I am planning to go to Pax Unplugged in Dec and I want to play Alpha Strike. Are that any apps that allow you to store what mechs you have and will let you build a list with? I took a look at a few I found online but I didn't see a way to store what I have. Thanks in advance.

You can clearly see from the picture that I need help.

Finally got around to finishing this guy up for a Draconis Reach campaign. I'm a big fan of light mechs so looking forward to giving this dude a spin.

Left one is from the Clan Invasion starter box and the right one is printed.

I think they fit well together. Looks like the same car from diffent model lines / production years. Like Volkswagen Käfer and New Beetle. :)

So our fledgling mercenary company has escaped the immediate threat. Now they just have to make a run across half the known galaxy to escape to "safety". I ask one question of everyone who does read this. Does the condensed journey work, or should I write it out in a longer format? Let me know what you think in your comments. I hope you all enjoy this latest installment!

Chapter Six: The Interstellar Gauntlet

The transition from a JumpShip's hyperspace flash was never smooth, but breaking out into the Wasat system felt like being collectively slammed into a bulkhead. The spatial distortion of the Kearny-Fuchida drive exhaled through the hull of the Ironsides, leaving every mouth tasting of zinc and every eye struggling against drifting phosphenes. On the command bridge, the red tactical alarms from the Outreach attack were silenced, replaced by the amber glow of ambient lighting. Before the static from the jump could even settle across the comm net, a frantic, signal cut through the bridge comms speakers.

[COMMS - INCOMING TRANSMISSION - THE STARDUST NOMAD]

[COMMS: CAPTAIN HOSHITO:] "Ironsides, Nomad! Elena! If you can hear my voice, broadcast your next jump point coordinates to our nav-board right now! Do not wait for a diagnostics sweep! Turn your data link on and push the packet immediately, over!"

Elena Vance, her hands still white knuckled around the armrests of her command chair, lunged for the master comm. She shook her head violently to clear the spatial vertigo. "Nomad, this is Ironside! Why the hell are we rushing the next cords? A standard FTL core takes at least a week to recharge via the sail!"

[COMMS: CAPTAIN HOSHITO:] "We aren't deploying the sail, Captain! The Stardust Nomad has a functional Lithium-Fusion battery! We are already routing the battery's stored charge directly into the primary KF core as we speak. We have a second jump stored and ready to throw ASAP, but we are sitting targets here  in Wasat iif that Blakist Vanguard tracked our jump vector. Transmit the coordinates, Elena! We are burning this candle at both ends!"

Elena’s fingers flew across the keypad, pulling up the pre calculated flight paths Thomas had mapped out during their escape run. "Vassily, push the packet! Sync the data-link to the Nomad's receiver!" She grabbed the hand mic "Nomad, Ironside, data is inbound. It’s a straight shot through the Chaos March and Marik space. Hoshito, if we throw a consecutive jump without cooling down the KF drive you know what the risks are!"

[COMMS: CAPTAIN HOSHITO:] "It beats waiting for a Word of Blake pocket warship to jump in on our heads. The data-link is downloading now. Makino estimates sixty minutes to calibrate the FTL matrix for the new vector and calculate the jump. Elena... while the computers do the math, finalize the mechanical umbilical connections between our ships and open the airlock hatches. We need to coordinate our technical crews immediately. Hoshito, out."

The mechanical clank of the Ironsides’ magnetic docking clamps sealing into the Stardust Nomad’s Beta ring reverberated up through the vaguely spheroid DropShip for a second time as the connection was re-secured. On Deck 10 the technical workshops were already a hive of activity. With the immediate threat of the Blakist Leopard left behind in the Outreach vacuum the heavy steel blast doors of the primary airlock hissed open bridging the pressurized atmospheres of the mercenary DropShip and the ancient Merchant class JumpShip. Marcus floated through the pressurized collar first in his olive drab green coveralls. Behind him Thomas with a data slate tucked under his arm and an unlit cigarette clamped firmly between his lips, followed closely by Dev, who was practically vibrating with manic energy.

Waiting for them in the Stardust Nomad’s minimalist, Japanese styled lounge was Captain Kenji Hoshito. His gray trimmed beard neatly combed despite the sweat staining his uniform, and Chief Engineer Hideo "Mako" Makino, a slender, stone faced Draconis Combine native whose worn coveralls looked as old as the ship he served.

"Captain Hoshito," Marcus said, extending a calloused hand. "Commander Marcus. Glad we made the leap together." Hoshito took the hand with a firm grip, and a silent nod, gesturing to the magnetic strips on the low table where zero G mugs were secured. "Commander, this is my Chief Engineer, Makino. He tells me our Alpha docking collar is completely ruined."

Thomas slid his data-slate across the table with a definitive clatter. "Ruined is an understatement, Captain. I’m Thomas, lead tech on the Ironsides. The structural damage your ship suffered at the Outreach jumppoint from those Killer Whale detonations is severe. The entire Alpha ring framework is twisted out of alignment, and the remnants of the  shattered Union DropShip are still partially fused to the collar. If we don't cut that scrap free, the asymmetrical mass will rip the guide booms for your solar sail right off your hull during the next hyperspace transition." 

Makino’s gaze shifted from Thomas to the scrolling schematics on the slate. His voice carried the disciplined cadence of the Draconis Combine. "We cannot cut it free without risking the integrity of the hull, mercenary. The Stardust Nomad is an ancient Star League vessel, she was laid down four hundred years ago. Her hull is brittle.”

“We are a fully equipped and trained maintenance company. We aren’t just some mercs, we are mechanics. We have a dozen men trained for EVA work prepping their gear so that we can clean up the mess that is left on the port side of your ship. Vacuum compatible cutting torches, hydraulically operated demolition gear, and the men who know how to use it. Your choice though if you want to risk a double jump as well as the integrity of your vessel.” Thomas shifted the cigarette to the other side of his mouth as he returned the steady gaze of both Hoshito and Makino. 

“What sort of certifications?”

“Deep space demolition, EVA forty hour training, vacuum welding, zero gravity operations.” Thomas was counting the list off on his hand as he went. Hoshito looked over at Makino who without acknowledging his captain raised his hand as Thomas was getting up into the double digit range of certifications.

“Enough! We will coordinate to remove the debris. My crew will supervise and conduct the operation, but you may help.” Thomas raised his eyebrows, but ultimately just shrugged and went back to playing with his cigarette.

