tl;dr My first time playing FATE, I met some gamers, and we spent about two or three hours in character creation, and another hour after that playing the scenario; before our table time expired. Fun, but sadly not as long playing time as I would have enjoyed.
My first time playing FATE, and it took a bit of getting used to that my character's background would be determined partly by the other players; and that I would help determine the background of the other PCs. I mostly enjoyed this interesting take on character creation (collaboration is good, and it is a nice way to not do "you all meet in a space bar" cliche), but I have to admit, it did irk my inner control freak a bit.
The rest of my group didn't seem too concerned about canon when making characters, which is also a bit contrary to me: I tend to be the opposite, perhaps *too* concerned with canon, too much the "clomping foot of nerdism" who wants to know every back alley and every intersection in every little Martian hamlet.
As for our gaming backgrounds, I am very familiar with EP, but not at all with FATE; the GM was familiar with both; and the rest of the players were only familiar with FATE.
Anyway, our PCs:
Ziggy, the octopus technologist, played by me. Designed by Somatek, she was not a member of Firewall. She had, some years ago, been sent out to fix a derelict ship. Somehow, some TITAN tech on board was activated during the repair. She escaped, but the TITAN-infected shop was still out there, somewhere. Presently, she is the engineer aboard a ship in the other system.
Munen, a neo-corvid Nine Lives agent. The GM had the sinister realization that: 1. our ship was hauling an egocaster, 2. Munen, the secret Nine Lives gangster, was in control of it... some of the party had noticed him messing around with the egocaster, and were thus suspicious of him
There was also some part where some of the other party's memories were perhaps falsified by Munen, but I didn't catch that detail, as I was busy trying to make my character
Garland, a gatecrashing sentinel. He was inducted into Firewall after bringing back some awful thing through the Martian gate.
Pitre, an AGI sentinel and bodyguard, currently sleeved into (IIRC) a biomorph of what specific type I cannot recall (Fury, maybe?).
During Pitre's time as a sentinel, he was spotted (under a different morph/ID) by Ziggy acting suspicious in a shipyard. I decided that Ziggy, being an assimilationist, mostly-loyal to her employer sort of person, would call security. So Ziggy had, before the game, been responsible for the death of one of the other PCs.
Due to this, we decided she should have the ego aspect "Do Things By The Book".
An outer system transport, en route to supply a Centaur asteroid, had been diverted to rendezvous with a comet base. The comet base had been established some decades ago when a team of scientists landed on it (we played shortly after the ESA comet landing, which had inspired the GM for the premise), burrowed inside, and took a trip to interstellar space.
The comet base had been returning to the solar system, but was not responding the communication attempts.
So a quintet of people (one of the PCs had a morph carrying a fork) took a rocket sled from the transport to the comet. We passed through an airlock, into a dark, empty corridor. With some successful Interfacing checks, we were able to access a wiring cabinet, and send pings along the ship's intranet. Even though it was all powered down, the infrastructure was mostly intact. A few rooms, however, did not respond to the pings we sent out.
We proceeded down the entrance corridor, and eventually came to a junction. Opening one of the doors, a thick, black substance began to pour through. We quickly shut the door, but some of the substance remained in the corridor with us, so we hit it with a freezer, encasing whatever-it-was in a layer of foam.
We went down a different corridor, this one lit up by a biological lighting system that had somehow been compromised (by starvation, or something else?), and was now flickering in an unnatural way. We came to some crew quarters. In one, a dead crew member, skin flayed and embedded into the aerogel wall. Along with a tablet computer. Reading through the tablet, the last intra-ship email had been 20 years ago. The second to last seems nonsensical, "Purple doesn't taste good," while the final email was "Jensen did it!"
We entered another room. In this, there was an alive figure. For a moment, we tried to greet it. Then it moved in a very unnatural, threatening way, and we did initiative.
Sadly, we ran out of time before combat, or the mystery of the comet, could be resolved.