These are the… surprisingly serious voyages of… Boaty McBoatface. 

I know. Stay with me. I love this roleplaying system—and I think you will too.

To explain my love of Star Trek, we’ll need to go back to the 90’s. A bald captain stood confidently on the polished and spacious bridge of Starfleet’s flagship. I turned to my father and asked, “What’s this?”

“They’re a bunch of space explorers about to solve a crisis using cunning and technology,” he said. “And if they fail, the Romulans are going to blow them up. It’s Star Trek. Want to watch it with me?”

I barely understood a word he said, but... yeah. I did.

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Set Phasers to Fun

Before I found Startplaying Games, my group was trying to force Trek into other systems—Pathfinder, RIFTS, D&D 3.5 -- you name it. We shouted “Reverse the polarity,” and “Set a course at warp two,” with complete sincerity, but under the hood, it was an Enterprise Incident every time.

We struggled to grasp that what gives Star Trek life isn’t how to hit a target with a phaser or what specific thing a tricorder can do—it’s the simplicity. Dialogue-driven problem-solving, wrapped in a honied layer of technobabble.

And then along came Star Trek Second Edition. Streamlined, story-focused, and built to support collaborative decision-making from character creation onward—it doesn’t just play like Trek, it feels like Trek.

Suddenly, character creation isn’t about stat blocks—it’s about your values, your background, your role on the ship. It's about becoming part of a crew.

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Resistance Is Futile 

Like with other systems, it’s a good idea to check in with your Game Master (GM) to align on the kind of story you’re telling. The Star Trek Adventures core rulebook encourages a full session zero—a chance to collaborate on themes, goals, and character ideas as a group.

The gameplay itself is elegant. Refined. Balanced. It captures the tone of exploration and diplomacy with such precision that I daresay it may be the most faithful adaptation of a franchise in the history of tabletop gaming—

Oh please. Doesn’t the author sound like a Vulcan academic giving a lecture on the mating habits of warp cores?

...and just like that—snap—he’s gone.

It seems our dear narrator has come down with a tragic case of “being turned into a Betazoidian House Fly.”

A pity.

I did that, of course—I’m omnipotent, and frankly, I could barely stand his pedantic drivel any longer. 

From here on, I’ll be your new host. You can call me Q—and don’t worry, I’m not one of the boring ones from the Continuum. Let's have a little fun.

Now then, shall we attempt to get through character creation without vaporizing our host’s little fly brain from sheer enlightenment?

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Starfleet Protocols for Character Creation

The game mechanics are exceedingly simple. Child’s play, really.

Your character is created through what’s called a “Lifepath Summary”—a simplified distillation of the vast and messy complexities of humanoid existence. In each stage, your character gets more exciting, by human standards. Traits, Values, Focuses, Talents... Think of them as practical labels. Protean, yet incomplete. But helpful.

When you attempt to perform a task—hopefully more exciting than this article—you’ll rely on a combination of your Attributes and Departments. Roll some dice. Hope for the best. I’ll be watching with popcorn.

Let’s say you’re trying to interpret some blinking nonsense on your charming, yet primitive, Federation-issue sensor panels. Your DM—who, I must admit, is one of the few beings I grudgingly respect—asks you to add your Reason (which might be 10) and Science (4). That gives you a 14. 

Now, you roll 2d20. 

Any die that lands equal to or below 14 is a success. Yes, lower is better. Strange, I know—yet the universe endures.

And should you roll a natural 20? That’s called a complication. A Q-level complication, I’d wager!

Your Game Master will tell you how many successes are needed to pass the task. Sometimes you’ll succeed. You’ll likely experience many entertaining failures along the way. Possibly some partial successes, though I wouldn’t get your hopes up. Starfleet careers are built on good intentions and well-documented disasters.

Now, yes, there are conditions under which you might roll more than 2 dice… but let’s not over complicate things. I’m always miscalculating how much knowledge your species can burden before spontaneously combusting.

