Recently, I had stumbled upon a blog post of someone using an AI to Game Master a Traveller adventure called "From The Adventures of John Smith - Imperial Scout".
It got me thinking, so I asked ChatGPT if it could referee a Classic Traveller (CT) adventure for me. A few seconds later ChatGPT happily started walking me through the CT character generation process and setting up an adventure. (Being a fan of the Scout Service for my Traveller characters I enlisted in the Scouts myself). This is what came to be...
Out of the Black - The Dara Quinn Chronicles
*All ChatGPT text reposted here as it was produced. Occasional minor edits made for clarity and flow.
*Text replies entered by Flagrant Nerd and/or Michael Dunkle in red
Session I
After six terms in the Scouts, you’ve gained plenty of experience and skills. Now it’s time to muster out and embark on a new chapter of your adventure.
Final Character Summary:
Name: Dara Quinn
Age: 42
Credits: 2,100
Skills:
Pilot-2
Navigation-1
Mechanic-1
Gun Combat-2
Vacc Suit-1
Jack-of-all-Trades-1
Characteristics:
STR: 8
DEX: 10
END: 7
INT: 9
EDU: 5
SOC: 10
Special Benefit: Scout Ship (perfect for exploration)
What’s Next?
You’ve mustered out after 6 terms in the Scouts Service with a solid foundation: 2,100 credits and your Scout Ship ready to go.
Dara Quinn it is! A strong and fitting name for your Scout veteran. Now that you’ve mustered out after 6 terms in the Scouts Service with a solid foundation,2,100 credits and a Scout Ship, your adventure awaits.
What would you like Dara Quinn's first move to be?
Explore the galaxy, searching for new worlds?
Take on a trade or transport contract to earn some credits?
Seek out a mysterious, high-stakes mission?
Visit a nearby spaceport or station for supplies and information?
Let me know where you’d like to start, and I’ll set the scene!
Visit a nearby spaceport or station for supplies and information?
Perfect. Let’s set the scene.
Location: Mertactor Starport – District 6, Sword Worlds Subsector
The Scout ship Wild Strider touches down on the landing pad of Mertactor Starport, a bustling mid-tech hub in the Spinward Marches. The faint hum of docking clamps echoes through the hull as the landing ramp lowers. The stale scent of recycled air and fuel hits your senses.
You step onto the tarmac—Dara Quinn, 42, retired Scout, sharp-eyed and battle-tested. You're wearing a worn vacc suit jacket with a faded unit patch and a concealed sidearm. Your scout ship’s fuel tanks are half-full, your credit balance is modest (2,100 Cr), and your mind is set on gathering intel—and maybe finding work.
Inside the Station
The terminal is busy but not overcrowded. Flickering holo-displays list ship departures, job postings, and local alerts. Three points of interest catch your eye:
Starport Bar – “The Burned Thruster”
Loud, a bit grimy, and a good place for rumors, odd jobs, and shady contacts.Port Authority Office
Legitimate contracts (courier, supply runs, and passenger transport), fuel, ship maintenance, and star charts.Scout Service Liaison
A small Scout post. You might find old colleagues, debriefs, or unclaimed Scout missions.
Where would you like Dara to go first?
Bar
Port Authority
Scout Liaison
Or something else entirely?
Let's go to the burned thruster.
You head across the concourse, boots clanking on the deck plating, and push through the swinging airlock doors of The Burned Thruster.
Scene: The Burned Thruster Bar
Dim lighting. Smoky air, thick with a mixture of recycled ozone and spiced alcohol. Holo-ads buzz quietly overhead, casting flickers across the cracked leather booths and dented tables. This place has seen fights, bad deals, and probably worse.
Music thumps low in the background. A few heads glance your way—most go back to their drinks. You're a retired Scout, but that still carries weight out here.
You take a moment to scan the room. Three figures stand out:
The Broker – A sharp-dressed woman in a charcoal flight jacket, hunched over a commpad at the far end. She’s occasionally glancing at the door like she’s expecting someone… or watching for trouble.
The Drunk Spacer – Loud and slurring at the bar, bragging about a lost treasure ship he “almost salvaged” in the Mora Drift. People are ignoring him, but he’s insistent.