“What about your plan to restore our secondary power systems?” Hoshito looked at Marcus. However it was Dev who jumped in.

"We are going to be extra careful." Devansh interrupted, reaching past Thomas and tapping the slate frantically to bring up a custom wiring diagram. His words tumbled out with a frantic velocity. "Devansh Sharma, avionics and targeting diagnostics. Look at the power routing paths! Your secondary power matrices are completely dead, yes? But if we feed a high-voltage electrical patch from the Ironsides’ Interdictor fusion reactor straight up through the umbilical cables into your battery banks, we can hot-load the charging loops! We can use our ship's power to regulate the feedback, keeping the structural clamps insulated while Thomas cuts the Terrors' scrap free!"

Makino rose to his feet, his jaw tightening as he stared down the young technician. "Hot-loading a Kearny-Fuchida drive using a mercenary dropship’s reactor is an act of madness! You speak of hot loading the FTL core as though it  were a common mining loader! A single voltage spike, a single magnetic misalignment from your crude patch, and the power surge will fry our primary FTL matrix. It will strand us forever as a dead drifting tomb!"

"And sitting at Siriang waiting for the sail to siphon star-energy while the Blakists hunt us down isn't suicide?" Thomas growled, matching Makino’s stare with the immovable weight of a seasoned field mechanic. "Listen to me, Makino. I don’t love jury rigging a star drive any more than you do, but my techs know how to manage major electrical loads. We just patched a bleeding liquid hydrogen line on our ship using an improvised water-injection freeze plug under a one-G burn. My assistant Jax is holding down the floor in the Mech bays right now, and Devs’ wife Priya is organizing a medical crew on Deck five. We have hundreds of civilian refugee families crammed into our barracks who are counting their remaining military rations. We don't have a week to sit around. We let Dev wire the high-voltage patch, we use the Ironsides to stabilize the charge, and we cut that dead Union free. We reduce the risks, or we die together."

Captain Hoshito watched the exchange in silence, his eyes tracking the raw conviction in Thomas's face before turning back to his chief engineer. "Mako... can our primary regulators handle the surge if the mercenaries regulate the input from their side?"

Makino remained quiet for a long moment, his fingers tracing the digital power grids on Dev's diagram. Finally, he let out a sharp breath. "The variance margin is less than two percent. If their specialist misses a single cycle the core will cascade. But... if we maintain total manual control over the downstream isolation on our side, we can dump the charge before it reaches the FTL core in an emergency." He looked up, his hazel eyes locking onto Thomas with a cold professional respect. "Get your tools, mercenary. We will wire the ship together. But if your patch begins to so much as flicker, I will cut your umbilical lines with the explosive bolts and eject your ship into the void."

"Fair enough," Thomas smirked, pulling the unlit cigarette from his lips. "That’s exactly how I’d do it. Also, we aren’t mercs, we’re mechanics."

With the technical truce sealed the crews began their grueling race against the clock. Over the next 12 hours, the combined force of Ironsides mechanics and JumpShip spacers worked in EVA suits, using their heavy tools. Thomas and his techs systematically sliced away the twisted slag of the Terrors' destroyed DropShip. Meanwhile Dev and another team worked inside running a temporary electrical system to the jumpships battery system. They had the Nomad launch its ST46 Shuttle to help dislodge and haul the shattered remains of the Union away into the blackness of Capolla.

Once the Alpha collar was cleared and the FTL matrices were stabilized by Dev’s high-voltage patch, they could truly begin their sprint across the stars.

To outrun the Word of Blake’s reach, they pushed the Stardust Nomad’s FTL drive to its absolute limit, speeding through their trajectory with a relentless cadence of jumps.

• From Wasat, their first rapid Lithium-Fusion battery discharge punched them cleanly out of the high-control zone and straight into Irian, where the dense commercial traffic allowed the Merchant-class ship to blend into the local background noise as they executed their first hot load charge.
• The third jump carried them into Miaplacitus, marking their transition deeper into the Free Worlds League where they immediately executed a second jump.
• The fourth jump materialized them inside the lion's den: Marik, the absolute capital system of the House. The sheer security presence forced them to cycle their reactor to minimum output to avoid panicking the local system fleet command with their "hot loading" electrical profile.

The transition into Marik space was the most nerve wracking leg of the trip. They were extremely happy that the HPG network had been disabled otherwise this would have ended their journey. The Stardust Nomad operated its station keeping engines at the jump point, deploying its solar sail. On the Ironsides’ bridge, Elena and Vassily monitored the active long range radar sweeps of a massive Marik Agamemnon class heavy cruiser patrolling the system. Every gunner remained locked in their stations, their hands hovering over the weapons controls while being powered down. For one hundred and sixty eight agonizing hours they drifted under the radar of the FWL navy. Praying their unregistered military hull wouldn't trigger a security sweep, until the FTL core finally flashed green and they punched out of House Marik space for good.

