Confessions of an Automationeer, Part 210: Another Four-Door Cruiser for Keen Drivers

Confessions of an Automationeer, Part 210: Another Four-Door Cruiser for Keen Drivers

The AAA Centurion 6.0 SS wasn't the only fully detailed four-door build I recently made with a Discourse challenge in mind. A few weeks before that, I started work on a more luxury-focused design, the 1992 HPG HL6 4.0 Sport, which you can find more about here - and unlike the AMS Ventnor I made a few years ago, I chose the '89 Ice Cream body set as the starting point. My choice was justified: the Ventnor, being built on the '88 Indicator body set, was too small and light for the brief, and the only other alternative, the '87 Boat body set, wasn't available in the size I wanted to use. With the base body set locked in, I commenced design and engineering work, making sure to work within the limits of the challenge, the rules of which can be found in this post.

Built on a unitary AHS steel chassis with treated steel bodywork (for better rust protection), the HL6 is an outlier among luxury sedans, thanks to its curvaceous, forward-thinking design (at a time when some real-life equivalents were far more angular by comparison) and lighter build (under 1.7 tons in some trims). The Sport package leverages this even further with slightly lower, stiffer suspension (which still retains most of the comfort found in the standard setup) and a viscous limited-slip differential. Powered by a 275-bhp 4.0-liter naturally aspirated 32-valve quad-cam V8, driving the rear wheels via a five-speed advanced automatic gearbox, the HL6 has the thrust to match its looks - and with A-arm front suspension and a multi-link rear end, it delivers a supple ride/handling balance on any road surface.

Above, from top: With its sleek, sporty ambiance, the 1992 HPG HL6 was a breath of fresh air in a segment whose offerings generally had a more stoic look and feel by comparison.

Higher-end trims came with optional air suspension (and even satellite navigation in later years), but even without them, the HL6 was an alluring alternative to the more conservative choices found in the segment. To justify this, it had a luxurious, high-quality interior and CD/cassette stereo sound system, with advanced safety features such as ABS-assisted vented disc brakes at each corner, along with traction control and variable-assist power steering.

Above: The interior of the HPG HL6 was packed with lots of standard equipment, as befitting a full-size luxury car - and offered in a wide range of color/material combinations on customer request, just like the exterior.

In short, the HL6 4.0 Sport is best described as a surprise package within its class: unexpectedly sporty to look at and drive (but in a good way), while still retaining top-tier levels of luxury, safety, technology, and convenience with minimal compromise, even in its most basic form.

Confessions of an Automationeer, Part 209: Centurion Reborn

Confessions of an Automationeer, Part 209: Centurion Reborn

As part of yet another recent Automation Discourse challenge, I embarked on another fully detailed build, this time reusing the name of something I'd made earlier during the Kee era, almost a decade ago. This time, however, I'd only be making a specific trim for the purposes of the challenge I wanted to enter, although others may follow later.

The trim in question - the 2006 AAA Centurion 6.0 SS - is a good example of what I call a "muscle sedan", in which a four-door car has an unusually large and powerful engine slotted into it. Developing a steady 400 horsepower, its 6000cc all-alloy overhead-valve V8 also has enough mid-range torque to make overtaking a breeze, even in the lower gears. Mated to a six-speed manual transmission and helical LSD, the Centurion is quick enough off the mark (0-60 mph in <5 seconds) to keep up with (and even beat) actual sports cars on a winding road or at a permanent circuit, thanks to fully independent suspension (dual-wishbone front/multilink rear) and large vented disc brakes (345mm front discs w/4-piston calipers and 315mm rear discs w/2-piston calipers) at each corner, all set up to provide a sporty driving experience while also maintaining enough comfort for daily use.

Above, from top: The 2006 AAA Centurion 6.0 SS is the high-performance flagship of the Centurion line, and flaunts its sporty image with such cosmetic elements as a raised hood bulge (incorporating a scoop), functional fender vents, and an aerodynamics kit that incorporates real front and rear spoilers.

