Before we launch off the carrier deck, here’s an important distinction for mild dyslexics like me. The Moza AB9 (which I’m quite familiar with) offers significantly stronger, smoother belt driven force feedback with 12 Nm peak torque. While today’s subject, the AB6 comes in a more affordable, compact bundle. We’re talking the base, a stick, mount but also only half the power at 6 Nm peak torque and a gear driven feel that can feel slightly… notchy.
Not to give my impressions away in the intro, but the AB6 is what you ought to lock-on to if you need a great value entry-level to mid-range flight sim solution. I’ll always loop back to my AB9 as the premium high performance preferred, obviously, but the AB6 will now become the highly capable backup my eldest will probably earn his sim wings with.
Or, hey, maybe I’ll repurpose it into a force feedback manual gearshifter for my racing rig. This is quite possible with a small extra purchase.
Speaking of buying things, let’s get the first hurdle out of the way: price of admission. I did say the AB6 setup was entry level, but in the sim peripherals world, that can still mean steeper than a kamikaze nose dive. Click here to skip that eye-watering window shop if you’d like to.
Moza Flight Test Gear
All About That Base
The AB6 Base is Moza very deliberately trimming the fat without cutting the nerve. This is a compact force feedback unit that still wants to grab you by the wrist and remind you that flying is a physical challenge, not just an elaborate finger ballet on a keyboard or controller.
At 6 Nm peak torque, it is exactly half the muscle of the AB9, but that number undersells how assertive it feels in practice. Once bolted down properly, and yes, bolting it down is non negotiable (do not go by my clutter-avoiding glamour photos), the AB6 communicates aircraft behaviour with quiet confidence. Control surface loading, trim changes, turbulence, buffet, runway rumble and high speed compression all come through clearly, especially when you are flinging a fully fuelled F18E Super Hornet around like you’re about to go buzz the nearest Nimitz-class tower.
The gear driven mechanism introduces a slight mechanical texture to movement. You feel the teeth working, particularly around centre, and while some will describe this as notchy (and I do agree), I would argue it also feels sincere. There is a sense of machinery at play. You are not gliding on silk, you are wrangling a flying contraption that is sometimes bucking back, and in a modern jet context that feels quite satisfying.
