Retrospective: Bugs in the System

With all the talk of Star Frontiers in issue #9 of Polyhedron, I thought it might be worthwhile to look more closely at what might well be the best adventure ever published for that roleplaying game, Bugs in the System. Some of you may recall that, almost two years ago, I included Graeme Morris's 1985 effort in the list of My Top 9 non-D&D Adventures of All Time. While I still very much stand by that assessment, the module is not perfect – few things are – and I feel that a fuller examination of it lends itself to some interesting topics, both about the history of the hobby and the design of published adventure scenarios.

Bugs in the System is a product of TSR UK, the British division of TSR Hobbies, which closed its doors in 1986. During its brief existence, TSR UK distinguished itself by producing a number of well-regarded and highly imaginative game materials, some of which have long been among my favorites. Though I'm not quite certain I can put my finger on precisely what sets them apart from their American counterparts, there's no denying that there's something unique about even the worst of them. 

That's certainly true of Bugs in the System. Whereas the American Star Frontiers adventures, like the Volturnus Trilogy, draw their inspiration from the pulp sci-fi of the genre's Golden Age, Bugs in the System is a fair bit harder edged and "serious" in its approach to science fiction. By "serious," I mean only that Morris takes seriously Isaac Asimov's belief that science fiction isn't really science fiction if it lacks science. Most of what we reflexively call science fiction, especially in the realm of roleplaying games, doesn't include much in the way of genuine scientific speculation. It's mostly fantasy in space, which is absolutely fine in my opinion, but I still appreciate it when an author puts serious effort into incorporating science and scientific ideas into his story.  

Bugs in the System does just that and in a way that puts the lie to the notion that "real" science fiction can't still be adventuresome. The premise of the adventure is quite simple: the characters are tasked with the job of traveling to a biochemical extraction platform located in the upper atmosphere of a gas giant to determine the nature a disaster that cut it off from contact and, if possible, effect repairs and rescue any surviving members of its crew. It's a classic set-up for an adventure, since it provides the characters with just enough information to understand their ostensible mission and leaves just enough unknown that there's no doubt in the players' minds about the fact that unraveling a mystery is why their characters are truly traveling to the extraction platform.

As I noted, Morris is very committed to the adventure's scientific speculation. The nature of the disaster that struck the extraction platform is an unintelligent, microscopic organism that consists of patterns of electrical impulses. These patterns gather together simple compounds from the atmosphere of the gas giant to build up large biochemical molecules in which they "live." A mutated form of this lifeform has infected the extraction platform's circuitry, causing malfunctions and other anomalies – in short, a living computer virus. That may not seem like an original idea in 2023, but, nearly four decades ago, it was and I remember thinking how clever Morris was to have come up with it.

Of course, the fun of the adventure isn't simply in the high concept of its backstory. The fun comes from the characters wandering around the extraction platform, which is supported by bags of gas heated by nuclear reactors, looking for clues to what might have happened, as well as dealing with the malfunctions caused by the lifeform. Characters with technological skills, particularly computers and robotics, will have a lot to do. Morris put a lot of thought into how the lifeform operates within the computer systems and how the characters can combat it. There are even charts and diagrams, depicting the architecture of the platform's mainframe, programs, and terminals, intended both to visually represent the overall system but also to aid the characters as they attempt to track down and isolate the lifeform.

Overall, Bugs in the System is a thoughtful and challenging scenario, one that rewards characters who pay attention and carefully consider evidence. Even so, that strength is also something of a weakness, in that characters – and players – who are not as scientifically/technologically inclined might become a bit bored. Morris seems to recognize this, hence the inclusion of malfunctioning robots to fight, including one whose outward appearance hides its true nature (shades of Ash in Alien). I can't really fault him for this, since he needs to ensure the module holds appeal for a wider audience, but I found these obligatory combat-oriented threats somewhat jarring even at the time. They only appear more so today.

As I stated at the beginning of this post, I stand by my judgment that Bugs in the System is one of my favorite RPG adventures of all time. Its underlying idea is very solid and its implementation excellent. Graeme Morris put a lot of thought into it and it shows. The maps and diagrams (by Paul Ruiz) are clear and well-done, too, which only adds to the module's overall quality. It's just a pity that, likely as a concession to those who prefer their "science fiction" to be Star Wars rather than 2001, there are all these unnecessary shoot 'em ups sprinkled throughout. Them's the breaks, I guess.