The Quiet Veteran – A grey-bearded man with old Scout insignia on his sleeve, sitting alone in a booth with a bottle of something strong and a haunted look in his eyes.
Would you like Dara to:
Approach The Broker for potential work or intel
Talk to The Drunk Spacer and hear his story
Sit with The Quiet Veteran for a more personal connection
Or do something else (e.g., observe, ask the bartender, start a scene)?
Your call, Captain Quinn.
Take a seat at the bar and order a drink while observing the place
You make your way to the bar, brushing past a pair of mechanics arguing over docking fees. The stool creaks under you as you sit down. The bartender—a broad-shouldered man with cybernetic eyes and an old laser burn down his neck—gives you a short nod.
“What’ll it be, captain?” he asks without ceremony.
You order something local—cheap, but strong. The drink arrives in a scratched steel tumbler, steaming slightly in the chilled air. You take a slow sip and let the room settle in around you.
Observing the Room
With the noise and chatter as cover, you take a more careful look around:
The Broker is now in quiet conversation with someone who just arrived—a wiry, uniformed courier handing her a sealed datapak. Looks tense.
The Drunk Spacer has been mostly ignored… until he loudly drops a fragment of an old starship data core onto the bar top. “Proof! I told you it's real!” he bellows. People glance over. The bartender sighs.
The Quiet Veteran hasn’t moved. He’s now staring at you, eyes sharp despite the drink in his hand. Recognition, maybe? Or suspicion?
A small group of off-duty port security just walked in. They’re relaxed, but their presence shifts the mood a little.
Do you want Dara to:
Engage someone (Broker, Spacer, Veteran, Bartender?)
Intervene with the data core drama?
Wait and listen more?
Or do something else entirely?
What’s your next move, Captain?
I'll nod to the bartender and take my drink with me as I walk over to the scout veteran's table.
The bartender gives a curt nod back, as if he’s seen this kind of quiet approach before. You lift your drink and move with casual ease through the bar, slipping between tables until you reach the corner booth.
The Scout veteran doesn’t flinch as you approach—he was watching you the whole time. His grey beard is neatly trimmed, his eyes sharp beneath heavy brows. There’s an empty seat across from him, and without a word, he nudges the bottle toward your side of the table in a silent gesture of camaraderie.
You sit.
A beat passes. Then, in a gravelly voice, he says:
"Didn’t think I’d see another of us walk in here today. Retired, or just between disasters?"
His tone is dry, but not hostile. There’s an undercurrent of mutual recognition. You see now that his jacket bears the faded patch of a long-disbanded Scout recon team—224th Deep Survey.
How do you want Dara to respond?
Keep it light? (“Retired. Mostly.”)
Trade credentials or drop your unit name?
Ask about his team or what he's doing here?
Mention the Broker or the Spacer’s data core?
Or let him talk first?
How’s Dara want to play it?
Session II
"Retired, mostly." I reach out to shake the veteran's hand. "Dara Quinn."
The veteran reaches out and clasps your hand in a firm, calloused grip.
"A pleasure, Quinn. Name’s Jaren Holt. 224th Deep Survey… back when we still had ships to lose."
He leans back, letting out a low breath.
"Retired, mostly," he echoes with a half-smile. "That means you're either running from something... or heading straight toward it."
He pours a finger of his bottle into your glass without asking. There's a pause, then his voice lowers a bit.
"You still fly? I heard whispers about a Scout ship parked on Pad C-9. Yours?"
He eyes you with interest now—genuine curiosity, maybe something else.
Do you:
Confirm and ask what he’s heard?
Keep it vague and ask about local trouble?
Change the subject—ask about the Broker or Spacer?
Or dig into his past with the 224th?
Your call, Dara.
Yeah, that's mine. The Wild Strider. The ship that I got for mustering out of the service.
Jaren Holt raises an eyebrow at the name and gives a soft grunt of approval.
“The Wild Strider… sounds like she’s got some legs on her. Must be a Type S. Always liked those—tough little ghosts, the lot of ’em.”
“You’re lucky. Most of us mustered out with just a tin handshake and a medical voucher.”
He takes a sip, then leans in slightly.
“That ship gives you freedom, Quinn. But it also paints a target. Half this port would sell their teeth to get their hands on a working scout. Especially if you’ve still got a functional survey scanner or nav AI onboard.”