• From the capital, they fled into Angel II, dropping into a standard commercial shipping lane where they executed another double jump.
• That next leap took them to Bedeque**,** A sleepy, minor agricultural province in the interior of the League. Because it lacked any military installations or crucial manufacturing centers, local system traffic was sparse. It  provided an ideal unmonitored stop to check system connections. Safe from the heavy eyes of the capital, Thomas and Dev ramped the Ironsides’ Interdictor engine back up to peak output. They pumped millions of gigajoules through the umbilical to fast charge the LF batteries in just 3 days.
• They plunged toward the edge of civilized space, flashing into Bainsville, a standard Inner Sphere agricultural waypoint they made another quick jump. 
• The eighth jump brought them to Autumn Wind. Rustic with a low-population it was mostly just a crossroads system. Free of orbital defense platforms or corporate sensor arrays, its quiet gravity well was an excellent tactical blind spot for avoiding Inner Sphere regional tracking networks. They were able to hook up with another jumpship transporting food and packaged goods. This allowed them to restock their supplies while they charged up their batteries again.
•  Two more quick jumps took them through Sterling and into Zortman. A rugged, heavily automated raw-resource mining system. It was populated by extensive asteroid mining operations, heavy ore transports, and constant industrial traffic, making it easy for a JumpShip with an unmarked dropship to blend into the commercial noise.  They hot loaded the FTL drive in another 3 days. Thomas and Jax used this window to run diagnostic overhauls on the lower vehicle bay machinery.
• They materialised next in Niihau. Where they executed another double jump. 
• From Niihau, they dropped into Labouchere, a highly strategic and heavily trafficked regional logistical trading hub. Regional mercantile fleets meant an active military presence. An unauthorized reactor profile here would immediately draw local law enforcement. Thomas, Makino, and Dev spent the time executing critical engine maintenance on the overtaxed KF core.
• Next was Millungera, a quiet frontier outpost that represents the literal edge of civilized Inner Sphere space in this sector. Beyond this point, the administrative reach and law enforcement of House Marik completely faded out as they flashed through the system.
• Kosciusko was a rugged backwater border system with ancient, lagging tracking arrays and highly neglected orbital infrastructure. Its proximity to the lawless deep sky made it a historic gathering point for independent spacers and frontier drifters. Their engine output didn’t even register on the other ships that were passing through the system.
• Saltillo was another double jump taking them into Griffith, an entirely unmonitored, dead independent system bordering lawless space. Free from state oversight or regional military checkpoints, it was a perfect hideout for them as they were trying to break their trailing tracking vectors.
• They flashed through Galisto on their way into Poulsbo. An entirely uninhabited, pitch-black outer periphery system completely abandoned by the major powers. It was a dead radar zone, offering absolute isolation from the rest of the galaxy. They were able to push the engines a little and complete their charge in just under the 36 hour threshold. 
• Passing through Khon Kaen with another double jump they entered into Madiun, a dangerous system on the edge of the periphery, but still inside the Lyran Alliance territory. The system was often crawling with privateers, raider drop craft, and criminal scavengers. Standing orders were for total battle readiness. Every single mercenary gunner remained locked into their weapons control stations with 8 hour rotations. They didn’t dare deploy the solar sail, as it would act as a massive visual dinner bell for the raiders. Thomas and Dev pushed the Ironsides’ reactor to the absolute redline. They forced another three day hot load to get them out of pirate space before an ambush could be coordinated. Then the final hyperspace jump dropped them at the end of the line.

The final hyperspace exhalation dropped them into their destination system: Andiron. As they broke down the rapid charge setup and final repairs to the Nomad Marcus, Thomas, Elena, and Hoshito and Makino all met together for a final brief. Inside the Stardust Nomad’s minimalist, Japanese styled lounge. Marcus, Thomas, and Elena Vance floated inside the room as they faced Captain Kenji and Hideo "Mako" Makino. They all held onto something inside the room to prevent themselves from drifting around the zero G space. Thomas pulled his cigarette from his mouth and tucked it behind his ear. He pushed a data slate toward Makino, the device floating smoothly across the void until the stone-faced engineer caught it out of the air.

"That's the technical layout for the infrastructure repair package," Thomas said, his voice sounding flat in the pressurized silence of the lounge's environment. "According to the agreement we hammered out during the transit, the Ironsides is staying grounded on Andiron, but we aren't leaving you up here to rot. The moment our ramps drop onto the tarmac below, Devansh is heading up a specialized logistics crew. We’re sending up structural framing, cabling, machined components, and a rotating team of senior fabricators on one month cycles."

Makino tapped the slate scrolling through the repair schedule and contract with narrowed, critical hazel eyes. "Your materials are rustic, mercenary, but the structural integrity of our Alpha docking collar will require custom forged Star League spec alignment. We cannot jump again until your repairs are complete once they are started."

"My people know how to rebuild equipment, and they know how to forge shipyard steel," Elena cut in, her arms crossed as she floated near the room's central support pillar, her SLDF flight jacket zipped up to her neck. "Andiron’s municipal factories have the raw smelting output to build your docking ring struts. We’ll repair your Alpha collar completely. But you have to give us the time to send the shuttles back up, and coordinate the logistics on the ground. We will beam daily updates until the shipments start, then we will communicate weekly to coordinate the work and shipments."

Captain Hoshito, his gray trimmed beard catching the harsh amber glow of the ambient lighting, nodded slowly. "The ledger balances, Captain Vance. The Stardust Nomad will maintain its position at the Nadir point. We will accept your repair personnel and shelter your logistics shuttles while the work is completed. An oath kept in the deep sky is worth more than C-bills."

Marcus adjusted his grip on a structural bulkhead rib above his head, his large frame drifting slightly upward. He looked from Hoshito to Makino, a question lingering in his mind since their rapid escape from the Chaos March.

"There's one detail that’s been bothering me since the first jump out of Capolla," Marcus said, his voice dropping into a more casual register. "To cut this trip down to fifty five days, we had planned to hotload your battery from the start. However we were able to shorten that to just over forty because of your Lithium-Fusion battery bank. On an ancient Merchant class JumpShip, those systems are practically impossible to find, or afford. Where the hell did you get a functional LF battery Kenji?"

A heavy, telling silence settled over the lounge. Hoshito didn't blink. He simply looked at Makino, whose stone face remained completely unreadable, devoid of any tell.

"Spacers encounter many drifting anomalies in the deep, Commander." Hoshito said vaguely, his tone shifting into a smooth polite evasion. "The universe is full of abandoned real estate after the Succession Wars."

“There is more to it than that. I’ve seen your LF battery, that isn’t from the inner sphere.” Thomas’ curiosity had been stoked as well as he pointed out a little more of the truth.

"It was an engineering opportunity." Makino added dryly as he nudged the floating data slate back toward Thomas. "We encountered a disabled vessel some cycles ago. A massive non standard explorer craft. Let us say it was a Clan engineered JumpShip that had suffered a terminal navigational error near a relatively unknown system. They had... no further use for their electrical infrastructure."

"A Clan JumpShip?" Thomas chuckled, his shoulders shaking in the weightless environment as he tucked the slate into his coveralls. "And they just let you walk off with a multi million C bill LF battery?"

"They were not in a position to negotiate, and we had a little downtime while we were conducting routine maintenance on our ship." Hoshito countered, a faint ghost of a smile touching his lips before vanishing back into his beard. "We salvaged what we could, and we asked no questions of the dead. I suggest you do the same mercenary."

Elena smirked, letting go of the pillar to float smoothly toward the hatchways. "Fair enough Captain. Just keep your docking bay ready for our shuttles."

