Oxiddon Alpha: A Troubled World on the Galactic Frontier

Nearly a century ago, Terran survey teams declared Oxiddon Alpha -- the lone planet in the Oxiddon system -- uninhabitable and unfit for human settlement. A marker satellite was placed in orbit, the survey details were recorded in the archives, and the teams moved on. Nonetheless, the discovery of massive mineral deposits 57 years later led to the Maersk-Tesla corporation's successful bid to be the lead agency for resource development. In exchange for a 60-year renewable contract for exclusive mineral extraction rights, the conglomerate corporation was tasked with terraforming of the planet for later human colonization.

Eager to exploit this new source of material, Maersk-Tesla hastily agreed -- though terraforming would prove to be low on the corporation's agenda. Thus, they were only too happy to let University of Noonien Professor Xian Peterson use the planet as a testbed for his own experimental techniques.

The terraforming of Oxiddon Alpha would take 45 years, and Xian would pass away before seeing the results of his labor, but in the meantime the colonization would far outpace the speed of terraforming. Mineral deposits on Oxiddon Alpha were greater than anyone had predicted, but the process of terraforming -- now watched with great interest by various politically connected educational institutions -- meant that the planet could not simply be strip-mined away or fracked into submission.

The mines themselves stretched for miles underground, with periodic above-ground facilities to extract and process the mineral wealth. Growth brought manufacturing to Oxiddon Alpha. Mining domes could not expand outward for fear of damaging the delicate terraforming process, so they expanded upward.

The Birth of the Bridge Cities 

As a result of this growth, mining domes that averaged only two miles in diameter became towering cities reaching high into the sky. Fueled by a seemingly endless flow of credits and in the spirit of friendly competition, these cities were more than functional sealed towers of living. The "city managers" -- each wishing to be more awe inspiring than their neighbor -- commissioned the galaxy's finest architects to make the cities a marvel inside and out.

To connect these cities, great sealed bridges, often stretching dozens -- or in a few cases hundreds -- of miles long were constructed. And thus were born the Bridge Cities. Some areas of the planet, too remote to be connected by bridges, would remain small mining outposts, and other less mineral rich regions would remain undeveloped. On the resource rich continent of Sealand Major, it took human settlers built less than four decades to develop beautiful spires, towers and cityscapes across the landscape, all connected by immense carbon-fiber bridges.

The last of the Bridge Cities was completed a decade before the terraforming effort was finished. It was nearly two generations since landfall, and the Bridge Cities had developed without any real confidence that terraformation would be successful. These self-sufficient spires contained everything that a population would need and almost as much as they could want.

Before terraforming was complete, the bridge cities decided on a radical course of action. Within a decade, they knew, a massive influx of colonists would arrive on Oxiddon Alpha. To head off this potentially imbalancing threat, the Bridge Cities declared themselves the "independent and contiguous nation of Uberbrucken." Terran authorities quickly granted a charter and a new kind of nation was born on less than 800 square miles (not counting bridge supports) of actual land occupied by the Bridge Cities.

One Planet, Two Worlds
A decade after the completion of the last Bridge City, Oxiddon Alpha was reborn. Unblemished by pollution from the self-contained Bridge Cities, the planet was ripe for colonization, soon developing into a thriving breadbasket for the Galactic Frontier.

The colonists set about establishing their egalitarian settlements around the newly formed nation of Tenuta. Uberbrucken, on the other hand, kept to the more corporate and top-down methods that had served them well for decades. Though there were many opportunities for trade, Uberbrucken's governing board decided instead that a nearly complete embargo on contact with the settlers would best preserve their way of life.

And so, these two nations remained, both more geographically intertwined and yet more culturally separate than perhaps any two nations in human history.

The Bridger-Broadlander Wars 
No side has been quite willing to take responsibility for the conflict known as the Bridger-Broadlander wars, but the results are well known. Some 85 years after terraforming wrapped up on Oxiddon Alpha, Uberbrucken and Tenuta existed peacefully, but with little contact besides the most minimal levels of diplomatic communication.

In the late planting cycle of 2406, the sleeping citizens in the Tentua settlement of Brinsk awoke to the sound of the ground beneath their feet splitting open. A minute later, the entire settlement was swallowed up in a giant man-made sinkhole, created by over-mining on the part of the Bridge City megacorporations. There were no survivors.

