I wonder how many Singers they even have that are good at and ready for combat. Singers specialise in different fields after all. If we make targetting the comms arrays a standard tactic, they might soon start to run out or have to pull 'noncombat' singers that spent the last century playing simcity and dating simulators with harmony citizens.
Could well be. I think not-quite-enough-Singers is one of their limiting factors.
On targeting-
Given targeting the comms arrays means not targeting the engines/nacelles/weapons, there are of course tradeoffs.
In this case, probably overall good ones, as if a Singer decides it's a losing fight and wants to escape- like here- they'd need to bring the whole ship and crew with them, rather than abandoning ship (and presumably scuttling/detonating the core?) and leaving the crew to their deaths.
One thing, which is a mixed drawback/advantage, is that Singer-directed ships will start trying to escape from a losing battle a lot earlier.
This is "good" in that it means we don't take as much damage to our own forces and can force the enemy into retreat more quickly, often letting us achieve objectives other than "blow up the ships" more reliably. It's also "good" in that it means we're less likely to suffer severe damage or losses to our own ships from Harmony vessels that fight fiercely to the death.
It's "bad" in that it means we are more likely to be deprived of opportunities to destroy or incapacitate enemy ships, because enemy ships keep skedaddling to fight another day before they hit shield failure and start taking heavy hull damage.
Depending on who outnumbers who and what our objectives are, this can be a mixed bag.
Yeah, that's why I specified "Singer-directed" ships in my last post.
On the other hand, not having Singers present on the ships to make mental adjustments, in a war that is essentially being fought by the Federation with the goal of liberating all Harmony citizens from the Singers, presents its own problems for the Singers.
Since our goal is to end Singer tyranny, collectively, not to personally kill the handful of Singers who happen to be aboard Harmony warships at the moment we blow them up, there are some very real ways in which "Singers are forced to abandon Harmony warships for fear of losing their lives" works to our advantage.
This is "good" in that it means we don't take as much damage to our own forces and can force the enemy into retreat more quickly, often letting us achieve objectives other than "blow up the ships" more reliably. It's also "good" in that it means we're less likely to suffer severe damage or losses to our own ships from Harmony vessels that fight fiercely to the death.
I was admittedly thinking of the good of not having to kill hundreds of unwitting dupes fighting to maintain their own slavery, to 'defeat' that ship or win the specific battle.
Strategically/militarily, yes, as you say it's a more complex calculation.
I think that rather than get worked up over possible doctrinal changes or effects it's worth taking a second look at the context in which the Comet started taking potshots at comms relays - namely, that there was a pretty even fight between Starfleet/HoH forces and Starfleet was guaranteed to have encounter-winning reinforcements coming both before any HoH reinforcements and likely soon.
Yeah, it's good to know that Singer's view their comms relays as their primary escape route rather than their warp drive, but situations where preventing opponents from escaping is a higher priority than actually defeating them are more on the uncommon side than not. For the most part, Singer's would probably be fine and dandy with Federation forces passing up mobility/firepower damage in favor of blasting comms relays, since in circumstances where the HoH has (or thinks they have) force parity that will more often than not lead to Singer ships gaining tactical advantages.
I think that rather than get worked up over possible doctrinal changes or effects it's worth taking a second look at the context in which the Comet started taking potshots at comms relays - namely, that there was a pretty even fight between Starfleet/HoH forces and Starfleet was guaranteed to have encounter-winning reinforcements coming both before any HoH reinforcements and likely soon.
Yeah, it's good to know that Singer's view their comms relays as their primary escape route rather than their warp drive, but situations where preventing opponents from escaping is a higher priority than actually defeating them are more on the uncommon side than not. For the most part, Singer's would probably be fine and dandy with Federation forces passing up mobility/firepower damage in favor of blasting comms relays, since in circumstances where the HoH has (or thinks they have) force parity that will more often than not lead to Singer ships gaining tactical advantages.
I think the main reason this is relevant is something you're slightly missing in your analysis- that Singers are VERY casualty-averse, more so than the captains and crews of conventional fleets. Losing a Singer in combat, especially against 'lesser beings' or nonsentient destructive forces, seems to horrify the Singers collectively.
Thus, significantly increasing their risk of dying in a fleet action is likely to affect the calculus of Singer actions... in a war that is being fought primarily to force the Singers into certain courses of action. Furthermore, Singer direction seems to play an important role in their naval operations, so forcing Singers to flee battle or abandon the practice of possessing warships directly would have knock-on effects for Harmony fleet performance.