Built on a high-strength steel chassis with treated steel bodywork, the Centurion 6.0 SS is no stripped-out track special - with a high-quality premium interior and CD stereo sound system, complete with satellite navigation, all five occupants enjoy a surprising level of comfort for a car of this kind. Variable-ratio hydraulic power steering, combined with a full suite of driving aids (ABS plus traction/stability control, the latter of which can be toggled on or off with a button press each), and driver/passenger side airbags (front, side, rear side, knee, and curtain) make it as safe as it is wieldy in traffic. And with 18-inch alloy wheels wrapped in high-performance tires, the Centurion has the grip to match its grunt.

In building the Centurion, I invested a lot of quality points into several critical areas (especially the bottom end, fuel system, drivetrain, interior, body/trim, and suspension) to improve some of its more vital scores (such as sportiness, drivability, and comfort, all of which are crucial for a high-performance daily driver capable of seating four or even five adults). My techpool distribution (within the maximum combined cost of $50 million AMU, split between engine and trim as desired) was mostly similar to the default allocation of +5 in every area, except for +7 each for the bottom end, fuel system, interior, chassis, and gearbox, +6 for safety, and +0 for forced induction (a necessary reduction for anything with a naturally aspirated engine, since any techpool cost that would otherwise be invested there could be reallocated elsewhere).

Above: While the Centurion 6.0 is ostensibly a performance car, it doesn't skimp on safety or creature comforts inside, so you'd have no qualms about using it as a daily driver.

In short, the Centurion may have the heart and soul of a sports car under its hood, but it's still a grown-up premium offering as well, with enough usability to complement its performance - and the looks to back it up.

Confessions of an Automationeer, Part 208: Revitalization

Confessions of an Automationeer, Part 208: Revitalization

While I wait for the Al-Rilma open alpha branch of Automation to be sufficiently stable for my liking, I've been at work reworking some of my existing builds once again, to suit my needs. I gave my favorite UE4-era design, the 1995 LVC LS60, this treatment as preparation for submission in a recent Discourse challenge. The Coupe and Spyder (both of which I've made earlier) have been revised, still sharing the same engine, but now developing 500 horsepower, in a car weighing exactly one metric ton (in coupe form - the Spyder was 10 kilograms heavier) - a formidable power-to-weight ratio by any measure. This time, though, a CS (Club Sport) variant was added, sacrificing some creature comforts to save 60kg, and adding 20 horsepower through a freer-flowing exhaust. Combined with specialized track-focused (but still street-legal) tires, it made an already hardcore hypercar even harder-edged.

Above, from left to right: The entire 1995 LVC LS60 range: Coupe, Spyder and CS.

The LS60 production run numbered just 100 (60 coupes, 30 Spyders and 10 CS models), with production spanning a 24-month period from 1995 to 1997. In that time, it had redefined what was possible when a supercar/hypercar manufacturer took the lightweight approach - razor-sharp throttle response, a stratospheric redline (10,000 rpm!) and near-instantaneous ability to change direction (all while staying under control even in extremis) combined to provide a highly visceral experience unlike anything that came before.

Aesthetically, the LS60 was also noteworthy for drawing heavily on various sports prototypes of the 1960s for inspiration, with sinuous, flowing lines and, on the coupe, a bubble-like glasshouse incorporating a wraparound rear window. However, due to its extreme exclusivity, LVC also produced another mid-engined car below it in their hierarchy - the LS35 - to serve as a replacement for the LS32 that debuted in 1990. Built on an all-aluminum platform, its exterior styling essentially condensed some of the LS60's influences into a smaller, more attainable form, but with a double-bubble roof to further differentiate it from its siblings.