 
Outcry was swift and loud, but tempers were restrained as representatives of Uberbruken and Tenuta quickly entered into intensive discussions. An agreement regarding reparations had almost been reached when the second sinkhole collapsed part of the city of Hondon, which sits between the Bridge Cities of Parvassa and Inverness. Affecting only a small outlying neighborhood, it was not the tragedy that Brinsk was, but it set off alarm bells as leaders in both factions realized the continent could be riddled with potential sinkholes.

Indeed, secret documents showed that fully two-thirds of the populated areas of Sealand Major lived within a mile of a potential sinkhole, and several major Tenutan cities were located directly over such danger zones. The Bridge Cities, of course, bore no such risk, located as they were far from the mining operations that sprawled across the planet.

One morning in 2406, an extremist Tenutan faction struck at the Bridge City of Uman. After gaining entry to the city, suicide bombers with tactical nuclear devices detonated themselves at key support structures throughout. Its structural integrity compromised, the miles-tall city commenced a slow-motion implosion and collapse over the course of several hours. Thousands died, and Uman's death throes dislodged the bridges tethering it to its sister cities.

The first Bridge City to fall would not be the last. Within days, Maersk-Tesla corporate marines were fighting pitched battles with Khiff mercenary brigades hired by the Tenutans and possibly funded by other corporations. The bloodshed increased as more Bridger cities fell...one, three, then dozens.

  
Uberbruken retaliated by deliberately collapsing the underground mines beneath Tenutan military bases ... many of which were located near settlements and cities. The conflict might have torn the planet apart, but Oxiddon Alpha was too important for Terran Authorities to abandon. After eight months of fighting and the loss of hundreds of thousands of lives, it took only Terran threats of sanctions against Maersk-Tesla to bring an immediate withdrawal of nearly all fighting forces.

In a Terran sponsored deal, Uberbruken paid for the relocation and resettlement for almost the entire non-Bridger population, as well as grants and low-interest financing for additional development. Maersk-Tesla also ceded the rights to mining on the other continents, though this was not seen as a notable penalty since it is Sealand Major where the richest resources were -- and still are -- located.

Since then, the new colonies elsewhere on Oxxidon Alpha have maintained a unified identity and government known as New Tenuta.

The Remnant
Despite the destruction of their entire society, and instability of a land where underground mining is now conducted with no concern for above-ground dwellers, a few Old Tenutans refused relocation. Known to themselves as "Broadlanders" or "The Remnant," they chose to stay.

Their lives are best described as pastoral, or even primitive. Uberbruken currently maintains a complete embargo on communication and transit on Sealand Major. The Broadlanders thus scavenge leftover equipment and technology from the war-torn former Tenutan settlements or collapsed Bridge Cities.

 
The Remnant inclues hardy settlers who have banded together to stake out land claims and work out their living on vast plots of still-virgin farmland, along with bands of marauders who pillage across the continent preying on the weak. Nomads scavenge the wastes and the fallen Bridge Cities and trade their finds all over Sealand Major.

All these groups live our their lives in the sometimes anarchic and often apocalyptic Broadlands. Despite the deprivation and constant possibilities of new sinkholes, it is a vibrant place with danger and opportunity present in equal measure.

 
As long as they stay in the Broadlands, Uberbruken takes little notice or responsibility for these peoples. They will not aid the needy, nor will they punish evil deeds so long as they occur out of view of Uberbruken citizens. It is essential that Uberbruken people not disturbed by the Broadlanders, so atrocities (or other potentially aggressive acts) committed within sight of a Bridge City will result in swift justice from an Uberbruken Enforcement Team.

The Gates
There is an exception to the odd sort of of paternal neglect that has risen up between the Uberbruken population and the Broadlanders. Every Bridge City has a clearly marked portal at its base. These "gates" are always open to any Broadlander -- in fact, the bridge cities will respond with surprising force to any attempt to block access to the Gates. It is perhaps the only truly shared and universal agreement of New Tenutan, Bridger and Broadlander law that any Broadlander has the right to enter a Bridge City.

Upon entrance, they will immediately receive full medical attention (if necessary) as well as interviews and possible interrogation. They will then be relocated to anywhere Tenutans have been resettled, usually being reunited with existing family if possible. A select are offered a place within the Maersk-Tesla Corporation. W

Wherever they end up however, it is an inflexible rule that once a Broadlander enters the gates, they leave the Broadlands forever. It is commonplace for orphans and the very ill to make use of these portals, as they are often a literal gateway to a new life.

