134; effect
  Guardian angel, [sawbones, captain], 59, 139; brain
  Guns, [guns], 116; size for face
  Hard return, [tech, captain], 63, 143; bonus
  Heal someone, [infirmary], 120; size
  Help, [peripheral], 102; heat
  Hide something for later, [bolt-holes], 121; size
  Hold firm, [basic], 82; spine
  Idiot-proofing, [greaser], 40, 128; brain
  Insurance policy, [sawbones], 56, 139; spine
  Integral defenses, [tech, systems], 64, 142; effect
  Isolation therapy, [envoy], 36, 127; effect
  
  232
  It always works, until it doesn’t, [junker], 48, 134; bonus
  Just forgot a repair, [greaser, engine], 40, 129; bonus
  Keen-eyed, [jockey], 44, 131; effect
  Kneecapper, [bruiser], 32, 124; contacts
  Knuckle down, [smoker], 60, 138; bonus
  Life debt, [sawbones], 60, 139; contacts
  Lock down a room, [systems], 112; stat
  Logical outcomes, [tech], 64, 142; brain for face
  Loop-the-loop, [jockey, helm], 46, 131; effect, gut
  Machinist, [greaser], 40, 128; brain
  Make a patch, [basic], 88; junk
  Mass production, [junker], 44, 135; bonus
  Mess with them, mess with me, [bruiser, captain], 31, 125; gut
  Navicom control frequency, [greaser, engine], 40, 129; bonus
  “Natural” remedies, [sawbones], 56, 138; effect
  No bullshit, [smoker], 60, 141; heat for face, heat for spine
  Non-combatant, [sawbones], 56, 138; effect
  Not on my turf, [bruiser], 32, 124; effect
  Notch in the armor, [runner], 52, 137; heat for spine, heat for gut
  Old reliable, [jockey, helm], 44, 132; effect
  Old world knowledge, [tech], 64, 143; bonus
  Outrun or overtake something, [engine], 110; size
  Overcharge, [smoker], 60, 140; junk
  Peacemaker, [envoy], 36, 126; face
  Power beyond, [envoy], 36, 127; face
  Practical surgery, [sawbones], 56, 138; brain for spine
  Pull a stunt, [helm], 111; size
  Real scrappy, [junker], 48, 134; junk for spine, heat
  Reputation, [captain], 95; face
  Rip & tear, [smoker], 60, 140; effect 
  
  233
  Ripper job, [junker, captain], 47, 135; junk
  Sanctioned and legitimate, [envoy], 36, 127; effect
  Scrape a hulk, [basic], 90; junk
  Scrapyard buddies, [junker], 48, 134; contacts
  Sharp eyes, sharper wit, [tech], 64, 142; effect
  Social butterfly, [envoy], 36, 126; face
  Spotter’s call, [smoker, captain, guns], 59, 141; spine
  Strip, melt, grind, smelt, [junker], 48, 133; junk
  System overclock, [greaser, engine], 40, 129; brain
  The choke, [peripheral], 100; heat
  The human element, [envoy], 36, 127; heat for face, heat for gut
  Threaten someone, [basic], 78; face
  Too many books, [tech], 64, 142; brain
  Tough as nails, [bruiser], 31, 124; spine
  Trace connections, [tech], 64, 143; heat for gut, heat for brain
  Trader’s routes, [jockey, captain], 43, 132; effect
  Tucked away for later, [runner], 52, 136; gut
  Tune up, [smoker], 60, 140; heat
  Turning tables, turning cloaks, [runner], 52, 137; bonus, heat
  Underworld connections, [runner, captain], 51, 137; contacts
  Unflinching eye, [sawbones], 56, 139; effect
  Well-learned, [greaser], 40, 128; brain
  Wrecker’s arts, [junker], 48, 134; junk
  You were saying?, [bruiser], 32, 124; effect
  
  234
  TOPICAL INDEX
  Authority, the ....................... 195
  Chains (and Heat) ................... 17
  Credit ....................................25
  Experience .............................24
  Fuel .......................................25
  Gear ................................26, 181
  Harm .................................... 22
  Heat (and Chains) ................... 17
  Hubs ....................................197
  Jobs .................................... 159
  Basics ................................20
  Escort, the ........................169
  Ferry, the ..........................166
  Fetch, the ..........................176
  Haul, the ...........................163
  Hit, the ..............................173
  Bruiser, the ........................30
  Envoy, the ..........................34
  Greaser, the .......................38
  Jockey, the ........................42
  Junker, the .........................46
  Outposts ...............................197
  Playbooks .........................15, 29
  Moves ...................................12
  Captain Moves....................93
  Basic Moves ........................71
  Playbook Moves ................123
  Peripheral Moves ...............93
  Ship Moves ........................107
  MC’ing ................................. 145
  Agendas ............................147
  Moves ............................... 151
  Prep ..................................154
  Principles ..........................148
  Runner, the ........................50
  Sawbones, the ...................54
  Smoker, the ........................58
  Tech, the ............................62
  Rooms .............................19, 108
  Armory ...............................117
  Boarding Dock ................... 119
  Bolt-Holes ......................... 121
  Bunks ................................ 114
  Cargo Hold ........................ 113
  Engine ............................... 110
  Guns .................................. 116
  Hull ....................................109
  Helm ...................................111
  Infirmary ...........................120
  Shuttle .............................. 115
  Systems ............................ 112
  Ship, the ......................... 66, 107
  Stations ................................197
  Stats .....................................13
  Supplies ................................25
  World, the ........................10, 191
  XP .........................................24
  
SOURCE: textdata/thevault/Rust Hulks (PbtA)/Rust Hulks 1.0.3.pdf