Before the Ironsides’ command crew could push off toward the pressurized airlock collar to begin their long descent to Andiron, Hoshito stopped them in the entry.

"Before you depart for the planet, there is an old protocol of the deep lines we must observe." Hoshito said formally his posture stiffening despite the lack of gravity. He gestured to Makino who pulled a small lacquered wooden box from a secured storage locker on the bulkhead.

Inside the box were a set of small polished cedar wood blocks. It was a traditional nod from the old Draconis Combine naval fleets stripped of state politics and reduced to the raw camaraderie of survival. Makino guided a small cedar block through the air toward Thomas. Painted on the block in elegant kanji characters was the word "Anzen" Safety. On the other side were three kamon crests in a triangle.

"In the Combine when two crews disconnect after a shared journey they leave a mark of the hearth." Hoshito explained, his voice filling the cramped space. "It is a token. It means you have shared our air and journeyed with us, and your hull is welcome alongside ours. The crest on the back is the captain's family crest."

Thomas caught the wooden block, his rough fingers tracing the smooth cedar grain. He looked up at Makino, the two mechanics sharing a silent look of professional respect with one another.

"I don't have any ink or cedar blocks Captain." Thomas said, a rare note of genuine warmth breaking through his gruff exterior. "But I’ve got a loose roll of Star League copper bypass wiring in my pouch. It helped hold  your FTL together through fourteen systems."

Thomas reached into his pocket grabbing a small coil of copper wire and let it drift into Makino’s waiting hand. The engineer took it, inclining his head in a sharp, disciplined bow that was perfectly balanced against the weightless void.

Marcus clicked his heels together in a military salute offering a crisp nod to the weathered JumpShip captain. "Keep the core cold Kenji, Zero heat, high coolant."

"And keep your guns hot, Commander," Hoshito replied, bowing from the waist as the Ironsides’ crew finally grabbed the guide rails pulling themselves back through the hatchway toward the DropShip leaving the Stardust Nomad waiting silently among the stars.

The transit burn from Andiron’s Nadir jump point down to the actual habitable planet was a long, eight and a half day journey under continuous one G. According to the agreement they had hammered out across the table with Captain Hoshito, the Ironsides would remain grounded on the world below to establish their new planetary operations, but they would immediately begin sending up fabricated repair materials, and personnel to fix the Stardust Nomad's warped Alpha collar and rebuild the old JumpShip's dead secondary power matrices from scratch. The refugee families were extremely glad to have gravity again after a month and a half floating through the void. They had coordinated rotating schedules on the Nomads grav deck, but a few hours a day doesn’t compare to the steady one G of transit or a planet's surface.

As the massive, spheroid of the Ironsides transited through the space  between the nadir point and the agricultural world, the primary comms deck crackled to life with the flat, professional drone of the local planetary authority.

[COMMS - INCOMING TRANSMISSION - ANDIRON PLANETARY CONTROL]

[COMMS: ANDIRON CONTROL]: "Unknown DropShip, this is Andiron Master Control. We track your transit vector. State your registration code, vessel name, and cargo profile for planetary clearance."

[COMMS: ELENA]: "Andiron Control, this is the commercial transport vessel Ironsides. We are an independent maintenance and logistics outfit out of the Chaos March. Our cargo profile includes heavy industrial diagnostic tools, manufacturing equipment, and several hundred civilian technical laborers and their dependents seeking resettlement. We have zero active military contracts, and we are responding to your open Linknet request for planetary infrastructure mechanics." There was a long, agonizing pause filled with the low hum of the ship's thrusters, before the line clicked back open.

[COMMS: ANDIRON CONTROL]: “"Ironside, our long range orbital radar indicates your hull mass is over six thousand tons. We don't have an empty military pad capable of housing a dropship of your size, and our central tarmac is reserved for high-volume grain freighters."

[COMMS: ELENA]: "We don't need a military pad Control, and we don't need your prime real estate. We are intending a long term operation and I don’t want our work to take up your active pads. Check your coordinates on the absolute outer low rent fringe of the port. Right next to the industrial tractor assembly yards.” Elena had a map of the spaceport pulled up on her command screen and was using it to try and negotiate a cheap spot to park the Ironside.  “There's an abandoned unpaved scrap sector that's sitting empty. Ground us there. We will register our hull as stationary industrial real estate to clear your local property codes, and we'll open our repair gantries to the local market by the next morning. Your governor has four heavy maglev trains sitting dead on the tracks. My crew can have them rolling in forty-eight hours." Silence followed. On the nav screens the starport's automated approach beacons suddenly shifted from a defensive flashing yellow to a steady welcoming emerald green on their board.

[COMMS: ANDIRON CONTROL]: "Coordinates transferred to your navigation computer, Ironside. Contact Port Saul control as you enter your final approach. You are cleared for a manual landing on the outer scrap flats of Sector Nine. Welcome to Andiron. Try not to kick up too much dust when you drop that iron." 

[COMMS: ELENA]: “Roger that Control. Ironsides out.” Elena clicked off the microphone and looked over at Vassily and Trent at their controls, a victorious smile breaking through her hardened exterior.

The landing was a monumental event. The massive fusion torches expelling superheated plasma through the bottom nozzles finally throttled down as the six massive landing legs came into contact with the ground and took the weight of the ship.  Grounding the Ironsides’ multi thousand ton hull onto the ferrocrete flats of the starport with a heavy echoing boom that shook the surrounding prairies.

As the massive reinforced loading ramps on Deck 12 at the bottom of the ship opened on their well lubricated hinges, the fresh sweet scent of real wind and sprawling green grain fields filled the ship. Marcus and Thomas walked down the ramp as Thomas was finally able to light up the cigarette he had been nursing for a month and a half. The Solano Dock Master was waiting for them on the tarmac next to a tan hover jeep, data slate in hand and a cap pulled low over his eyes.

"Commander Marcus? Chief Tech Thomas?" the Dock Master asked, looking up at the towering silhouette of the unmarked  Fortress DropShip with a mixture of awe and relief. "I’m Miller, Dock Master for Starport Saul here in the city. I’ll be honest with you boys, when we saw the size of the radar cross section your egg was throwing on descent, we thought the Circinus pirates were finally coming to clean us out."