However criminals, and those with a price on their heads may also attempt to make use of the gates as well. If a refugee Broadlander with a criminal record enters a gate, he may be sentenced to a period of time in the Terran Penal Legions, or may be exiled forever into the windswept wastes, their gate privileges revoked forever. In this way, the Broadlands act as a sort of open-air prison for the planet's worst offenders.

-- Karl, Chicago Skirmish Wargames club member

The Beacon of Raggid Holf: A Song of Blades & Heroes Game Report

Last week the club met at our favorite friendly local game store, Games Plus. While Tim and Pat amused themselves with a game of Of Gods and Mortals, Karl, Mike, and I got to play an awesome game of Song of Blades & Heroes. We picked out the Silence the Watchtower scenario, converted from a Warhammer skirmish scenario by Hour11Gaming in their excellent supplement.

Karl, commanding his Night Herons of the Black Crown, was charged with defending the warning beacon in the ruined tower on Raggid Holf (the name of the central island, I’ve decided) against Mike’s Picked Men of the Wolves of Powys and my own demented Brigandry of Skeldkryk. After six turns the beacon would light, warning the Commandery of the secret order of the Night Herons of the incursion; if Mike and I succeeded in kicking down the door to the tower and extinguishing the beacon before it was fully lit, the Commandery would be ignorant of our invasion and the order would surely crumble!

"Light it," croaked the Sergeant-Marshal. "The Grand Master must be informed that the Holf is threatened."

"In repayment of the gods," said his hulking lieutenant, and swiftly he disappeared into the tower. The Sergeant-Marshal could hear the tramping of the self-righteous heathens on the bridges to the South and the West. The outpost was hemmed in, surrounded by those who would throw down the idols of his order. They knew nothing of his fervor, nor of the debt that every living thing owed to the dark gods. 

The Sergeant-Marshal was glad to send them back to their filthy corners of the world. At first he had scorned the lump of blasted rock, to defend which he had been summoned from his manor, and his jeweled chambers, and the maids who applied the balms to his twisted arm. But did he not owe all of those things to the favor of the dark gods? Indeed, he now knew he was fortunate to have the opportunity to repay his favor. With such thoughts, and in the light of battle, the Raggid Holf seemed almost sublime. 

Yes, he thought. This will be a good place to show his devotion to the dark gods. 

And, if necessary, this will be a good place to die for them. 

The Sergeant-Marshal could afford to waste no time. The picked men had already advanced in dense formation halfway across the mangrove bridge, with shields locked. At the head of the column came a fierce figure clad in a red robe. He chanted and struck his shield with his sword; and the picked men around him chanted in return, and rattled their spears.

The Sergeant commanded his men forward to the southern bridge to arrest the advance of the Wolves of Powys, with his Beastblood riders in the van to break the wall of shields. He sent the so-called half-elves, the stillborn tribesmen, to hold the western bridge against the collection of brigandry that remained strangely quiescent, standing in close order beneath their banner, which was bedecked in dripping eyes.

The forces met at the landing of the southern bridge in an unmoving line, with each side striving to push the other bodily back. Unable to move, soldiers were forced onto the points of spears amid the press, and their bodies pushed over the rails and into the sump below.

The red-robed Champion made sure that many knaves would pray to their dark gods no more. But in the thick of the foot of the bridge he met a fearsome warrior with crested helm. The knight’s studded maul shattered Gawain’s shield and his arm with it, and he collapsed in the crush of bodies and was overcome.

"On! Foward!" cried Derfel over the din. "Be not cowardly and run in fear, for we are the Wolves of Powys and lest we darken the name of the fair lady of that place, we shall stand!"

"But lord," said the slinger at Derfel’s shoulder. "Gawain, the lady’s champion… he has fallen. He who they said could not be slain..." The boy’s eyes were trembling. Derfel perceived that he was lost in a cloud of fear. 

"Perhaps, boy, they will sing that this was the place that bold Gawain fell. But perhaps they will also sing that this was the day he was avenged. Now load that sling and press forward!"

The boy did as he was told, and Derfel carried on shouting whatever he could think to keep his men fighting on. What they will NOT sing, Derfel thought to himself, is that the Wolves of Powys turned and ran because a foolish boy lost his stomach!

