Good Old (Tabletop) Games: Cybergeneration

David Ardent
Dice Addicts Weekly
7 min readSep 30, 2016

In the first of a series of articles focusing on interesting RPGs from yesteryear (and whose title totally isn’t trying to cash in on the success of CD Projekt’s popular GOG platform, honest guv’), David Ardent is taking a look at R Talsorian’s 1993 game ‘Cybergeneration’ (and it’s 1995 second edition), the lesser known follow-on from the popular ‘Cyberpunk 2020’ series.

Cyberpunk hasn’t aged well.

Or rather, classic cyberpunk hasn’t aged well.

Though it’s depictions of a dark near-future society run by out of control corporations waging shadowy digital warfare certainly aren’t far from the facts of modern existence (worryingly so, at points), the style and trappings of classic cyberpunk can’t help but feel dated thanks to it’s 80's-inspired roots: all the talk of mirrorshades, polyester clothing and juve-gangers all serve to remind you just how old the stuff you’re reading is. Nonetheless, classic cyberpunk retains a distinct style and feel, a retro charm in everything from the slang to the aesthetic.

And for me at least, nothing quite encapsulates the feel of this style quite like ‘Cybergeneration’.

Released in 1993 as a spin-off of R Talsorian’s highly successful ‘Cyberpunk 2020’ franchise, Cybergeneration is the brain child of veteran RPG author Mike Pondsmith that attempts to answer a simple question: “all these badass netrunners and corporate mercenaries kicking about must be bumping uglies at some point, so what would their kids turn out like?”

The answer? Essentially the polar opposite of their jaded, cynical parents.

In Cybergeneration players take the role of one of these teenage descendants of the Cyberpunk 2020 cast. The game’s character creation options ooze 80's-inspired cyberpunk cheese, which I for one love; your character’s background is determined by the social group that they subscribe to (referred to as “Yo-Gangs” in-game because of course it is), the main sourcebook offering you everything from ArcoRunners (urban explorers crossed with parkour addicts) to Rads (activists and rabble-rousers) and Goths (because of course you can pick goths, it’s the 80’s and Sisters Of Mercy is a thing). You can of course kit your teenage delinquent out with a variety of equipment, weapons and armour; it may not be as intently focused on loadouts as the game it’s following on from, but it would be a Cyberpunk game without a ludicrous amount of gear choice.

The book’s illustrations are all kinds of cheesy retro-cyberpunk, and that’s one of the reasons why I love it.

The game’s main hook, shifting it from “Cyberpunk 2020 with teenagers” to something pretty unique in the world of cyberpunk RPGs, is the Carbon Plague: a nano-virus unleashed upon the Incorporated States of America (eiiiiiiiiightiiiiiiiiiiies) that re-writes the genetic makeup of it’s adult victims and kills them horribly. On teenagers, however, it has a very different effect; younger victims of the nano-virus are capable of surviving the genetic re-write, emerging from the process with bizarre nanotech powers. There’s the Bolter, capable of projecting taser-like cables at high speeds to electrify targets, and the Alchemists, capable of shifting and shaping matter on a molecular level. The Tinmen emerge from the infection with liquid metal limbs, al la Terminator 2, allowing them to shape their bodies into tools and weapons, and there’s my personal favourite in the form of the Wizards, whose brain functions have been altered to organically connect to the Virtuality (because of course the internet is called that) at will.

This being a dystopian setting, the powers that be are naturally rather keen to get their hands on these genetically-altered kids (referred to as Evolved), and this being a retro-cyberpunk setting there’s also naturally a group of plucky rebels (led by the remnants of Cyberpunk 2020’s “edgerunners”) who are out to row row fight the power. The result is a strange, highly endearing mishmash of genres: teenage superheroes in a gritty, cyberpunk world.

You’re probably thinking “this sounds a hell of a lot like an anime, mate”.

And you would be dead right with that thought.

If this image doesn’t scream “I watched Akira before drawing this”, then I dunno what does.