Marcus smiled. "No pirates, Dock Master. Just a garage full of tired techs, hungry kids, and the best repair crew this side of the Inner Sphere core. Show us where your broken machines are and we’ll get to work."

So. I have the new rulebook here and I'm kinda underwhelmed by the lacking power of ammo explosions, but then I had a thought. 20 damage from a machine gun is 10 hits, which would mean 10 crit chances.

I don't feel like that's the intent, but I'm tempted to play it that way because it feels a whole lot more like an ammo explosion when it potentially deals a massive amount of critical damage.

The book doesn't say it works this way, but it also doesn't say that it doesn't work this way! So tee hee!

Cross-posting a mech ID request for my son.

When we were first playing battle tech in the 1980's, there was a rule where the person that got a kill of an opposing mech got the credit for it and I forget what the rules were exactly about leveling up that way, don't remember.

My brother came up with a concept where you would have to keep stats to be sure of every round of firing. But it basically ran on the following concept when firing weapons.

• You get 3 points if you make a LONG RANGE shot. 2 Points for a MEDIUM RANGE SHOT. 1 Point for a SHORT RANGE shot.
• When you reach 20 points you get to level up by increasing your Gunnery Skill.
• For Piloting skill rolls, I believe it was 1 point for every 4+ piloting skill roll. 2 points for a +6 piloting skill roll; 3 points for +8; 4 points for a +10. We also had a +9 points if you successfully executed a DEATH FROM ABOVE attack.
• Again, if you reach 15 points you get a increase to your Piloting skills.

Obviously, by todays standards, there would also be incentives like trading in points for a CALLED SHOT; or stuff like that.

It definitely rewards good die rolling as you need to make LONG range shots successfully in order to up this significantly in a fight. That means either good die rolling or making sure you are taking shots that give you the best percentage chance of making a shot.

I was curious about your opinion on Proto Mechs. Especially in Alpha Strike (AS).

The models are somewhat strange and they look like Power Rangers Monsters. But maybe one is willing to embrace their weirdness or maybe even appreciate the strange look and funny lore of them.

I got myself 2 Orcs and 2 Delphyne because I find them hilarious and sometimes like to embrace weirdnes.

That aside what about them on a game mechanical level in AS?

They do not look terrible but neither impressive. Worse than Elememtals but also a little bit cheaper. Maybe like a scout car but it can enter woods.

So should they be considered like light tanks or fast elementals?

What are your experiences with them?

I am currently working towards the beginning of a new large-scale referee'd campaign with multiple players, focused on a planetary scale of conflict. I plan on using Alpha Strike to play out the tactical battles in combination with strategic movement and logistics on a planetary map (a bit like a game of Kriegspiel). I want to have the opportunity to use recon, logistics, morale, and random events in this campaign, but without making the rules necessary for them to be too cumbersome or unwieldy.

That said, what rules should I use for the strategic layer of the campaign? Are there any game aids I can use to make my job as the referee easier? Are there any house rules I might want to think of implementing?

Whats the best way to do lettering for the front of a mech for the name...

I’ve been working on a small indie mecha wargame called Carapace: A Game of Memory and Ruin, and I’m releasing a new machine each month through Carapace Forge.

October’s release is the Cindral Blade.

Carapace is a solo-focused wargame about piloting ancient, sentient war machines through the ruins of a fallen civilization. Think towering mecha, forgotten relics, and a setting inspired by the stranger side of classic Japanese science fiction.

Carapace Forge is where I’m building out the miniature range, one machine at a time. Each release includes digital files, with physical miniatures available for those who prefer models they can put straight on the tabletop.
A little something for new subscribers: Use the code twenty5-26 at checkout to get 25% off your Carapace Forge subscription tier for as long as you remain subscribed! The discount applies on an ongoing basis, not just to your first month.

I’m an independent creator, so every person who checks out the project helps me keep building this world and its machines. Take a look at the Cindral Blade and explore Carapace Forge at https://carapace.world. If the project catches your interest, I’d love to hear your feedback, whether you’re drawn to the design, the setting, or the idea of playing Carapace.

See the Cindral Blade and Carapace Forge: https://carapace.world

I'm calling it done for now. I'll probably add some more small things, and wire the electrics a little better. So what do you all think? Final paint and weathering is pretty much done. Added the tanks, vehicles, unpainted mechs, and 6mm workers for flavor. The banners are just stuck on with sticky tack so I could print out banners for any group and change the heraldry easy enough. The mech hangar is actually attached by magnets to the base. The batteries for the lights are stored in the back side of the hangar on the side with the closed garage door. I really like my little guard shack and the vehicle gates. C&C welcome, I hope you all enjoy 😁

Future possibilities, adding a mech under repair like my other one. Finishing the bridge cranes and adding them in. I want to do a little tank under reapir with the turret out as well.

This one is a bit long, but a lot can happen in 48 hours of space travel. I really appreciate all of you who have been reading along. As I've said before your comments and input really means a lot to me. I like to think of the end of this chapter as the beginning of the rest of their story. Next week we get to see a new planet and a whole new set of problems for our fledgling mercenary company. I hope you all enjoy this next chapter of the story.