On the Western bridge, the stillborn sounded their shrill death-cries and threw themselves forward, intending to smash their way through their adversaries and break them before they could even gain the bridge. But even as their axes started to fall, the flag bearer swung the staring gonfanon in a signal and the ranks opened. Mottle-skinned, be-taloned creatures leapt upon the unfortunate warriors and tore them to pieces. Then emerged a giant of a man bearing a maul the size of a tree who strode forth and grunted his challenge to the captain of the half elves and beat him back along the bridge.

"Would that all days could be blessed with rains such as these," said Aelfnir the Deranged to the Shivering King as he brought his bearded ax to rest at last. His plumed helm was bespeckled with tiny drops of blood, like lazy insects. The senseless yammering of Brittlegast the cut-pate drifted back from further along the bridge, along with the rhythmic sound of his cleaving. 

A shallow whisper issued from behind the Shivering King’s visor: "I have dreamed..."

"Eh?"

 The strange cavalier pointed his sword to Raggid Holf, pointed at a figure near the far bridge whose arm appeared - at least to Aelfnir - to end in a large claw. But then Aelfnir had often been told that his perception was... askew. 

"I have dreamed," said the Shivering King, more loudly now, seeming to speak more to the distant figure than to Aelfnir. "I have dreamed of your face through the feculent skies." And then screaming: "I have dreamed of the chattering of ruminants and the maumetry of your faith!" And with that, the Shivering King screeched and spurred on his beast of war, and its six hooves made a hollow thunder across the bridge to Raggid Holf. 

"Huh," mused Aelfnir. "At first I thought he wasn’t listening...but it looks as though the King is as excited about the rain as I am!"

The Sergeant-Marshal could see that his hold on the Holf was failing. The western bridge had fallen and the southern hung by a fingernail.

He looked to the tower in desperation. Was it a curl of smoke he could see issuing from the top? There came a shout from the remaining picked men on the bridge. Many had fled, but Derfel had rallied the rest and they were pressing forward once more.

So, after bidding the half-elf captain to guard the tower with his life, he sprang into the combat at the foot of the bridge, battering back the tide and rending spear and shield in his claw. As in a mist, he perceived the face of the leader of his foes... and he reached for it. His claw tightened around Derfel’s neck and sword arm, which was prying bloodily at the pincer, but to no use. Derfel fell at the foot of the bridge. Twice.

So taken was the Sergeant in the euphoria of battle that he did not hear the echoing screech of the Shivering King until he was already upon him. He struck in vain at the guilded cuirass, but felt the Cavalier’s searing blade cut deep into his throat. The Sergeant-Marshal fell and the outpost guard withdrew to the base of the tower - dismayed, yet determined to continue fighting.

The Slavering Banditry pressed the attack, supported by the dogged remainder of the Wolves of Powys; but even as the entire outpost seemed doomed to butchery on Raggid Holf, the impossible happened…

The Sergeant-Marshal tried to compose his breathing while he gathered his silken tunic in his left hand to staunch the flow of blood from his neck. At length he found himself exhausted, and so instead he rolled onto his back and prepared to meet the gods. But as he did so he was met with the wonder of fire, for the beacon had taken and was ablaze. 

He heard his Lieutenant bellow from the top of the tower: “It is lit and the Grand Master shall know! Long live the Night Herons! Long live the Black Crown! 

...And with his dying eyes, the Sergeant-Marshal saw smoke billowing into the sky, as black as the hair of the maids of his manor…indeed, he thought, as black as the favor of the dark gods.

--Mattias Darrow, a Chicago Skirmish Wargames Club Member

The Maersk-Tesla Corporation

(For the Galactic Frontier sci-fi setting)

In 2250, two of humanity's largest megacorporations (a transportation outfit and a hyperdrive engineering firm) came together to form a shipping conglomerate designed to push the boundaries of the Galactic Frontier.

It was only partially successful. The newly formed Maersk-Tesla Corporation has used its size and influence to keep only a modest lead on its rivals for most of the past 200 years. Corporations like Ever-Honda were quick to follow suit and merge shipping and spacecraft production, while conglomerates like Nippon Yusen Mitsubishi rushed to better synergize divisions already serving those sectors.

Nonetheless Maersk-Tesla has exceeded its rivals by also taking on the more risky tasks of exploitation and production. While most transportation companies prefer to make the easy money of simply moving materials, goods and people, Maersk has extensive interests in the the entire production cycle, from the location and extraction of raw materials, to the development, manufacture and in some cases the sale of commercial goods.