He glances sideways—subtle, but enough for you to clock it.
“See that woman with the courier packet?”
“The Broker. Name’s Sera Liren. Ex-Imperial logistics. She’s been sniffing around for a ship that can ‘run quiet and long.’ That usually means illegal or desperate—or both.”
He swirls his drink, eyes locked on yours.
“You looking to make credits, Quinn? Or are you looking for something else?”
Do you want Dara to:
Ask more about Sera Liren and what kind of jobs she offers?
Say you're interested in a legit contract—or something under the table?
Tell Jaren you're looking for exploration, not entanglements?
Ask Jaren if he needs a berth?
Or go another route entirely?
I'm always interested in an opportunity now and then, preferably above board.
Jaren smirks into his glass and nods slowly.
"Fair answer. The honest jobs don’t pay well—but they don’t come with a gravestone either."
He leans forward a bit, lowering his voice.
"Still… if you’re willing to bend the board a little, Sera might be worth talking to. She's not just moving cargo—she’s moving intel. Heard she’s tangled up in some kind of dispute out in the Lanth Corridor. Quiet systems. High stakes. Probably corporate or noble house interests."
He glances at the door.
"But if you’re serious about staying clean, the Port Authority posted a long-haul courier job—nav charts to be hand-delivered to a listening station near Porozlo. Cold run, but safe. Pays about 5k."
He finishes his drink.
"Or…" He gives you a long look.
"You could take me with you. I’ve got maps in my head from systems that never made it to the archives. I’m not cheap, but I’m loyal—and I know what’s still out there."
So, Captain Quinn… what’s the next move?
Approach Sera Liren, see what kind of contract she’s offering
Visit Port Authority and accept the courier run to Porozlo
Invite Jaren aboard and go exploring off-grid
Stay, observe more, or ask additional questions
You set the course.
Tell you what Jaren, if you'd like to join my crew, we can talk to Sera Liren and see if that's our next contract.
Jaren’s expression shifts—part surprise, part quiet appreciation.
"You’ve got brass, Quinn. I like that."
He downs the last of his drink, stands, and adjusts the worn scout jacket over his shoulders.
"Alright then. Let’s see if this Broker’s deal is worth the ink."
He falls in step beside you as you weave through the bar toward the back corner, where Sera Liren is now seated alone again, datapak resting beside her half-empty glass.
She clocks you both as you approach, giving Jaren a curt, familiar nod—then she fixes her eyes on you.
"Captain Quinn, is it? Word gets around."
She gestures to the empty seat.
"Please. Sit. If you’re here, I assume you’re at least considering a contract that requires speed, discretion… and a ship that doesn’t ask questions."
Jaren leans a little closer to you and murmurs:
"She’s not bluffing. This is real—whatever it is."
Do you want Dara to:
Sit and say you're interested—tell me the job
Ask her to clarify the risks and legality
Negotiate upfront pay or details before agreeing
Or take a more guarded approach and probe her motives?
How do you want to play this, Captain?
We're interested, but I'd like to ensure there's nothing about this contract that could get us on the wrong side of the regional constables before we talk credits.
Sera Liren gives you a small, measured smile—no offense taken, but no illusions either.
"Prudent. You do wear that Scout badge well, Captain Quinn."
She taps the datapak beside her with one slender finger, then slides it a few centimeters toward you—but not far enough for you to snatch it just yet.
"This isn’t contraband. It’s encrypted corporate data—survey readings, resource profiles, and system claims. Legal to transport, legal to deliver."
"What makes it sensitive is who wants it and where it’s going."
She leans in slightly, voice low:
"The destination is Iderati, a minor world caught between two noble house investment blocs. This data could tip a claim in favor of House Vorlen, and they’re in a… complicated trade dispute with the Sword Worlds envoy."
"Nobody’s going to arrest you. But if a Sword Worlds patrol decides to scan you on the way in—or if one of the locals gets wind of what’s in your cargo hold—things might get political. Fast."
Jaren shifts beside you but doesn’t interrupt.
"You’ll be carrying a sealed crate with a forged manifest—agri-equipment parts. You’ll be paid 15,000 credits on delivery, half up front."
"If you're caught, it's deniable. If you're smart, it's clean."
She looks directly at you now.
"So, Captain Quinn… do we have a deal?"
