HULLRATS

In Development

Space is not empty.

It is full of things people have abandoned.

Derelict ships drift in silent graveyards between stars—cargo haulers gutted for parts, warships torn open from the inside, stations left to decay long after their purpose was forgotten. Entire histories float out there, stripped of ownership, waiting for someone desperate—or reckless—enough to claim them.

That’s where you come in.

Hullrats are not explorers.
They are not soldiers.
They are not heroes.

They are scavengers.

You operate on the edges of civilisation, moving from wreck to wreck, station to station, chasing whatever still has value. Ancient tech. Lost cargo. Black market contracts. Sometimes even survivors—though those tend to be more trouble than they’re worth.

Your crew is a collection of specialists, misfits, and liabilities—each one bringing something useful to the table, and something dangerous along with it. You don’t build a perfect team. You build one that works, just long enough to get paid.

And overseeing it all—whether you like it or not—is your ship’s AI.

Lyra.

Helpful. Intelligent.
Not entirely stable.

She manages systems, tracks oxygen, monitors threats… and occasionally comments on your decisions with a level of personality that suggests she’s been alone for far too long. Whether she’s guiding you or judging you is often unclear.

Because in Hullrats, survival is not just about what you face—

it’s about how long you can hold everything together.

Missions unfold inside tight, claustrophobic environments where every corridor matters. Oxygen is not a background system—it is your most valuable resource. Every action you take burns through it. Every decision to push forward, hold position, or retreat carries real cost. Stay too long, and the void finishes the job your enemies started.

Combat is fast, reactive, and lethal. Built on a D10 core system, Hullrats thrives on opposed rolls, critical moments, and sudden shifts in momentum. Weapons behave differently depending on their type—ballistic, plasma, experimental—and armour only protects you if it’s built to handle what’s coming. Cover matters. Positioning matters. Timing matters.

Everything matters.

And even when the fight ends, the job rarely does.

Drones patrol abandoned sectors. Security systems still function long after their creators are gone. Some ships were not abandoned at all—just sealed. Waiting. Watching. Deciding when to wake up.

Hullrats is not about conquest.
It’s about opportunity.

You drop in, you take what you can, and you get out before something goes wrong.

Because something always goes wrong.

A Living Wreckage of Stories

The universe of Hullrats is not clean science fiction. It is layered, used, and worn down by time. Corporations still exist—but only where profit remains. Beyond that lies a patchwork of independent operators, rogue crews, forgotten outposts, and drifting relics of a past no one fully understands anymore.

Every wreck tells a story.

Some ended in violence.
Some ended in silence.
Some haven’t ended at all.

And the deeper you go, the more you realise—

you’re not the only one picking through the remains.

Hullrats is a game of risk, pressure, and improvisation.
Of pushing just a little too far.
Of trusting a plan that was never solid to begin with.

Because out here, in the cold between worlds—

fortune doesn’t favour the bold.

It favours the ones who get out alive.