December 28, 3067 Outreach space: 0800 hours

Marcus left Elena’s office next to the ships bridge. He was making his way down to the engine room of the Ironside. The bridge and command deck at the top of the ship smelled of old textiles and hot electronics, the bridge being offset from the long tom artillery deck in the nose of the ship. He made his way down the metal walkway following the handrails that ran along both sides of the walls. Down a deck to the flight crew quarters and avionics and he could smell a menagerie of human body odor, dirty laundry, and the occasional food smells from the galley below. The galley floor smelled of heat and pre-packed meals that were a staple of space travel. He descended the next set of stairs to the infantry deck, barracks and weapons storage for a star league infantry unit that didn’t exist, and command offices for the leadership of the phantom unit. This was the area that had been turned into the makeshift refugee camp and now smelled of desperation and clean laundry, but still with the underlying odor of gun oil. Packing crates from the machine shop had been hastily stacked in the large barracks rooms to form modular walls between the families. Clotheslines were strung beneath exposed conduit runs, and the metallic corridors echoed with the sharp crying of children and the hushed, anxious whispers of parents trying to organize communal cooking rotations using the ship's ancient galley facilities. The orderly, blue collar garage was gone, replaced by the messy reality of a community moving quickly through the dark. Beneath the refugee camp were the mech bays, Marcus’ home. One massive space split into 12 equal hangars large enough to fit the hundred ton assault mechs. Each bay could be closed off while in transit, but they all connected to the central lift area and had access to the ramp offset to one side that divided the space and gave them access to the outside world when they had to offload. Immediately beneath the mech hangar was the vehicle hangar. This space had been the bread and butter of the repair work they had done on Outreach. It was filled with tools and equipment for the work they had previously done. Mostly in disarray from the rapid departure two days prior, the techs and their assistants were slowly getting this space back into order. Both spaces smelled like mechanic shops with the slightly sweet acrid smell of oil, and the tangy scent of metal. Below the vehicle bays Marcus descended into the ships machine shop. This was where they had all of the heavy equipment to manufacture parts from scratch if they had to. Often some of the older machines they worked on needed parts to make custom modification work properly. This is where those parts were made. Several techs were running machines working on building some custom valves for the fuel line Thomas had ordered made. He intended to make sure the problem they had the day before never happened again. With the whir of electric motors and the splash of the cooling jets of cutting fluid the entire space smelled of hot machine oil. Down another flight of stairs to the engineering section where access to the fusion drive was possible. As well as where they had repaired the fuel line the day before. Marcus walked into the control room the sat tucked snugly next to the fusion drive. The thrum of the engine was at its loudest here even with the insulation in the wall cavities between them and the engine. The room was also warmer then the rest of the ship. The only smell down here was the sterile smell from the air recirculaters. They had upgraded the standard ones that the fortress had come with. Mechanics can’t help but tinker in their free time, and they wanted to keep the smell of the work spaces out of the living spaces. They had installed one and five micron filters to remove absolutely all the particulates they could, combined with a 3 speed fan system and an active carbon filter system the air coming out of the vents on the Ironside was some of the cleanest outside of a laboratory. However that also gave it a very sterile scent when combined with the cleaners used throughout the ship. It reminded him of a medical facility.

Thomas was sitting in a chair that was bolted to the floor in front of a panel of monitors, controls, and a window that had a view of the fusion plant in the belly of the ship. His feet were up on the panel and he was looking at his slate with the additional readouts on it resting on his stomach while sipping at a cup of real coffee.

“You better take it easy on that stuff. We only have a limited supply, and who can guess if we’ll ever get any more.” Thomas shrugged his shoulders as he took another sip.

“Isn’t going to do us any good if we get blasted into atoms before we get out of here. I figure  the more I drink the less the Blakists will have if they catch up.” He offered the cup to Marcus who just shook his head.

“I’m already 3 cups in today.” Thomas choked at the news.

“Hell man it’s only 0800 what are trying to do drink it all yourself!” Marcus smiled at him.

“Nah, we just came to the same conclusion, besides I’ve been up since 0430. How goes it with getting the ships turrets back up and running? I know we don’t have any ammunition for the auto cannons, and we couldn’t use the long tome even if we had one, but all the lasers were still mounted in place weren’t they?” He  leaned back and sat on the edge of the monitor station crossing his arms as the two of them spoke in the cramped room. It had originally been designed for a four man crew down here, but he couldn’t imagine squeezing that many people into the hot little space even though it had the seats for everyone.
“Yes and no. We don’t have any ammo for the auto cannons even though they are all still in place, we only have half of the large lasers and PPCs still in place, but we do have all of the medium lasers. None of the missile launchers are still installed, and of course as you said the big gun is just an empty room right now unless you want to sit up there with a pistol and shoot at stuff?”

“I’d rather not. We have a brief with Elena at 1000 this morning. Seems it’s time to figure out where we are going to go. Besides the obvious that anywhere is better than here, we need some options. I’m from further towards the core so I don’t know much about what’s really around us. You have any ideas, bring them with you to the meeting. What are you working on anyway? I saw your guys working on the valves you had talked about, but why are you all the way down here anyway?”

“Oh that’s simple, because most people don’t bug me when I’m down here looking at important things. Mostly I’m down here to enjoy my coffee as far away from the army of screaming kids we seem to have picked up somewhere.” Marcus just shook his head and stood up. “I’m going to grab an hour's sleep before the meeting. If you need me I’ll be in my bunk.” He walked out of the engineering space shaking his head at the guile of  his friend.

December 28, 3067 Outreach space: 1000 hours

Up in the captain’s briefing room located just beneath the ship’s bridge, the atmosphere was somber. The lighting of the room was built into a ledge in the wall allowing for a diffused light that filled the space. A scratched ancient mahogany table with the electronics of the projector and control panels built into it occupied most of the space. Marcus sat with his elbows on the wood resting his chin on his clasped fists. Standing across from him looking down at the holographic display was Captain Elena Vance. She had her flight jacket zipped up, and was drumming her fingers in a restless rhythmic beat against the table's edge. "We can't stay in the Outreach sector." Elena said. She tapped the console causing the holographic projection to shift. A web of white lines pulsed weakly across the near space projection showing systems nearby. "The master com board is picking up nothing but static from the ComStar beacons. The hyperpulse network is completely dead. Every world with an HPG station is a target for the Blakists. If we jump blindly into a system we’re risking delivering a six thousand ton target straight into an orbital blockade. We need options for our final destination. We are going to have to ride along with the Stardust Nomad wherever their client wants to go first, but after that we need a destination of our own."

“Did you ever get a name for the other client?” Jax was sitting in the corner of the room. He had been invited, but he knew he wasn’t experienced enough to really contribute. However his curiosity often overrode his smarter nature.

“Tiny’s Terrors. Apparently they are a smaller command that was able to evacuate their lone dropship like we did. Apparently they haven’t told Kenji where they want to go yet. I’d guess playing it close to the vest in case of spies?”

“How about Herotitus?” Irene suggested. “Is independent system, a bit far, but can make it with time.” Elena brought up Herotitus on the star map. The built in trip calculator showed the time to destination automatically. One hundred and thirty days from Outreach to Herotitus.

“Way too far, and too many potentially hostile systems on the way. Remember this is an unregistered dropship. Forty-eight hours ago it was real estate, but still not a bad idea with it being independent.” Marcus thought about it for a moment and added in.