Do you:
Accept the contract – take the 7,500 Cr advance and plan the route to Iderati
Negotiate – ask for more pay, support, or details before agreeing
Decline – too risky, go for the Port Authority courier job instead
Ask questions – about House Vorlen, Iderati, or other involved parties
Your call, Captain.
Jaren, are you up to speed at all with this House Vorlen and Iderati spat? Ever been to Iderati?
Jaren gives a slow, thoughtful nod, folding his arms across his chest as he leans against the edge of the booth.
"I’ve been to Iderati. Twice. It’s… decent habitable. One big orbital platform, two scattered domed settlements on the surface, a mining ops colony funded by Vorlen money. The world itself’s poor in culture but rich in rare trace elements—perfect for corporate friction."
He scratches at his beard, then continues:
"As for House Vorlen—mid-tier noble family, allied to the Imperium. Not powerful like the Dukes of Mora, but they’re hungry. Known for ‘strategic partnerships’ with prospectors, survey crews… and occasionally, people like Sera."
"If they’re pushing to stake legal claim over Iderati’s crustal scans, this datapak might be part of their leverage—proof of viable yield. Sword Worlds don’t like that kind of maneuver. Especially not from Imperium houses."
He looks at you squarely.
"Bottom line? It’s not a hot war zone. But you're walking into a cold one. If you fly smart and fast, no one’ll touch you. But if someone’s watching for this delivery... it could get complicated."
Sera sips her drink, watching your exchange but saying nothing.
Do you:
Accept the job, trusting your crew and ship to handle it?
Ask Sera for a safe route or intelligence on patrols before agreeing?
Decline and go the safer Port Authority route?
Or keep questioning further?
What’s your next move, Captain Quinn?
Sera, is someone watching for this delivery?
Sera doesn't blink—she meets your gaze with calm, practiced confidence.
"If there is, they haven't gotten close. Yet."
She taps the datapak again, this time sliding it fully across to you.
"We’ve had two attempts to intercept couriers leaving Mertactor in the last week. Neither got close enough to identify who was watching—but it’s safe to assume there’s a leak somewhere in the starport registry."
She leans in, voice just above a whisper:
"That's why I need a ship like yours. Scouts run dark. They don’t file typical exit vectors. You can ghost out under a dummy manifest, follow a long jump arc around Zila and then come in from the spinward side. Unusual, but effective."
"I’m not asking you to fight a war. Just get to Iderati, drop the crate to a contact named Dren Halvek on the orbital platform Iderati Prime, and walk away 15,000 credits richer. You’ll be invisible if you move smart."
Jaren mutters, just loud enough for you to hear:
“That’s a tight jump profile, but the Wild Strider can handle it. If we keep burn time short and don’t file a nav ping on exit, we’ll be ghosts.”
Sera adds quietly:
"This job won’t stay open long. My client is… impatient."
Captain Quinn, do you:
Accept the contract, take the datapak and 7,500 Cr advance
Negotiate for more intel or support (e.g. sensor scramblers, fake credentials)
Decline the job, and walk away for something safer
Ask one final question before deciding
What’ll it be?
We'll take the contract, with an additional 10,000 credits for hazard pay. 25,000 credits total 12,500 up front.
Sera arches an eyebrow—impressed, not offended. She taps a few keys on her wrist comp, clearly weighing the ask.
"Bold. Dangerous. Fair."
She locks eyes with you again.
"Done."
She pulls a slim black credchip from her coat and slides it across the table.
“12,500 credits now. The rest upon confirmed delivery.”
Then she gestures to the datapak still sitting beside your drink.
“That contains a sealed crate’s unlock code, a forged manifest, and coordinates for the contact—Dren Halvek, Deck 4, Bay 17, Iderati Prime. He’ll give you the return phrase ‘I hear it’s cold in the drift.’ Your reply is ‘but there’s profit in the freeze.’”
"Keep the crate sealed. Don’t scan it, don’t tamper with it. Not because it’s dangerous—because you don’t want to know more."
She stands, adjusting her jacket.
"Good luck, Captain Quinn. You just earned yourself a new reputation."
And with that, she leaves the datapak and credchip on the table and disappears into the crowd.
Jaren finishes his drink and exhales.