The only thing we know that ever made the Singers back down was the time the ISC killed one of them. Puncturing their bubble of immortality has incredibly outsized effects on their thinking.
Changelog: due to remembering everything Tallael did, she has been replaced in the conversation with Krobik by Singer Keppan. Tallael will instead replace vas Rayes as the Singer Enterprise will encounter on Unwerta.
The only thing we know that ever made the Singers back down was the time the ISC killed one of them. Puncturing their bubble of immortality has incredibly outsized effects on their thinking.
The only thing we know that ever made the Singers back down was the time the ISC killed one of them. Puncturing their bubble of immortality has incredibly outsized effects on their thinking.
I think the main reason this is relevant is something you're slightly missing in your analysis- that Singers are VERY casualty-averse, more so than the captains and crews of conventional fleets. Losing a Singer in combat, especially against 'lesser beings' or nonsentient destructive forces, seems to horrify the Singers collectively.
Thus, significantly increasing their risk of dying in a fleet action is likely to affect the calculus of Singer actions... in a war that is being fought primarily to force the Singers into certain courses of action. Furthermore, Singer direction seems to play an important role in their naval operations, so forcing Singers to flee battle or abandon the practice of possessing warships directly would have knock-on effects for Harmony fleet performance.
See, this is my point - a fleetwide "go for the comms first" policy doesn't actually significantly increase the chance of a Singer dying in a fleet action, because the Harmony is a peer power whose fleets can take advantage of Starfleet faffing about trashing comms by taking a couple dozen free shots at targets that would actually make a difference in the fight - and that's going to make just as big a difference if not more as having Singers be more likely to chicken out of frontline presence.
Raising the stakes only helps if you already have a winning hand.
See, this is my point - a fleetwide "go for the comms first" policy doesn't actually significantly increase the chance of a Singer dying in a fleet action, because the Harmony is a peer power whose fleets can take advantage of Starfleet faffing about trashing comms by taking a couple dozen free shots at targets that would actually make a difference in the fight - and that's going to make just as big a difference if not more as having Singers be more likely to chicken out of frontline presence.
Raising the stakes only helps if you already have a winning hand.
See, this is my point - a fleetwide "go for the comms first" policy doesn't actually significantly increase the chance of a Singer dying in a fleet action, because the Harmony is a peer power whose fleets can take advantage of Starfleet faffing about trashing comms by taking a couple dozen free shots at targets that would actually make a difference in the fight - and that's going to make just as big a difference if not more as having Singers be more likely to chicken out of frontline presence.
It is my belief that the magnitude of Singer cowardice will make a greater difference than the effect of Starfleet captains situationally, when they see fit, not mindlessly targeting communications arrays.
Speaking of shield penetration, I'm curious about what was shield hardening supposed to be. Was it supposed to be a straight reduction of an enemy's shield penetration chance? (Ex. If you have 1% shield hardening it will reduce an enemy attack with 5% shield penetration down to 4%.) Or was it supposed to do something different?
The Story of the Felicity Xanathos is the story of the Orion Union
By Iminathi Dlamini
Word count: 8633
I've always had a fascination with starships. My mother was the A Berth superintendent at San Francisco Fleet Yards, and I grew up alongside USS Excelsior as she took shape in orbit. While my career would take me away from my roots and towards political and social writing, starships always seemed to follow me. As a young woman I moved to Mars and cut my teeth on local reporting as Utopia Planitia expanded at a breakneck pace. While I worked for the Martian Chronicle and reported across the quadrant on politics I also made contacts in the aerospace sector.
My fascination with the scrappy Orion Union grew as well, first formed around the same time I started paying attention to galactic affairs. When the Martian Chronicle needed an Orion correspondent, I moved to Alukk and started reporting during the Syndicate Campaign.
During this time I was given the chance to combine my two passions with a tour of the Union Navy's golden Son, the OUS Felicity Xanathos. Known for most of its existence under the project designation F-X, it was a ship of contrasts. It was an Explorer that didn't explore, it was a battleship that hardly went to battle, and it was simultaneously known as the most beautiful ship in the quadrant and a dingy deathtrap. I'd hoped to see the real Felicity Xanathos, examine its most beautiful heights and darkest depths, the way I did for my political reporting.
