Gosh, I haven’t thought of these things in thirty-five years. I had one, my brother had the other, and Santa brought us both of them one late-70s Christmas Eve. In fact, our relatives (mostly my uncle) conspired to buy us as much space-agey robotish thingies for the sole purpose of allowing my brother and me to fight an extreme intergalactic war on the blue carpet in the refurnished attic bedroom we shared. I remember lining them all up, two great opposing forces, spaceships and futuristic infantry, and spending quite a bit of time perfecting their formations. As far as actual battle went, I fired one torpedo from one hand-sized star fighter, which went extremely awry. Might have even taken out one of its fellow craft. I shrugged and went back to repositioning the armies, this time only imagining the actual carnage in my head.
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