To better fit into its manufacturer's canon, the LS35 had a 3.2-liter engine, in place of the LS32's 3.0-liter unit. But whereas the LS32 (itself the successor to the LS30 of 1979-89) was built on a steel spaceframe clad in wedge-shaped aluminum alloy bodywork, the LS35 had a revolutionary bonded aluminum monocoque chassis underneath its curvaceous outer shell. And while both of them had aerodynamically sculpted undertrays, the LS35 had variable-ratio hydraulic power steering as standard in place of its predecessor's unassisted setup. In addition, the LS35 sends its power to the rear wheels via a six-speed manual gearbox, whereas both the LS30 and LS32 had five-speed gearboxes instead.

Above and below: The 1990 LVC LS32 (medium red) and its restomodded Revo counterpart (bright red). The former packs 300 horsepower from its 3.0L flat-crank V8, in a 1185kg wedge with an aerodynamically sculpted undertray; the latter is a heavily modernized trim with a rebuilt billet-block version of the original engine, but with 50% more horsepower (for a total of 450) and 40kg less weight to exploit it, plus other enhancements such as a six-speed gearbox, larger-diameter wheels, and more aggressive aerodynamics as part of the Revo program.

I also made a restomodded Revo trim of the original LS32 - and could do so for the LS35 if I feel like it. But for now, I'm happily content with the lore regarding the revitalization of LVC's lore during the 1990s - a gap in its history that has thankfully been filled.

Above and below: The LVC LS35 replaced the LS32 for the 1995 model year and ditched its predecessor's wedge profile and steel spaceframe chassis for flowing, organic curves over a glued aluminum monocoque - a company first, and a necessity to minimize weight gain over successive model lines as time went on.

In short, I had a lot of fun (re)designing all three model lines, and with the base model of the LS35 now essentially complete, I feel like giving it the same treatment as the LS60 that sits above it - by adding an open-topped Spyder and a hardcore CS coupe to complement the original.

Confessions of an Automationeer, Part 207: Wedged In

Confessions of an Automationeer, Part 207: Wedged In

After finishing the LVC LS35 earlier this year, I chose to revise its distant ancestor - the 1979 LVC LS30 - for use in a recent Discourse challenge, having chosen not to enter it in a different one which took place more than a year ago. To be fair, I had to clone the entire car, engine and all, and backdate them from 1982 to 1979 for eligibility purposes, and adjust the tech pool distributions accordingly. However, the basic ethos of the design - a small, light sports car which would've qualified for genuine supercar status in its day - remained unaffected. The only aesthetic changes I made were some minor aesthetic revisions and the fitment of a fully detailed interior.

Above, from top: The 1979 LVC LS30 leveraged its light weight and small size to maximize the potency of the 220 horsepower from its 3.0-liter V8 engine.

The 1984 facelift introduced larger brakes and wheels to more easily harness the 30 extra horsepower from its fuel-injected engine, now with four valves per cylinder (instead of two), dual throttle bodies and electronic multipoint injection.

Above, from top: The 1984 QV (Quad-Valve) facelift introduced four-valve heads and multi-point electronic fuel injection for 250 horsepower (up from 220 in the original) and enlarged wheels and brakes.

In many ways, this was the last old-school LVC - it was the last one not to have any electronic driving aids at all, nor did it even have fuel injection at launch. However, it laid the foundations for a dynasty of mid-engined offerings that upheld the brand's reputation for automotive excellence to this day. And its immediate successor - the subject of the next post in this series - is no exception.

Infinite Space Insights: The Price of War

Infinite Space Insights: The Price of War

My most recent playthrough of Infinite Space III: Sea of Stars was just the latest one of many in which I was able to cause two localized vacuum collapses in the same game. I did this by activating a Limited Vacuum Collapser (which I had discovered early on in this playthrough) in one part of the map (which contained the Tchorak and Garthan home systems, as well as a large chunk of nebular mass), before acquiring a Timeless Bauble later on, which I subsequently converted into a second Limited Vacuum Collapser - and this one was detonated closer to Glory (the Terran home system), but not close enough to actually overwrite it (which would've caused this playthrough to end in defeat regardless of what had happened before).

