I mentioned blog discipline recently, and what I mostly meant was not discussing what I'm actually doing. Some of it is because it's behind the scenes stuff for Undercity Noir, so I can't very well talk about that, but there's a lot of bits that will certainly end up on the wiki at some point, so why not talk about those some?
In this case, I've been tinkering with animals.
The Problems with Space Animals
These are a bit of a bane for me. I've discussed them before, but in brief, and the rubber-to-the-road reality of beasties in Psi-Wars is tricky.
First, there's the fact that most of them are meaningless as encounters. A tiger is already a questionable threat to a starting DF character; they're not a threat at all to an average Action character... provided they have their gun on hand (Catch them unarmed in the jungle, and then we might talk). To a Psi-Wars commando, a tiger is a joke. The poor thing can't even hurt him.
Space Opera lets us get around that somewhat. After all, if there's a space tiger, you just assume it's about as much of a threat to you as a tiger would be to a fantasy character. This is, after all, a redress of tropes: a space knight is just a space opera reskin of a knight, and so a space tiger is just a space opera reskin of a tiger. But as noted before, the expectation in Psi-Wars is that we at least pay some lip service to physics, at least offer some technobabble as to why something works the way it does. For example, we expect that a 2 lb rat will not have ST 100. They might in Supers, or even Fantasy, but not in Space Opera, at least not without some excuse ("Their natural tactile TK"). If a serpent can deflect blaster fire with its scales, what the hell are those scales made out of? We have to have answers.
Once we have answered those questions, we need to stop and figure out how people ever got out of the stone-age. If an alien race developed on a world of giant, armored space mammoths that can go toe-to-toe with a tank, why would they also develop tanks? Either the mammoths would have killed them all or demolished their civilizations, or the race would have domesticated these space mammoths and use them as tanks. In a sense, Avatar is totally correct: if that's what your wildlife looks like, then you can have a TL 0+10 society based on your master of the planetary biosphere alone.
Once we feel we've answered that question well enough, then we must turn our eye to how did they get here? If I say that Moros has giant space centipedes of doom, that's fine and totally allowed. But what if you're not on Moros? Then you can't encounter one. And that's also fine, but that sharply limits the utility of a bestiary. If I create 20 neat critters for Moros, then when you got to Sarai or Samsara, then those 20 critters just disappear and I've wasted my time. Better would be to create creatures we can use in a variety of places. So, how do they move around?
In essence, these are questions of utility ("why do they matter?") and complexity ("I don't want to create or memorize an entire world's worth of critters per planet, no matter how realistic it is"). There are also questions of thematic integrity. Setting aside the realism of "several unique clades per planet," we would expect that when various races go to the stars, they bring something of their biosphere with them, so we can start to define the setting's animals in terms of specific ecosystems we want to explore. The Tamjaran (Keleni) Clade. The Stygian (Ranathim) Clade. The Glorian (Human) Clade and so on. Not everything necessarily needs to be bound to a specific race, of course: there are worlds or regions with sufficiently interesting creatures that they're worth of independent discussion: The Arcadian Clade; the Zirata Clade; the Leviathan clade; the Hekatombian clade. But how do we define these as distinct without either getting too far from the familiar and without crossing our wires too much. How many flavors of space dog and space cow can we have before it's too much?