I walked away from my tour disappointed. It was as guided as any on Cardassia.
I left the Union behind, but between my political reporting, I was lucky enough to visit other vessels. I was the first foreign correspondent on the new Tar'chak, and I saw Manta Maria and Rebirth as they prepared for combat. Toured the breathtaking example of kludge engineering that was the Behemoth of the Morshadd Commune. But the Xanathos stuck with me. I had a feeling I had only scratched the surface.
New governments have brought new opportunities. The current President, Kol Oyana, reached out and offered select members of the Federation press an opportunity: an all-access tour guided by senior members of the ship's crew. Personally, I think K. Oyana wants us to see the ugly side of the Union Navy's golden son because it offends him on a professional level. As a supply chain specialist in his original career, he no doubt finds the snarl of parts orders and maintenance fees deeply frustrating.
-
To understand the Xanathos and his history is to understand the Union itself. In the early 2200's, the anarchic Orion Sphere appeared to be thriving. The planet-states of the Sphere had grown wealthy in the previous centuries, selling goods, services, and weapons to the warring powers around them. The technology of the old Empire had not been completely lost, and important figures from far and wide visited for medical treatments and gene therapy. The corporate interests of the Sphere paid openly for mercenaries to patrol their space, and only slightly less openly offered the Syndicate refuge. This relationship became symbiotic, the Syndicate providing cover for less savory actions, and a source of income as they paid corporations for various services.
The gang wars fought by the Syndicate against competitors and its own myriad internecine conflicts also provided a boon. "The Syndicate's wars have supported job creation and wealth generation among a variety of small businesses," said Corporate Spokesman and CEO of Tatesa Aeronautics Vera Massin during a keynote speech in 2201, "and we expect as the Syndicate contracts out their business needs, all economic indicators will rise." The small businesses in question were almost entirely mercenary units hired by the Syndicate and other underworld organizations to increase their muscle. No thoughts were spared for the street-level Orions caught in the crossfire.
But as the century entered its second half, things were becoming more and more tenuous for the corporate alliance. The nations of Andor, Tellar, Vulcan and Earth had formed the Federation in 2161. Was what expected to be a short-lived alliance would soon celebrate its 100th anniversary.
Their separate economies once relied on the Orion Sphere for many high-technology and consumer goods, but as they had grown closer, they were trading more with each other, and other like-minded neighbours, than the Orions. Worse still, the Federation provided a symbol of hope for many of the underclass of the Sphere, and attracted the sympathies of many intellectuals. These factors led to the revolution on Srinpal in 2260, an early turning point in corporate dominance in the Orion sphere.
The mercenaries of the Sphere had been able to crush the citizen's militias of previous insurrections, but found themselves stymied by the dedicated resistance on Srinpal, bolstered by several defector mercenary units. The Federation's watchful eye prevented the use of harsher measures to bring the population to heel, and their do-gooder agents proved remarkably resistant to Syndicate bribes. Eventually, the corporate interests decided too much blood and (more importantly) treasure had been wasted on Srinpal and abandoned the fight in 2276. The world was renamed Broken Chains, under the new administration of the Free Orion Unions. Unrest continued to rise all across the Sphere, and corporate shareholders increasingly began to lose confidence.
In this environment, the idea for the project that would become the Felicity Xanathos was born. Embor Orbital, one of the largest space conglomerates, approached other corporate leaders with a proposal -- the construction of a large-scale Exploratory Battleship. It would be something to prove to the people of the Union, the galaxy at large, and shareholders that Orion shipbuilding was thriving and the Sphere's libertarian principle of government by corporation could undertake the large projects of powers like the Federation. Embpor's proposal was simple: they would create a vessel more impressive than the Federation's newly-launched Excelsior program, superior in tactical and diplomatic facilities, and ready for a six year trade mission. Most importantly, a project of this size would draw in the business of every major aerospace manufacturer and subcontractor in the Orion sphere, increasing incomes for all.
Then the revolution struck.
-
The revolution was fought in the streets. The space fleets of the corporations mattered little in the conflict, as bombing their own planets would mean losing strength relative to the other planet-states. The protestors flooding Alukk could be tamed by antimatter, to be sure, but that could mean that Celos, or (capital forbid) Broken Chains could become the biggest power in the Sphere. And so the aerospace companies remained aloof throughout the conflict, their facilities mostly safe in space. On the ground, mercenary units like the Ranar's Light Infantry gained an infamous reputation, crushing militant resistance where they could through a combination of superior tactics and disproportionate firepower. But they were plugging tiny holes in a crumbling dam. The tide was swiftly turning, and eventually the corporations acquiesced to the formation of a central government.