What made this one special was that the second detonation overwrote the system in which, at an earlier point in this playthrough, I discovered the first Limited Vacuum Collapser, and because this map did not meet any of the criteria for the other quests, I triggered the quest to destroy a Yellow Kawangi Dreadnought before it could annihilate the Glory system. It arrived in the Tan Ru home system, and I arrived there before the Dreadnought reduced it to a neutron star (although had that happened, it would've left me without any hostile fleets to encounter and potentially destroy later on); when I finally got there, I chose to activate the Chromium Gong I had in my possession after the Dreadnought had destroyed the Tan Ru fleet defending that system. Although the resulting Gong hit rendered that particular device unusable, it also took out the Dreadnought with just one direct hit, and I was able to salvage the equipment stored there with impunity.

Above, from top: A chronology of events that occurred during a recent playthrough of Infinite Space III: Sea Of Stars in which I activated a Limited Vacuum Collapser on two different occasions, affecting two different areas of the map and removing a combined total of 10 star systems (including 4 alien homeworlds) from play.

All told, I'd overwritten 10 of the 32 star systems I visited during this playthrough (four with the first LVC and a further six with the second), leaving only 22 systems intact. And even though one of those lost systems was the Klakar home system, I felt it was a small price to pay after considering the fact that, in addition to the malevolent and thoroughly evil Urluquai being purged, the system in which I found the first Limited Vacuum Collapser was also removed from the map, taking the possibility of the Kawangi duplication bug with it. 

Also, given that the Garthans and Tchorak had exhibited hostility towards my fleet, my initial use of a Limited Vacuum Collapser to overwrite their respective home systems was also a worthwhile preventative measure. Finally, there is one more interesting fact: in addition to obliterating large amounts of the nebulas that had been present at the start of the game, the dual vacuum collapses would've removed the home systems of every hostile faction had the Klakar and Tan Ru home systems swapped places with each other, thus leaving me without a hostile flotilla to attack for the rest of the game.

As it was, however, the Klakar lost their original home system, although even after the dual vacuum collapses ravaged the sector, it would not be unreasonable to assume that they would've establish a new home elsewhere in one of the surviving systems with similar habitability (at the very least). But at least I was able to permanently safeguard Sector Prime (or what was left of it) from further Yellow Kawangi, Urluquai, or Garthan invasions.

That's the problem with intergalactic warfare in the 46th century AD: sometimes you have to make difficult decisions to avoid a costly defeat. And on this occasion, there was no third option in which the Klakar home system was saved while the Urluquai were wiped off the map. Even so, by the end of the game, I'd earned enough money to upgrade my four capital ships (two Terran frigates, a Garthan frigate, and a Calatian cruiser) and two fighters (a Terran fighter and a Garthan fighter) to my heart's content. So my strategy of causing two localized vacuum collapses at different points in the game, affecting two different parts of the map, turned out very well in the end, but you should be aware that you may not always be as fortunate as I was if you find yourself in a similar situation.

Confessions of an Automationeer, Part 206: Two Approaches to Restomodding

Confessions of an Automationeer, Part 206: Two Approaches to Restomodding

In the Automationverse, there are two ways to restomod a car: either by cloning the base model and engine family (and by extension, their respective trim and variant) simultaneously, or by merely cloning the trim of the original base model. In general, the donor car should be at least 20-30 years old compared to the restomodded trim. So here's a brief rundown of both methods, and how they should be compared.

Above: By clicking on the Clone All button (second row, first from right) in the Car Designer after selecting a specific trim, and then setting the new car's base model year 20-30 years further forward, you can create a remanufactured restomod from your donor car.

The first (and most comprehensive) approach is called remanufacturing, in which you clone the entire car's base model and engine family, thereby creating a new car trim and engine variant in the process - there's a dedicated button for it in the car designer (second row, first from the right). Using the donor car for ARM34 (which I'd hosted) as an example, I remanufactured it with new materials for the chassis and engine, enlarging the latter in the process while also fitting a more extrovert aero kit (along with modernized light clusters) to suit the updated aesthetic. Inside, the interior was upgraded with lighter, higher-quality materials and a modern infotainment system, while uprated brakes, suspension, and tires help it harness its increased output more easily.

