It was a great time, and we ended up attending several more times over the years. For a while, Con-Version included a self-contained gaming convention as part of its programming, and it was here I saw my first ever miniatures wargaming (15mm Napoleonics if I recall correctly), plus people playing role-playing games, and an immense game of Star Fleet Battles.
SFB, as it is known, is one of the earliest attempts at tabletop starship combat set in the universe of the original Star Trek series, and exists to this day. In fact, our circle plays a miniatures-based form of it still, but in its purest form, it is a detailed and serious game, with the densest rulebooks I have ever encountered. They are written in case form for easier rules citation (e.g. "4.32 Grappling and Boarding; Damage to Ships"), and three-hole punched so you can easily add in the never-ending supplements and expanding rules. Leafing through, you will even find the officious "This page left intentionally blank," a sure sign that this is indeed a serious business.
Each ship has a full-page ship's structure diagram or SSD, and allocating energy between shields, weapons and movement is the heart of the game, after which tiny counters are moved accordingly on a hex-based map and dice are rolled to determine combat results.
Now, I do not find the game very fun, but there are many who play it and enjoy it. I heard a good explanation as to how SFB is not about swashbuckling space combat and tactically outmaneuvering your opponent, but how it is, in fact, a resource allocation game dressed up as a naval combat game. which is a good fit for people who don't like a lot of, you know, fun in their boardgames.
That said, I respect the individuals who have made an engaging pastime out of transferring gravity from the zero-g washrooms to power up the hangar doors in order to launch a suicide shuttle loaded with anti-matter in hopes of taking out an opponent who has otherwise crippled their ship. I can't imagine socializing with them, but hey - more power to you, space accountants.
Anyhow, despite a tedious turn sequence and an impetus towards "realism" that can reduce game flow to a crawl, Star Fleet Battles still has the potential to evoke drama, as I found out seeing it for the first time.
It was a massive group game, maybe over a dozen players, and who knows how many might have been eliminated by the time I started paying attention. Each player had a single ship, and while it may have been a "last ship standing" sort of affair, some players had clearly aligned along factional lines for increased survivability, so there was some coordination among Klingon players and Romulan crews and so on. But not among the Federation players.
Somehow, a sole Starfleet commander had alienated every other faction and even many of his supposed comrades-in-arms. I don't know if he had tweaked the rules, or taken an overpowered ship, or preyed exclusively on weakened or battered foes or maybe even turned coat on his allies on a previous turn, but it was clear that no one at the table was impressed with this individual. The fact that he was insufferably pleased with himself did not endear him to anyone either.
The referee took it all in stride, however, keeping things in good order, making sure everyone filled out their energy allocation forms for each turn in a strict time limit, and calling for movement at each turn segment or "impulse."
Having rendered an opponent immobile, the Federation player was clearly planning on engaging another opportune target, but as players around the table announced their plans for that impulse, the person behind him reached out an arm to get the referee's attention. This puzzled the erstwhile conqueror. "Are you even playing?"
"Oh, yeah," the new player answered calmly. "I'm running a Romulan Bird of Prey."
The Starfleet player scanned the map, looking for a Romulan counter. "I don't see where..."
"Well, you wouldn't," the Romulan replied. "I've been running with my cloaking device engaged since the start of the game, and handing in my allocation forms and movement to the ref on pieces of paper." He turned to the ref, patiently awaiting the next command with a smile that conveyed relief and schadenfreude simultaneously.
"I uncloak now," the Romulan player said.
The referee nodded, turned to pick up the appropriate counter, and placed the Bird of Prey on the map directly behind the Federation player. The Starfleet captain sputtered, blood draining from his face. His turn to move was next, and he proceeded directly ahead one hex, unable even to turn because he had put all his extra energy into his weapons and shields - his front shields, specifically.
"All right, that's movement done, anyone firing?" the referee inquired innocently. All heads turned towards the Romulan player, who seemed unaware of the effect his revelationary disclosure had on those in attendance.
"Yes, please," he answered, checking a reference. "I've been powering up a plasma torpedo for...: he trailed off.
The referee checked his clipboard, "For...wow, five turns, actually."
(Note: I learned afterwards that plasma torpedoes dissipate significantly at long range, but are devastating at close quarters, and a range of one hex was definitely knife-fighting proximity. Furthermore, one could compound their effects by spending precious energy to hold them in the tube, doubling their damage from four to eight points, and so on. It was a difficult trick to pull off, but if your opponent was unaware of your presence, so you weren't spending any energy whatsoever on shields, well...)
The Federation captain fumed while the Romulan player rolled his dice, scoring a hit and inflicting a devastating 64 points of damage in a game where anything over a dozen at a single blow is a most palpable hit.
The plasma torpedo blasted through the rear shields and effectively cored out the Starfleet ship, with some damage actually coming out the bow and damaging the front shield from the inside. Hollowed him out like a caribou carcass, in point of fact.
I don't know which aspect of this attack the arrogant Federation player found more galling: the fact that it eliminated him from the game so decisively or the hoots and cheers that accompanied his ignominious departure.
I left shortly after that, because I couldn't imagine anything cooler happening. I think I picked up the starter set of Starfleet Battles that same trip, but I was disappointed at just how tedious it was to play, and it collected dust for a long while. I eventually traded it away after years of keeping the rulebook in my bedside table to combat insomnia. (Seriously, the book could count as a class II soporific and should be labelled "Do not operate heavy machinery immediately after reading.")
But it also taught me what I did appreciate in my tabletop games, and eventually led me to the more elegant mechanics of Battletech, Warhammer 40,000 and eventually the "A Call to Arms" variation of SFB itself.
To this day, however, the phrase "I uncloak now" remains firmly ensconced in the lexicons of my nerdy friends, as a reference to or salute of tactical ingenuity or creative strategery.
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