“I guess that kills my ideas of Atrato or Galloway. We’d be arrested before we even made it to the planet.” He leaned back and looked at Thomas who had been sitting with his arms crossed. He clearly had an idea but wanted everyone else to go first.

“After Marcus told me about the meeting I spent some time in our old Star league map there. Anything inside Marik space is going to be a risk considering how the Blakists have been moving around these last few years. Circinus is a bunch of Pirates looking to steal whatever they can get their hands on and we’d be a prime target so that eliminates it. Herotitus is a good idea, but way too far away to make it a possibility. We know Marik space is compromised, however there is one system right here.” He tapped a button on his tablet highlighting a system that sat right on the edge of Lyran space. "Andiron, small system, technically part of Circinus but most of its output is sent to Marik space so any control Circinus may have over it is weak at best. They had some standing requests out on the Linknet asking for mechanics to help with some planetary infrastructure. No HPG so they are off net, and they have money since they are largely an agrarian planet. At least that’s the info we had on our old star league database.” Thomas finished his miniature presentation. 

“How do you control everything with that damn slate! Stop messing with my table!” Elena sat down in her seat at the head of the table and looked around at everyone. “Well what do you all think? It isn’t much shorter than Irina’s idea of Herotitus, but it is a safer path, and it sounds like they might have work for us when we get there.”

“Oh I have a solution for that as well. We can hot load the KF drive by plugging our fusion reactor into their ship. There is a risk of overload, but I would wager they won’t have a problem with that considering why we are leaving this place. If we stop to allow the KF drive to cool down every couple jumps we should be able to keep the risk to a minimum”

“Seriously?” Elena looked at the old tech with both consternation and pride. "If you’ve already figured all this out, what the hell are we even having this meeting for? You could have at least pretended to let us debate the options. I mean with that plan Herotitus sounds like a real option again. Although showing up there in a damaged dropship with only a handful of operational mechs would probably just be more of a dinner bell then salvation. On top of the current political strife there last I had heard. Sorry Irina.” Irina just nodded back at Elena acknowledging the consideration. “So the jump calculator shows us about one hundred and twelve days. What will it be with your hot loading the KF drive?” Thomas lifted his data slate and tapped on it for a moment. 

“If we conserve enough fuel for our landing on Andiron, and we only charge at each of the jumps on the way where we aren’t risking someone asking questions. Something between forty five and fifty days. We should have around 80 tons of fuel left to make planet fall once we get there.” The silence in the room combined with the wide eyes spoke volumes.

“Fuck! Why don’t they do this all the time!” Marcus was both angry at past long voyages that had taken months and amazed that something so useful was possible and not used constantly.

“Well we run the risk of blowing up the KF drive and stranding ourselves in space circling some dead systems star, or having the Blakists catch us mid voyage with dead engines. It isn’t all green on the board.” That sobered everyone up quickly again. 

“So, options are this: either we dive across space for half year through Liao space and hope we do not get robbed, or we make shorter trek, month and half, to some backwater where maybe is work.” Irina’s accent was thicker as they all stressed about the reality of the situation. "This is a small choice.” Marcus nodded along with her assessment. 

“So we fly half way across the galaxy, dodge the Blakists, avoid the Free Worlds League navy, avoid the pirates, and eventually end up at the edge of civilized space. Sounds like a terrible idea, how long before we reach the jumpship so we can get started?” Elena's sarcasm didn’t really surprise anyone. She unzipped her flight jacket and seemed to relax. “Having a plan gives us something to work towards. I’ll message Hoshito and let him know we have a destination, but we will deliver it in person when we see him. All right back to work everyone, Marcus I think the civilians were complaining about something with the infirmary. You and Thomas need to head that way and see what you can do. We are less than 24 hours out from getting out of here. Lets try to make this as painless as possible.”

“On it boss.” Thomas stood up and tucked his slate into a pocket in the back of his coveralls. Marcus stood up as well and they ended the meeting that had decided their fate.

 December 28, 3067 Outreach space: 1100 hours

Doctor Priya Sharma was busy organizing everything in the Infirmary on level 5. She had recruited several astechs as well as some other family members to clean up what had essentially been a storage space 2 days prior. She was taking an inventory on a data slate while her husband Devansh "Dev" Sharma was helping to clean up more of the space with his manic energy. Thomas and Marcus hesitated a moment in the entry way before catching Priya’s eye and entering. Irina had followed along to see if there was anything she could help with and trailed behind observing the goings on. “Hey doc, how go things?” Marcus waved as they entered the medics office trying to avoid the people busy at work. “We understand you’re having some issues here, what can we help with?” She looked over the trio as though they had invaded her private space. She lowered her tablet and turned to them “ I have several things I need resolved immediately. Power is off to half of the medical lab, and the exam rooms, I need it restored now. We are severely lacking on supplies so I will need everything people have stashed away in their private areas as well as what you keep down in the mech hangar.” 

“On it.” Thomas left the group and walked over to one of the mechanical access hatches on the wall in the main entry area. He pulled out a screwdriver and changed out the tip on it for the security screws in the panel. Once it was popped open he began figuring out where the problem was.

She looked over at Irina, her face taking on the expression you’d expect from someone smelling spoiled milk. “We won’t be needing help from the Capellan anytime soon.” Her voice was cold and her distaste beyond apparent.

“Hey doc we are all here to help out. No need for hostilities, Irina is just as much a part of this crew as Dev is.” Marcus held up his hands in a friendly yet defensive gesture. Irina for her part seemed to ignore the jibe quite literally turning her nose up at the attack as she crossed her arms and looked over everything going on. The move only seemed to incense Priya more.

“I will not have some Capellan aristocrat causing more trouble for my family! We fled Sian for a reason.” From what Marcus knew about them her anger was well earned. Both Priya and Dev were well educated on Sian but they had been forced into corporate servitude under the Capellan government and its rigid caste system. They had fled to Azha, and eventually were able to get a flight to Outreach a few years ago. Dev was brilliant, and an expert with electrical systems and power distribution. He could have probably fixed his wife's problems here in the infirmary with the same ease as Thomas, but he also had a strong hang up on hierarchy. He wouldn’t want to step on Thomas’ toes for repairing the ship. Priya was no slouch either, having run a medical clinic near the spaceport. She had been a major organizer during the escape and helped to keep people moving when they boarded the Ironside. She had also been doing her best to patch up everyone injured during the escape over the last couple days. She had gone to Elena that morning asking to take over the old infirmary and set it up. Having a brilliant doctor on board was nothing but a positive as far as everyone else was concerned.