Cybergeneration wears it’s inspirations on it’s sleeves; a product of the period when Japanese animators and writers were beginning to show just what the cyberpunk genre could be, everything from the themes and art-style oozes “anime-inspired”. Akira is a very obvious influence, with the game’s Go-Ganger motorcyclist groups (near-future bosozoku) and superpowered teenage heroes, but Ghost In The Shell certainly has a word in edgewise in terms of the setting’s look and feel. Teenage rebellion naturally plays a very heavy part of the core game plot (at least in terms of what the writers encourage), which clearly has its routes in the Shonen/Seinen manga styling, yet for a dystopian cyberpunk setting there’s a strangely hopeful tone to the game. This is, I think, one of the things that I find so endearing about Cybergeneration; it manages to capture that feeling of youthful revolt, that optimistic belief that your generation will change the world and get it right this time. It stands in stark contrast to the grim cynicism of Cyberpunk 2020, and I believe it’s all the better for it.

Mechanically, Cybergeneration keeps things pretty straightforward.

Operating under a simple d10, “beat the target value” system, it allows the rolls to happen fast and the ball to keep moving in-game. Even it’s combat system, delightfully coined “Saturday Night Skuffle”, aims to keep things smooth and quick. This is a real personal preference for me in terms of combat; too many systems out there get bogged down in the nitty-gritty of violence implementation, turning what should be one of the most tense and nail-biting aspects of the tabletop experience into an endurance test. Cybergeneration’s skills and talents for characters clearly draw heavy inspiration from Cyberpunk 2020, but the writers have quite cleverly developed and shifted these skills into teenage versions of their predecessors; instead of Athletics, for example, you have “JockStuff”, and instead of specialised combat skills you have a broader “Streetfighting” skill. This both streamlines the experience whilst adding an excellent bit of flavour to character development, driving home the theme of you playing a kid fighting against an adult world.

This is particularly prevalent as a theme throughout the game; though you may be a streetwise future-teen with nanotech superpowers, you’re still up against the jackbooted forces of the Megacorporations, which means in a straight fight you’re in serious trouble: sure you can turn your arm into a sword, but the other guy’s in power armour and lugging about an assault rifle with wallhacks. Cybergeneration encourages players to find more creative, subtler approaches when faced with adult opponents, saving the face-to-face encounters for enemies closer to their own age (such as the Evolved kids captured and used as living weapons by Megacorporations, who make great foils to a cast of super-teens).

That’s not to say that Cybergeneration’s mechanics are without flaws, however. As much as I like it’s combat system’s streamlined nature it comes with downsides: in this instance, broken and easily abused rules. Armour in this game is a particular bugbear of mine, as a single piece of armour is (according to the game’s own rules) “assumed to cover the entire body, rather than single areas”. Which means that the kid rocking a pair of padded gloves is assumed to be just as well protected as the other kid wearing an armoured vest, if the two have the same value. This is one particular rule I would strongly encourage GMs to change about if they plan on running this game themselves.

So the cheese, ultimately, is strong with this one, and this is the Marmite factor that’ll either sell you on the game or ruin it for you completely. Cybergeneration is full of ridiculous future slang, ludicrous youth culture of the dystopian state, and a slightly campy “super-teenager” focus. Yet whilst this may be a turn-off for some, for me it’s what really brings the game to life. It embraces the 80's-inspired cyberpunk trappings fully and without shame, but still manages to bring a new twist to the whole affair. The themes taken from anime’s contribution to cyberpunk, as well as its focus on teenage rebellion, give it a far more upbeat, optimistic feel that its parent game and this seems to have been one of the major intentions of R Talsorian: the children of the brooding cyberpunk badasses of Cyberpunk 2020 are naturally going to turn against their parents’ outlook, after all, and are out to save the world in spite of itself. All of this lends itself well to a really unique, if slightly cheesy, spin on classic cyberpunk.

Cybergeneration never quite found the success of it’s predecessor, sadly, but in many ways I think it’s aged better. Cyberpunk 2020’s themes and focuses have been pushed aside for the contemporary focus on postcyberpunk stories and games, but Cybergeneration is something of the Peter Pan of classic cyberpunk: eternally youthful, defiant in the face of growing up.

Playing a game like it can remind you a little of what it’s like to be young, angry and full of righteous indignation of the world again.

And that’s an experience worth coming back to.

Cybergeneration 2E and it’s supplements can be purchased from DrivethruRPG.

[EDITOR’S NOTE: The above link is most certainly not sponsored content in any way. We are way too unimportant for such things.]

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