Following the debacle of Oxxidon Prime, Maersk-Tesla has turned to mercenaries to enforce its holdings on the Galactic Frontier. However, it does maintain its own "Asset Protection" forces ranging, from civilian security guards, to paramilitary units such as the Seven Guard Hussar and Moller's Dragoons.

Maersk-Tesla even fields the elite covert Jægerkorpset, which are deployed for the most sensitive missions where secrecy and deniability are essential. Though relatively few in number compared to national military forces, all Maersk combat forces are known to be extremely well trained and equipped.

The Maersk-Tesla symbol is a stylized red "T" inside a white 7-pointed star, on a blue background. Maersk-Tesla still maintains its historical 550-year presence on Terra in the city of Copenhagen, Denmark. However, true active headquarters of Maersk-Tesla is on the planet Nu-Jylland in the city of Schleswig.

-- Karl, Chicago Skirmish Wargames club member

Of Gods & Mortals Game Report

Song of Blades & Heroes holds a special place in the heart of many Chicago Skirmish Wargames members. It was the game that brought us together way back in 2010, and since then we've become experienced (some might say veteran) SBH players.

So you can imagine how excited we were to read about Of Gods & Mortals, written by Andrea Sfiligoi and released last year by Osprey. The game might be best described as large-scale skirmish featuring gods, mortals and legends drawn from history and mythology clashing on the battlefield. Based on our reading of the rulebook, OGAM games are quite a bit larger than the typical SBH game, with maybe 20-25 figures per side in OGAM compared to 6-12 figures for SBH.

Both games share the same basic rules engine, which means we already knew 75% of the rules before we even opened the rulebook. We've been looking for a good framework for doing large-scale SBH games, so Tim and I carved out some table space at last week's club night to try out OGAM.

We built two 900-point armies: Norse/Celt-inspired undead guys for Tim, and Egyptian-themed undead guys for me. Undead vs. undead -- what could go wrong?!

Here are my guys, led by Hesperax, the undead dragon.

And here are Tim's guys, led by his undead giant along with a werewolf and Celtic chariot.

We decided to play the "Sacred Grove" scenario, in which both sides fight to control an enchanted copse of trees in the center of the table. Here's the battlefield at the start of our game.

We deployed our guys in a rough arc around the sacred grove. In the base rules for OGAM, units can deploy anywhere on the battlefield as long as they're a minimum distance away from any other enemy unit. That's fairly cool! No more lining up on the table edge and spending the first three turns moving forward!

Tim took the first turn and advanced his undead giant, chariot and a squad of skeleton warriors toward the sacred grove.

I did the same on my side of the table, taking care to keep Hesperax (my leader) near her troops for support.

OGAM has three different unit types: gods, legends and mortals. Mortals move around the battlefield in formations, and the game has just enough crunch in this respect to satisfy gamers who might be familiar with ranked unit movement from games like Warhammer Fantasy or Kings of War. But units are capped at 8 figures, so you won't find yourself struggling with ungainly blocks of individual troops.

Legends are basically heroes or champions with better stats and a few special rules. They can roam around the battlefield, and they stand a decent chance of threatening a small unit of mortals.

Here, Tim's werewolf encounters my lich lord on a flanking maneuver. Both are legends and both will shortly be joined by their comrades as the battle develops.

Closer to the sacred grove, my unit of skeleton archers had invested a ruined building and were taking potshots on Tim's advancing guys. As in SBH, shooting is not all that effective unless you really dedicate some points to it. My archers didn't do a whole lot in this game.

Here's another look at the scene above. You can see I've got an 8-man unit of skeletons moving into contact with Tim's undead guys. In the second pic below, he's bringing another smaller unit up around the rear of my skeletons.

We ran into an interesting rules situation at this point. In OGAM, a unit that loses a combat always recoils away from the opposing unit -- but it doesn't always suffer casualties. In the photo above, my skeleton unit in the center got pinched between Tim's two mortal units and basically bounced back and forth for several turns like a pinball, constantly recoiling into another enemy unit, losing 1 figure at a time but never quite falling apart.

Eventually Tim destroyed the unit but he had to commit two units of mortals and his undead giant. It was a real grindfest and we were wondering if we were playing the combat correctly. We kept flipping through the rulebook looking for a rule about how units that recoil into larger enemy units are automatically destroyed, but such a rule didn't exist, so we just kept playing out the combat in little spurts each turn.

On the other flank, the battle between the werewolf and lich lord was heating up. Tim committed another unit of mortals and I brought up my undead abomination to support the lich.