“Well, Captain… I guess we’ve got ourselves a real job.”
Mission Acquired:
Cargo: Encrypted crate (sealed, forged as “agri-parts”)
Destination: Iderati Prime orbital station, Deck 4, Bay 17
Contact: Dren Halvek
Passphrase Exchange:
Him: "I hear it’s cold in the drift."
You: "But there’s profit in the freeze."
Payment: 25,000 Cr total (12,500 Cr received)
Route Plan: Depart Mertactor quietly, arc through Zila system, ghost into Iderati spinward
When you’re ready, we’ll prep the Wild Strider for launch. Or… do you want to gather anything else or tie up loose ends before lift-off?
Session III
Let's prep the Strider for launch. In addition, lay in a contingency flight plan in the nav computer to a known safe destination we can quickly divert to in case things suddenly go wrong.
You and Jaren step out of The Burned Thruster, the station’s recycled air tasting even staler now that you’ve got real credits—and real risk—on the table.
---
Aboard the Wild Strider
Your Type S Scout/Courier greets you with the quiet hum of readiness. The hull’s old, sure, but she’s clean and custom-rigged—your own personal artifact of service and survival. Jaren moves with quiet familiarity through the ship, checking diagnostics, fuel levels, and systems while you hit the nav console.
You lay in the primary jump vector:
Primary Route:
Mertactor → Zila (Jump-2) → drift toward Iderati from spinward
Estimated Travel Time: 2.5 weeks including cooldowns
Status: Filed under falsified shipping manifest
Then you prepare the contingency:
---
Contingency Flight Plan
Alternate Destination: Flammarion
Distance: 1 Jump from Zila (safe routing)
Status: Neutral system, Imperium-aligned with excellent Scout Corps repair facilities
Local Contact: Retired Scout-TAC named Hess Rainen, friendly to ex-service
Nav Encoding: Masked as a "fuel run resupply" route
Auto-lock trigger: If the ship receives a red-level distress ping or Iderati beacon is jammed, the Strider’s computer will flash reroute options
---
Jaren finishes securing the crate in the aft cargo bay—mag-locked and shielded.
> “Prep’s clean, tanks are full, and I double-checked life support. This old girl’s got legs. We’re ready to burn.”
He gives you a look.
“You sure you want to play this quiet? We could lift under full drive and be out of range before anyone even clocks the ID swap.”
---
How do you want to launch?
1. Stealth launch – low power drift out of the berth, avoid attention
2. Standard departure – file routine manifest, avoid suspicion
3. Fast burn – quick departure under minimal cover, draw less fire but more eyes
And finally: do you say or do anything before leaving Mertactor behind?
Captain Quinn, the bridge is yours.
Before we depart, I'll stop by the duty free shop on Mertactor and pick up the most expensive bottle of brandy they have and squirrel it away for Jaren and I to celebrate with when this mission is complete and the credits are in the bank. Once back on the Strider, I'll turn to Jaren and say, “Brother Holt, I like the way you think! A Fast Burn out of here it is. Execute!”
The duty-free terminal shop on Mertactor gleams with polished glass and corporate excess, all the quiet desperation of outbound travelers and last-minute splurges. You scan the shelves, ignore the plast-sealed mediocrity, and settle on something with real gravity:
> Rarnellian Emberfire Brandy — 95-year aged, imperial seal intact.
Price: 2,100 credits.
Worth it? Hell yes.
You swipe your ident, stow the bottle in a discreet, cushioned compartment near the galley bulkhead. A promise to the future. To survival. To profit.
---
Aboard the Wild Strider
Jaren’s hands dance across the systems as you slide into the pilot’s seat. Your words draw a grin wide enough to show teeth.
> “Brother Holt, I like the way you think! A Fast Burn out of here it is. Execute!”
> “Aye aye, Captain. Spooling up the beast.”
---
FAST BURN LAUNCH
The Wild Strider roars to life—its engines spike to full vector burn as Jaren triggers the masked exit route. You peel out of berth C-9 like a ghost punching a hole in gravity.
Station control starts to squawk a mild complaint—too late. By the time your ID pings the “agri-parts transport Silver Harvest,” you’re already streaking past the local traffic boundary.
> Heat signature minimized. Course correction calculated. Transponder spoofed.
Destination: Zila system.
