Clash on the Fringle.pdf

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How did I get myself into this spot again? Last time it was my fault, I admit. I was flying too close to
the sun, though not literally. I'd overestimated the speed of my ship...the prowess of my crew... If you could even
call them "crew". More like the best I could scrounge up on a per-hire basis with a bare pocketful of credits.
To think I was worried about Psychos or The Feral when really it was Unity tax collectors that took me down.
One terse order crackling over the comms followed by a lazy shot across our bow and my "loyal crew" were
climbing over each other to be the first to surrender.
Guess they all had open warrants and preferred doing another short stretch for tax evasion over being blasted into
floating debris. I still think that ship could have outrun the Unity prowlers but that's difficult to manage with
three overweight spacers holding you down and assuring you "it'll all be over soon". And it was over soon.
Within a day of surrender my ship was impounded, my illicit cargo was seized and I was "mercifully"
allowed to bail myself out in exchange for all the credits in my possession.
Ten months slaving as a freelance miner hacking away ore on an asteroid taught me two lessons: always vet your
crew and don't buy cheap air for your spacesuit unless you like tasting stale cheese all day. I lived like a
monk...barely ate...saved every credit.
Finally leased myself a bucket with enough cargo space for that "big load". This time I avoided part-timers and
mercs entirely for a pair of Mark Is. They were a bit rusty but their innards were solid. To the Fringe I returned
like a moth to the flame...
So how did I get myself into this spot again?
I was flying too close to the sun, this time literally. I still had a contact with a group of pirates calling themselves
The Silly Bastards (I guess they weren't into intimidation as a business tactic).
Based on the dark side of a tidally-locked planetoid orbiting a red dwarf they were furiously manufacturing
enough synthetic methamphetamine to get a whole galaxy high.
Trouble was no "legit" smugglers would risk getting that close to a flare star, no matter how much the Bastards
were willing to pay. My contact assured me it was no big deal.
As long as I was careful I could wear that planetoid like a pair of sunglasses all the way in and block out any ill-
effects from an unexpected flare-up. He assured me the pay-off would be worth it.
In my mind's eye all I could see were fat profits, a paid-off ship and a month's vacation in the Pleasure System
with Madam Marishka and her salon full of nubile "massage therapists".
It all seemed to be going well. I dropped in on schedule. Rode that parabolic trajectory like it was second
nature. The bots (I'd named them "Nuts" and "Bolts") performed beautifully.
The Bastards had quite a set-up, including a sprawling bar and a rag-tag merchant district selling just about every
illegal good and service imaginable. While I waited for the Bastards to load up their product I strolled the lit
thoroughfare and marvelled at the variety and depravity.
Walking past a weapons stall I suddenly realized I'd soon be puttering through open space with a fortune in dope in
my cargo hold with nothing to protect it and my own skin but a refurbished hand laser and a pair of mute service
bots.
Skimming the dealer's products I mentioned I was in the market for mountable droid weaponry.
"Well, it's your lucky day, partner!" he slurred. "I've been sitting on a shipment of droid-mounted rock
cutters for months. No one uses the damn things out here. Something about the star deforming the magnetic
field...turns the droids batty. And they can't be used by hand so they're basically worthless. I'll sell you as many
as you want...at cost!"
I talked him down to half price for a pair of cutters. Even if they weren't weapons per se they looked
intimidating once I got them installed and I figured that which cuts rock can do a number on flesh and bone.
Nuts and Bolts were devoid of any combat protocols so I jury-rigged a mining mode that I figured would do the
trick. Just aim at an "ore vein" (in this case a hostile) and fire away.
I made sure to designate myself as "HAZARDOUS GAS POCKET" to discourage any friendly fire on their
part. This busy work killed the rest of my spare time and as soon as the bots were rebooted and ready to go we
were on our way. My hold was brimming with meth and reeking of my future windfall.
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With a self-satisfied grin I punched up the lift-off sequence and blasted off this rock for good.
As we rumbled away from the planetoid - staying in the shadow of the dark side - the outlines of the flare
star began emerging around it in my rear view screen like the white of a fried egg surrounding a jet black yolk.