Above: The original '92 Morrison Kestrel (left) compared to its remanufactured restomodded version, the Kestrel RM (right), created by clicking on the Clone All button in the car designer and setting the car model/engine variant years 20-30 years later than those of the donor car. In-game, the two are different base models from different model years.

Refurbishment is another option, but compared to remanufacturing, it's not quite as extreme. You simply clone a trim of the donor car, then set that trim's year to 20-30 years after the model year. You do, however, have the option of replacing the original engine with a new one whose family year matches that of the new trim year.

Above: A sneak preview of a refurbished (rather than remanufactured) restomod which I am planning to submit for a different forum challenge. Both trims share the same base model year and use the same body/chassis materials, suspension types, and engine placement. However, the restomod utilizes a completely new engine instead of a new trim of the original engine. Please note that neither the restomod nor the donor car are 100% visually representative of the finished product.

The resulting restomod retains the same chassis materials, engine placement, and suspension types as the base model, but can still be retrofitted with more advanced technology (infotainment, suspension components, safety equipment, driving aids, etc.) much like a fully remanufactured restomod.

Above: Another way to create a restomod is to clone the selected trim, set the new trim's year 20-30 years further forward, and install more advanced technology (including a new engine whose family year matches the new trim year) as you see fit.

In short, both restomodding methods have their merits; while refurbishment preserves and retains the chassis and bodywork configuration of the donor car (thus maintaining some semblance of originality), remanufacturing, though more expensive, allows for free reign as to which body/chassis materials, engine placement/orientation, and suspension types can be used for the restomod. But whatever approach you pick, no expense should be spared, and to that end, a heavy investment in positive quality points across various areas is generally recommended.

Confessions of an Automationeer, Part 205: Amadeus' Antithesis

Confessions of an Automationeer, Part 205: Amadeus' Antithesis

In my previous post in this series, I described how, and why, the 1990 WM Amadeus' size and weight forced rival manufacturers to make their hypercar competitors lighter and smaller, at the expense of creature comforts - but with a greater sense of exclusivity. Now, I'll show you another reason why other manufacturers decided to simplify and lighten their offerings in response: the KMA KS620. This small, light, fiberglass-bodied sports coupe was mid-engined, just like the Amadeus, but weighed a little over half as much, and had a 200-horsepower 2.0-liter naturally aspirated flat-six mounted longitudinally in the middle, behind the passenger compartment and ahead of the rear wheels.

Above, from top: The 1990 KMA KS620 may have had only one-third as much power as the WM Amadeus that also debuted within the same year, but was far smaller and lighter, thanks to having fewer creature comforts within its fiberglass skin.

With a simple mid-grade cassette tape stereo and no driving aids (not even power steering or anti-lock brakes), this mid-engined pocket rocket was a far more visceral experience compared to the Amadeus (especially since the KS620 also had A-arm suspension front and rear, along with a 6-speed manual gearbox and helical limited-slip differential) - but one that was even less likely to be used as a daily driver. Even so, as a more straightforward tool for slicing up twisting back roads or purpose-built road courses, it was far wieldier than you'd expect for something not equipped with driving aids.

Serving as a smaller companion to the KX12 which I'd described earlier, this build was actually the result of repurposing and revising another challenge entry (which I did by cloning both the base model and engine family). The result was the KS620 - distinguished from its larger sibling by the option of a contrasting black roof (as shown here). However, this car is also the reason the 1995 HPG H2L (itself the subject of another previous post in this series) exists: I've just realized that the H2L is even lighter and smaller (due to its aluminum chassis and smaller four-cylinder engine) compared to the KS620. If HPG's engineers believed that the KS620, for all its virtues, could be improved upon still further, it might have inspired them to surpass it, and the best way to do so was to start work on the H2L.

In short, as a counterpoint to the WM Amadeus, the KS620 is every bit as amazing as its larger, far more expensive counterpart - and the origin of yet another rivalry.