We smashed on each other for a few turns, but ultimately the lich lord prevailed, slaughtering the mortals and prompting the werewolf to fall back toward the sacred grove.

Oh yeah! About that sacred grove. I didn't take very many photos of it, but the grove saw some fierce fighting. Tim seized it early in the game with his chariot, but then I moved up a unit of 8 skeletons, destroyed the chariot, and promptly seized the sacred grove for myself. Here they are, taking up defensive positions as Tim pivots his troops to focus on the objective.

In the end, Tim couldn't quite seize the objective before the end of the game (it was capped at six turns). So although I definitely lost on the battlefield, I was able to hold onto the scenario objective and score a victory.

We hashed out some thoughts on OGAM after the game. Short version: Tim and I both enjoyed it and feel it could be a great "next step" for our club. We've been looking at slightly larger games for a while now, and OGAM offers that while still maintaining a lot of the skirmish aspect that we like about SBH.

The combat rules have been cleaned up a lot compared to SBH. Almost all of the combat modifiers are bonuses, rather than penalties, which makes them a bit easier to track. Units still have only two stats, just like in SBH, plus a few special rules which will look familiar to any SBH player.

One minor quibble has to do with some of the combat math. Outnumbering counts every factor of 4 when determining bonuses, but casualties count every factor of 3. It seems like it wouldn't have been too hard to bring these two areas into harmony so that you could say something like "This game uses the rule of 4s...." which is quite elegant. But again, Tim and I had no real problems handling the separate rule elements.

The flavor of OGAM (gods and mortals clashing on a battlefield) doesn't resonate particularly well with me, so I don't see myself playing out the games described in the rulebook (Heracles + Greeks vs. Anubis + Egyptians). But it's perfectly serviceable for more typical fantasy games, which is how I expect we'll end up using it. Really, I see OGAM as more of a "stopgap" solution until the official large-scale SBH game (Song of Armies & Hordes I think?) is released, hopefully in the next 18 months or so.

The verdict: OGAM is a great game for our club! We've got quite a nice collection of fantasy miniatures now, and this game gives us a chance to get them all on the table using our favorite rules engine. I look forward to introducing everyone to OGAM in the future. Stay tuned!

-- Patrick, Chicago Skirmish Wargames club member

Mech Attack Battle Report from Little Wars

Last month, the club put on a game of Mech Attack at the Little Wars convention in suburban Chicago. As with last year's game, we again invited players to witness the spectacle of giant 28mm scale mechs stomping across the table blasting each other to pieces.

We made a few changes for this year's game. First, the new scenario focused not on destroying the enemy mechs (though there was plenty of that) but rather on destroying or defending key objectives. Also, we removed the 28mm infantry component, added more mechs, and included some new models.

This year's scenario was a continuation of last year's game. In the year 2166, with the Unified Colonies nearly driven from Melk 3, they again turned their wrath on St. Martin's Parish, a small outpost that had first blunted the UC's expeditionary elements in 2165.

With planetary occupation no longer feasible, this punitive raid of revenge sent an armored wedge of mechs and vehicles into combat along an urban industrial corridor.

This was a four-player team game, with each player controlling three or four units. The grey units represented the Melk Defense Command (MDC). The green units represented the Unified Colonies (UC) punitive expeditionary attackers.

Objectives 

• UC Attackers - Score 150 points by destroying defender's pillboxes 
• MDC Defenders - Keep the attackers from scoring 150 points within the two-hour allotted game time 

Each pillbox was able to take 30 points of damage before being destroyed.

The picture below shows the layout of the terrain from the defender's position. Note the four pillboxes -- each was secretly assigned a value by the defenders before the game started. They were:

• Command Center (100 Points) 
• 2 Ammo Dumps (50 points each) - When destroyed, they deliver a medium missile hit to a blast area determined by a d10 roll. 
• Comms Center (50 Points) - When destroyed, the attacker gets a free standard move for all of his units to represent them taking advantage of the defender's lack of coordination 

Defenders were also allowed to place their mechs anywhere in the city.

The UC set up on the opposite table edge. They were allowed to keep units off the board as reserves, though no one took advantage of this rule.

The UC controlling the slightly-lower-tech Conscript mech squad, shown below, deployed slightly deeper into the industrial corridor.

Here's a look at the start of the game (minus the Conscripts, which arrived moments later).