The red dwarf was so dim you could stare right at it and become mesmerized at the patterns of swirling gas and
plasma. It was during one of these ill-conceived reveries that the star suddenly surged in luminosity and
temporarily blinded me.
I fell forward in my captain's chair, thankful the four-point harness kept me from sprawling to the deck. I
rubbed my eyes until vision slowly returned and thumbed the armrest switch to kill the rear view.
It was then I heard them: Nuts and Bolts each projecting an electronic gargling sound like screws dancing inside a
high-speed blender. I turned and saw them both on their robotic knees, heads arched back and arms outstretched as
if in religious fervour.
No sooner did I ask myself "What the hell?" when out flashed the rock cutters like spears of light, raking the hull
in every conceivable direction.
As I yanked the helmet over my head and slapped the seals closed I saw the hull open up like a blossoming flower
as I was blown out into open space, the chair still strapped to my body.
So here I am...drifting in space. That red dwarf and its attendant planetoid not generating enough gravity
to give me the dignity of a fiery re-entry death. I guess this is it. This is how I check out. Not with a bang, but a
whimper...tasting stale cheese all the way.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Introduction
Play styles
Organizing your troops
Core concepts
A crash course guide to the Fringe
The turn sequence
Movement
Weapons fire
Morale and suppression
Troop ratings
Reaction fire
Close Combat
Leadership
Heroes
Heavy weapons teams
Weapons and gear
Vehicles
Vehicle weapons and gear
Mech armour
Support
Task resolution
Psionics
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Droids
Aliens
Warriors
The Converted
The Swift
Precursors
The Soulless
Engineers
Slavers
The Feral
Manipulators
The Many
The Horde
The Swarm
Brutes
The cast of characters
Humanity
Unity
Psychos
Hulkers
Stalkers
Genetically Unstable Entities
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Monsters
The battle field
Force building
Scenarios
Quick plot generator
Solo play
Campaigns
The edge of civilization
Example of play
Reference
Inspirations
Designer notes
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INTRODUCTION
Welcome to Clash on the Fringe, the game of space adventure combat.
Ready your gauss rifle, make sure the Psion is in good shape and that the batteries of your powered armour are
fully charged.
With a bit of luck, you might even survive the adventure!
SPACE ADVENTURE
Clash on the Fringe
is a tabletop miniatures game, aiming at “Space Adventure Combat”.
This can encompass a wide range of possible scenarios, from intergalactic law-men apprehending
space pirates, military actions, exterminators putting down an alien infestation, interplanetary
bandits pulling off a heist and everything in-between.
Why not simply “War game” ?
I wanted to emphasize that while you can absolutely play military scenarios with
Clash on the
Fringe,
it is by no means the only thing that can happen.
“Space Adventure” encapsulates so much more, whether you are inspired by TV shows, movies,
books or your own imagination.
In the same vein, while the rules allow all the familiar concepts from other Nordic Weasel designs,
such as reaction fire, pinning and morale, they have been tweaked and scaled to promote a very
lively game experience.
A TYPICAL GAME
Clash on the Fringe
can be played with a variety of figures on the table.
At the lower end, a player may command just a single squad or a few characters. On the larger end,
30-40 figures is a good limit before the game starts getting too unwieldy.
A good “standard” game size is 2-3 small squads for each player, with a few supporting characters or
vehicles, especially when starting out.
Don't be afraid to start a bit smaller and work your way up.
THINGS YOU WILL NEED
All dice rolls are simple 10-sided dice (D10).
You will need a way to generate random directions. A D10 in a unique colour can be used. Use the
top point to indicate the direction.
Markers are needed to represent Stress on squads and to indicate individual figures that are Heads
Down.
Any suitable markers can be used. Creative players may fashion small model explosions, dust clouds
and similar.
Lastly, you will need area of effect markers. These can simply be cut out of card board.
Dimensions needed are: 1x3”, 2x2”, 2x4” 2x3” and 1x2”.
Alternatively, you may elect to measure out areas of effect manually, but play may slow down.

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