Status: Free and outbound.
Jaren leans back, watching the starfield slip.
> “Now that’s a burn worth toasting. When this run’s over, Captain…”
He gestures toward the hidden brandy stash.
“...we crack that thing open and drink like we just beat the whole damn Imperium.”
---
The Strider pings a soft tone as the jump field stabilizes. In 20 seconds, you’ll punch into jump space—one smooth arc away from Iderati, cold politics, and 12,500 more credits.
Unless something goes wrong.
---
> Engage Jump?
[Yes, punch it.]
[Wait—double-check systems.]
[Scan surrounding space one last time.]
Captain Quinn?
Session IV
I'm still interested in that Sera Liren was pretty open about someone watching this contract. Let's take one last look around before the jump and see if anyone is tracking our signature.
You hold a finger over the jump initiator and glance toward Jaren.
“Eyes up. Let’s sweep the dark before we burn.”
Jaren nods, pulling up passive scans while you reroute power from the main engines to boost the sensor array without broadcasting active emissions.
Passive Scan: OUTBOUND VECTOR
- Location: ~180,000 km from Mertactor
- Status: Beyond routine patrol perimeter
- Transponder Field: Holding spoofed ID, unchallenged
Sensor Results:
- Civilian Traffic: Three vessels on unrelated vectors—slowliners and a mining tug
- Imperial Patrols: One distant scout-class cutter, holding orbit near a gas giant—no pursuit vectors, no active ping
- Anomaly:
- Small vessel, no IFF signal
- Running cold, shadowing high above your trajectory at long range
- Matching your arc just enough to suggest pattern-lock
- Too distant for a full ID, but… it’s a scout-sized hull
- It broke from Mertactor's high orbit less than an hour after your departure
- Velocity suggests someone’s following you
Jaren stares at the readout, frowning.
"That’s not a miner. Too quiet, too clean. Either a pro tail... or someone paranoid enough to pretend to be one."
"They’re outside missile range now. If we jump, they’ll lose our signal unless they’re Jump-2 capable and guess our exit vector."
He looks to you.
“Your call, Captain. Could dump a decoy buoy, pull a vector drift, or jump now and leave 'em wondering.”
What’s your play?
- Jump now – disappear into jump space before they close the gap
- Drop a decoy beacon with false nav data to throw them off
- Alter your vector subtly, then jump from a different location
- Ping them – challenge the tail and see who they are
- Hold position, watch a little longer, risk delay
Captain Quinn?
Well we know they're out there. Let's go as planned and if we see them again we'll drop more than a decoy for them to find. Execute jump.
Jaren grins with a hint of that old Scout Corps fire in his eyes.
“Copy that, Captain. Setting jump—straight and true.”
He keys in the final vector corrections. The Wild Strider hums as the jump grid charges, gravitational distortions shimmering like a mirage just outside the forward viewport.
“They can chase a ghost trail for all I care. We’ll be gone before their coffee cools.”
The ship’s computer tones a quiet:
“JUMP FIELD STABLE. STAND BY.”
You take one last glance at the tail on long-range scan—still shadowing, still silent.
Then:
You hit the initiator.
JUMP SPACE – TRANSIT TO ZILA SYSTEM
The universe folds sideways.
Space smears into unreality, colors you can’t name swirl past the hull, and time unhooks from comfort. The Wild Strider enters Jump Space cleanly—no alarms, no grav shear, no hull stress spikes. A perfect insertion.
Jump Duration: ~6 days
Destination: Zila System (1/2 to Iderati)
Fuel Remaining: 50% (post-jump)
Tail Status: Unknown – left behind or guessing blind
Jaren sets the ship into cruise mode, checks life support and settles back into the co-pilot's chair.
"Well, Captain Quinn…"
He glances toward the galley compartment where the brandy is stashed.
"...one jump down, one more to go, and no one bleeding yet. You ever think maybe we are the good kind of trouble?"
The stars flicker in impossible patterns outside. You’ve got six days to prep, plan, and maybe sleep with one eye open.
Would you like to:
- Review your mission plan or Iderati maps?
- Speak with Jaren (ask questions, reminisce, strategize)?
- Perform ship maintenance or customize equipment?
- Just skip ahead to exit from jump at Zila?
Your move, Captain.
Session V
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