After a bit of rules explanation, we were off! Several players were returning veterans from last year's Mech Attack game, and they proved invaluable in helping the new players get up to speed quickly.

On turn one, the UC attackers advanced up the left flank.

A small UC contingent held the center of the table to discourage flanking by the defenders.

The MDC defenders were able to stymie any advance by the attackers in the center by committing just a few units to that area.

It wasn't long before a UC Centurion succumbed to enemy fire.

On the other side of the board, however, the UC pressed their attack with some success.

The lead conscript rounded an office building and brought his weapons to bear on the first pillbox.

His comrades soon joined in and destroyed the pillbox, which turned out to be an ammo dump (worth 50 points). The explosion did only minimal damage to a few nearby mechs, and they continued their advance.

To counter this advance, the UC swept toward their right flank into the city, attempting to flank the attackers...

...and in some places they succeeded.

It wasn't enough, though. The UC pressed their advantage and directed intense firepower on a second pillbox.

The second pillbox exploded, and it turned out to be the Command Center (100 points) giving the UC players 150 points and the victory with just 10 minutes left in the game.

We were very happy with the way the game turned out. Had the Command Center been in a different pillbox, the defenders could well have held off the attack long enough to win the day. Also, the removal of infantry from the game resulted in a much faster scenario. For a game night, I'd probably put them back for more variety, but for a convention game this was definitely the right choice.

Once again, Mech Attack proved to be a fast playing and engaging ruleset that gives all of what you need and love about battlemech combat with none of what you don't. Most importantly, the players were able to quickly learn the rules and really enjoyed the game. All in all, it was a very successful morning.

Many thanks to the Little Wars organizers, HMGS, the players who participated and Armor Grid Games, which gave free copies of Mech Attack to the winners. And extra special thanks to the members of Chicago Skirmish Wargames, who took spent many hours leading up to the event playtesting this scenario and painting mechs. This year's game featured seven new mechs!

I'll leave you with a headshot of one such unit as painted by Mattias. Yep, that's a freehand pinup on a patch of armor smaller than a quarter!

Karl's Thoughts on Little Wars
This year Little Wars was slightly less than last year by most metrics. There were fewer attendees (at least as far as I could tell), vendors (about a third less) and flea market participants. Also, this year's convention lacked a paint-and-take booth, which is always a lot of fun and a great way to kill time between events. Still, it was a good time. I found some good stuff in the flea market, both for myself and to re-sell online to help fund my hobby. As with last time, we didn't have any empty seats at our game. I'll likely return next year with Mech Attack! We now have enough mechs, terrain, and experience that this is a pretty easy game to run at a convention.

Pat's Thoughts on Little Wars
I attended with Karl and the rest of the club and helped run the Mech Attack game.Each year I am surprised that Little Wars never seems to introduce a "Shopper" badge that lets people stroll through the vendor area and just spend money. It would cost them literally nothing and would be a great marketing bit to throw at potential vendors. "We let shoppers in for free, you'll be up to your elbows in grognards and cash-mad dads!"

Consider what happened to me: As a GM, I arrived late and had to haul stuff in the side doors at the last minute. Consequently I never got a badge -- and I didn't notice until our game was over and I was headed to the vendor area. I got stopped by a LW volunteer who told me I had to go register. I got a guest badge (because at that point I had about 45 left before I had to leave), but a guest badge doesn't officially allow you to shop in the vendor area. My wallet would have been $80 - $100 lighter if I had the opportunity to just buy some stuff on a guest badge. Again, why not? Open the floodgates to casual shoppers! Promote this on the web! I don't see how this can by anything but a master stroke for all involved.

I think there is a fundamental disconnect between the perceived customer base at Little Wars. Organizers believe that everyone who walks through the door is a player and should share the responsibility for planning and running Little Wars, not to mention renting out the DuPage Expo Center for the weekend. The vendors pay only for their table space. However, this calculus leaves no room for new blood -- casual gamers and suburban dads who might wander in after hearing about this "toy soldier show" taking place in town and think it might be a great place to take their 11-year-old sons for a few hours. These are the very elements that HMGS needs to attract if it is to remain relevant.

I'm not privy to the internal economics of Little Wars, and of course I'm grateful to the all-volunteer crew that puts it together. We're looking forward to next year's Little Wars -- just make it a little easier for us to buy stuff, please!

-- Karl and Pat, Chicago Skirmish Wargames club members
-- Photos by Josh, Chicago Skirmish Wargames club member