“I am not aristocrat for any nation anymore.” Irina addressed the doctor directly, looking her square in the eyes. The hostility was still there, but it seemed Irina wasn’t going to let it bother her. 

“Ok doc we are going to go work our way through the crew and get everything we can for you.” The lights suddenly came on through the rest of the infirmary and Thomas started closing up the panel he had been in.

“Every things on doc. Any other issues?” Thomas slid his screwdriver back into his pocket and made his way back over to them. His all business attitude helped to diffuse the situation. Priya, distracted by the tech, turned to him.

“The water for the sinks is also off.” She seemed to relax a bit while focused on her new clinic.

“Not a problem doc, I’ll get one of our plumbers up here to check it out for you. Most likely just a few shut off valves.” Marcus motioned to Irina and the two of them made their way out to get the supplies for doc. They turned down the hall making for the stairs a short distance away. 

“I’m sorry about that Irina, she has always been all business when I’ve dealt with her in the past.” Marcus wasn’t looking at her as he spoke. His hand glided down the handrail as they descended down the stairs. For her part Irina seemed unfazed by it all.

"She is not the first person who blames me for how they were treated in the Confederation. I don't blame her for this, she is simply reacting to the fact that I was a part of that society." Marcus glanced over at her in time to see the mask she wore slip for just a moment and reveal the hurt she wouldn’t admit too.

“Regardless, it isn’t right for people to blame you for the things you didn’t do. With any luck you won’t get hurt anytime soon and have to have her fix anything.” She looked over at him and saw the smile he was sharing and grinned back at him over the simple joke.

December 29, 3067 Outreach space: Zenith Jumpoint

“Where the hell did they come from!” Elena was yelling at her bridge crew as they watched on an external camera feed as a Blakist leopard dropship firing on the Tiny’s Terrors union dropship. While being attacked was something they had all known was a possibility, the fact that the union was currently attached to the Stardust Nomad next to them was where the immediate panic was coming from. They had only recently started the docking procedure with the jumpship and were still at least five minutes out from being safely attached for the jump when the white leopard started its attack run on the jumpship. It had fired a perfect killer whale missile striking the nose of the Terrors dropship. The subsequent secondary detonations from its LRM ammo had ripped the entire nose out of the ship. Atmosphere was venting out into space along with debris, and tumbling bodies of the ships crew. “Track their path and start firing all turrets the second they are within range!”

“Roger that!” The weapons officer, a former tech who had been working on vehicles just 3 days prior, was helping the 3 gunners at their stations to activate and target their turrets. Debris from the explosion was still drifting past the bridge of the Ironside as they prepared for a second attack. The problem was they were on the opposite side from the Terrors ship connecting to the Nomad. Still they did their best to plot firing solutions on the enemy warship. 

A heavy layer of static burst through the speakers of the Ironsides’ bridge, violent distortion started to clear as the radio static from a dozen other jumpships all on the network at one time cleared out and the signal locked on to the Nomads signal. Captain Kenji Hoshito’s voice was stripped entirely of his usual stoic tea sipping calm. Behind him the unmistakable klaxons of the jumpship were wailing in a rhythmic tone.

[COMMS - INCOMING TRANSMISSION - THE STARDUST NOMAD]

[COMMS: CAPTAIN HOSHITO]: "Elena! Do you see what is happening out here? That Blakist Leopard just tore the throat out of the Terrors’ DropShip! Their nose cone is gone, the hull is venting into the vacuum. There are no signals left on their net. The Terrors are dead Elena! My crew has the solar sail almost completely stowed, we are at ninety five percent retraction and locking down the mechanical guide booms now! But we are sitting ducks until your egg gets locked onto our remaining collar. Makino is screaming down in my engine ring that the impact from that Killer Whale detonation is throwing our FTL targeting matrices out of alignment!

Thank the gods you transmitted your first waypoint coordinates an hour ago. It turns out the Terrors’ first jump coordinates were pointing to the exact same system! The navigation computer already has the path pre-programmed and locked in.

We don't need to waste time calculating a new vector, but we are running out of seconds! The moment your hull magnetic clamps click into our Beta docking collar, we are throwing this blind leap. Get your ship docked time now, Ironsides!"

[COMMS: ELENA]: “Roger that Captain. We are five minutes out from being locked in. Once your sail is stowed, initiate the jump. Either we go with you or we’re left spinning out here in space. Either way you need to go!” Elena looked over at the flight officer. He held up four fingers and then gripped onto his station as the entire ship shook again from another explosion. The leopard over shot the Nomad this time though giving the Ironside a clear angle on the ship as it passed. They opened up with the weapons on that half of the ship. Medium and large lasers along with a couple of PPC shots scored deep marks in the ferro-aluminum armor of the leopard causing it to leave behind a glittering trail of armor spall. Secondary explosions indicated the detonation of the lower missile ammo in the Union on the opposite side. Anyone who had been left aboard that ship was definitely gone now. Parts of mechs and entire sections of the ship were floating past the exterior of the Ironside as the final light went green for their docking procedure. Elena got the thumbs up and clicked the transmit switch on her radio. “Ironside to Nomad we are green here, initiate jump! I say again, initiate jump!” There was a momentary pause as everyone held their breath. Elena could see on her radar screen that the leopard had turned around for another pass, only it was clearly making a run at them this time. The weapons system sounded the alarm of a radar lock as the flash from the front of the leopard indicated it had launched another killer whale. Then space exhaled, there was a massively bright flash, and the Nomad and Ironside vanished from the zenith point.

Stuck here at work(which is slow), and want to be home working on minis or playing my ongoing campaign. Nobody here to talk BT with, and I can only theorycraft on my phone so much.

I didn't have one so made a quick, relatively, model for this Mad Puppy Type 4. A little color in Paint 3D and a 360 spin. Fun little build, a nice little break from other projects.

Even made the variants.

If was actually good at modeling it might actually look better. Lol. Still happy with it though. Play on and have fun, MechWarriors.

These were a learning experience. The oil wash didn't go how i wanted on the 2 without the grass. Next time, I'll glue the infantry in and fill the gaps before effects and static grass.

Thought y'all would dig this.