The six Attributes and Departments are repetitiously easy to associate with whatever task your imagination desires—giving you near-total freedom of expression. Make it count.

And the best part? You’re by no means restricted to playing a feeble, faulty human. Some of my favorite trifles were Romulans, and the Klingons… Well, they do surprise me on occasion. Not often.

In all the cosmos, there isn’t a better system, and I should know. I built most of it. The cosmos, that is. You know those three stars you call Orion’s Belt? My work, albeit not my best.

As for the writer of this little (b)log—for the sake of his porcelain ego, let’s pretend it’s important—I’ll grant him one final opportunity to finish this properly.

But be warned: the Continuum has little patience for mediocrity, and I would positively relish turning him into an Andorian Ice Eel should we find this article wanting.

Look at you—so small, so… buzzworthy. Snaps fingers.

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Sensors Are Picking Up Narrative Potential

Bzz… What an unsettling experience. 

Let’s pick up where our uninvited guest left off.

In Star Trek 2nd Edition , you’ll define your character’s species, the environment they grew up in, their upbringing (and whether or not they embraced it), their career path, and specific events and experiences along the way.

These choices also generate your Talents, Values, and Focuses—the more abstract elements of your character that shape how they think, act, and improvise under pressure.

• Talents are mechanical advantages—special rules that apply in certain situations, often tied to your training or experiences.
• Values are roleplaying anchors—statements your character believes in, which can inspire heroism or invite complication.
• Focuses are areas of personal expertise—broad, flexible, and intentionally open to interpretation. They're the times when you look your GM in the eye and say, “As I try to do a warp slingshot around Kepler 452, does Astrophysics apply for my focus?”

As your adventures unfold, you’ll track your progress through Reputation, Milestones, and Starfleet recognition. Your actions matter. Handle a crisis with grace, and you may earn a promotion—or at least a commendation. Handle it poorly, and… well, the word reprimand comes up.

These narrative consequences shape your future assignments, influence how NPCs treat you, and give your character the arc they deserve—whether it's rising through the ranks… or explaining to your commanding officer why your shuttle exploded. Again.

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Scanning for Additional Life Signs

Not every crisis centers on your main crew. Sometimes the story shifts—whether you're handling a simultaneous threat, exploring multiple locations, or just letting your Chief Engineer sleep for once. That's when supporting characters step in.

These “lower deckers” are the unsung heroes of your starship, and the game makes it easy to bring them to life. Their creation is streamlined, letting you generate a fully playable character in minutes—perfect for those sudden away missions or redshirt-required emergencies. Your crew will grow organically, with favorites returning again and again.

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Starship Systems and You

A crucial aspect of any Star Trek Adventure—The Starship. The beautiful thing here is that it isn’t just a hunk of aluminum and flashing lights that takes up narrative space without remittance. It’s a character.

In 2nd Edition, the entire group collaborates on ship creation, allocating its resources, determining its capabilities, and yes, choosing its name.

And what’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet…

Q: I’m back, did you miss me? And not a moment too soon—he was about to get sentimental.

Your ship deserves a name worthy of song, legend, and dramatic camera pans. Might I suggest a time-honored, poetic classic:

Boaty McBoatface.

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Captain’s Log, Supplemental: I Regret Nothing About This Game.

While I’ve made my admiration for this game clear—it’s a cool, narratively smooth system that stays true to the franchise we love—I wouldn’t be sincere without acknowledging that at first, a few directives can be… well, a bit nebulous. 

Star Trek Adventures offers impressive depth—expanded species, factions, philosophies, and starship options—but it remains surprisingly accessible. Most of the 384-page core book focuses on narrative tools and scene structure that feels intuitive once you’re playing.

Sure, a few subsystems might take a second reading, but you don’t need to memorize the galaxy to get started. Create your character, gather your crew, and engage with the rest when it comes up. The game is built to support that.

If you're curious to try it, StartPlaying Games makes it easy to find a Game Master already running a Star Trek campaign the way it was meant to be enjoyed: , where no one has rolled before.