Few things are as rare as a chatty Klingon warrior.

Ben Moore -- that's "Toq Thor Amra" to fellow Klingons and the Star Trek literate -- is decked out in full alien regalia, including prosthetic forehead and leather vest. Surprisingly inconspicuous on the third floor of the Midwest Express Center, Moore sits casually behind a table at the Klingon Jail 'n' Bail, a service that, for a nominal donation to a local charity, will "arrest" a convention goer of your choice for a brief time before letting them go (usually after making them sing).

"I went to (a Star Trek movie opening) and saw these guys dressed as Klingons, and I just said, 'Hey, how can I get into that?' And it wasn't long after that that I joined a Klingon ship..."

Among the few places a Klingon can blend in seamlessly, last weekend's Gen Con Game Fair brought 20,000 visitors to Milwaukee. Attendees had their pick of board games, card games, role-playing games, war games, video games and every conceivable hybrid thereof.

A longtime staple of Milwaukee's downtown summer, Gen Con assured that elves and Jedi Knights were a common sight on Kilbourn Ave. for at least four days out of the year. After 35 years in Wisconsin -- 17 of those in Milwaukee -- Gen Con will pack its bags and head to Indianapolis in 2003.

Peter Adkison is the owner and CEO of Gen Con LLC. Adkison, a gaming industry veteran, purchased the convention from his former company Wizards of the Coast, makers of "Magic: The Gathering."

For Adkison, the decision to move the convention to another city came down to one consideration: "It's been a great 35 years in Wisconsin--since 1985 in Milwaukee -- and the city's been great to work with, the hotels, the convention centers, all great -- it's just a matter of space."

Space has always been a Gen Con problem. From its earliest days in a rented hall in Lake Geneva -- the source of the name--the convention expanded to the University of Wisconsin-Parkside campus before making the move to Milwaukee's MECCA convention center and eventually the Midwest Express Center.

With various events, including seminars, game sessions, lectures, an auction and an art show stuffed into the MEC, the U.S. Cellular Arena and the adjacent Hilton and Hyatt hotels, Gen Con requires a lot of space (a promotional piece for the Indiana move, printed in the convention program, reads, "We're no longer the one convention that strains the city's system to the breaking point").

With Indianapolis' 1.9 million-sq.-ft. facility and six attaching hotels, a return to Milwaukee seems unlikely. "(It would take) another 100,000 square feet and two hotels like the Hilton," says Adkison. It's hard not to see Adkison's point: By Friday afternoon the escalators, packed with attendees, were routinely breaking down. Games and demonstrations were filled up often and early, while a large crowd was turned away from Saturday's high-profile costume contest at the Hyatt due to fire codes.

With a return to Milwaukee seemingly out of the question, there is an issue of sentimentality. Founded by the Lake Geneva-based creators of the Dungeons & Dragons game, Gen Con was summarily sold to TSR, which was acquired by Seattle-based Wizards of the Coast in 1997.

Though thoroughly saturated with southeastern Wisconsin history, reaction to the convention's leaving is mixed. Says Klingon Ben Moore, a convention circuit veteran attending his first Gen Con, "I have no reaction... absolutely none. It's my first time here, and I have no emotional ties to the city."

Even chatty Klingon warriors have few attachments.

Others are less ambivalent about the move. Brian Chase, roaming the con dressed as a mad scientist, is part of a role-playing group that travels from convention to convention throughout the year.

"I've been coming here for fifteen years, and I'll miss seeing it every year. It's a nice, clean city and it was always fun to walk around downtown."

Mason Booker, an aspiring filmmaker putting together a documentary about Gen Con's last days, was one of several film crews on the premises.

"It really disturbs me," says Booker, a Washington, D.C.-based Marquette graduate. "I went to school here specifically to go to Gen Con. With it leaving, it's like it lessens the gaming culture. I'm trying to capture that moment, because I have a vague fear that the move will turn it into a different kind of convention."

Adkison has no such fears. "No regrets. This is what the situation is and we're just going to go ahead and have fun in Indianapolis."

Sunday afternoon, when 4 o'clock rolled around, the exhibit hall closed and the usual announcement that "This concludes the 35th Annual Gen Con Game Fair..." came on to large cheers from the floor; the announcement of next year's dates in Indianapolis was met with considerably less and scattershot applause.

With its final day behind it, Gen Con quietly left Milwaukee.