The Revolution was won. Its aims fell short of the wildest dreams of the radicals, but a sweeping wave of pan-Orion feeling prompted the Free Orion Unions to join with the Orion Federal Republic to form the Orion Union. The new Union was held together by a series of painful compromises. Chattel slavery was formally banned, but indentured servitude continued. Broken Chains wanted to break the back of corporate power, but the full extent of their vision was considered too grand to implement. The corporations were only barely brought to heel; no one wanted to open up another round of brutal bloodshed between paramilitaries. So the Union was formed, a weak government pulled in many different directions. The corporations expected it to fall within a year. Instead it lasted a decade, gaining more and more power. The corporations eventually realized the tide was against them.
As part of efforts to strengthen their position they turned to Embpor's exploratory battleship proposal. Embpor and the other aerospace companies had retained a positive reputation during the long civil war, partially because they offered good-paying manufacturing jobs, but mostly because they didn't participate. They were eager to show the Union and the neighbouring powers that Orion industry was the best in the quadrant, that it could deliver galaxy-class products, and most importantly, make a small fortune doing it. The aerospace industry of the Union, with Embpor at its head, invested heavily in a lobbying campaign. They focused on Truth and Prosperity as the new ruling party, but also focused significant effort on the Congressional Alliance, smarting from a recent election loss and the position of minority party.
The lobbyists had a pitch for every possible faction and subfaction. To pro-market politicians, they emphasized the prestige of the project, the ability to open up new markets, and the ability to woo their neighbours or bludgeon them into submission. To various hawks and security experts, they noted the weapons could deter and the diplomatic facilities could prevent war in the first place. And to those who wanted to increase the government's power and status, they noted this would be the single largest post-Revolution project yet authorized. It would provide a symbol of unity and pride to all Orions, and prove the fragile government could get things done. They even reached out to the hard anti-capitalist wing of CA, selling the project as a sort of wealth distribution, moving money and resources from Alukk to the workers on Broken Chains who would help build parts for the project.
-
Perhaps the complicated feelings around the approval of the Exploratory Battleship can best be summarized by two major figures that lived through it -- Federation Councillor Maxime Sierre, formerly of the Congressional Alliance, and former Federation Councillor; and former TUP Vice-President of the Orion Union, Eliasyn Yathcha.
"A nasty piece of work," Yathcha tells me. She's talking to me via video chat, and I can see the stark beauty of a snowfield behind her. "A nightmare project when it was being built, and a nightmare project to keep running afterwards. The only positive point I have to offer is that no slaves were directly involved in its construction. Though - and it pains me to say this - that's more thanks to the CA's union and emancipation organizing."
Sierre, who meets me in her office, is of a different opinion. "As a member of the Defense Oversight Committee I was there when Embpor formally brought forward the proposal for what they were calling the F-X program. What emotions we had! To undertake such a project at a time when the galaxy saw us as weak; when the Syndicate bayed; when the corporations claimed they could provide better governance. Here was a chance to prove that Orion could still build something new, even if it was at the hands of corporate interest; and we were eager to take that symbol for the revolution. So we seized it in the halls of power; one final act of revolution, a proof of our supremacy over the so-called 'governance' of money."
"I wanted it gone," Yatcha says, rubbing her forehead, "We were fresh from a fight, we had major political instability, and I did not trust Embpor."
"People had little faith in the Felicity Xanathos," Sierre counters, "Not I. I saw it as an opportunity. Here we had a symbol of Orion unity, at a time when the Union was falling apart; here we had something for people to believe in. It could serve the Union materially, of course, but it could also provide hope, and maybe more importantly, more firepower than anything the Syndicate or remnant corporate armies had."
Sierre pushed hard for the Felicity Xanathos, one of the few times she would cross the aisle and work with members of her opposition party in the next few decades. The vote to fund the Exploratory Battleship was almost unanimous.
-
Once funding was secured, work began immediately. In 2300 Embpor cleared out their two megaton Alukk berth, pushing out a half-completed hospital ship that would be cannibalized for parts. The exterior of the shipyard was covered over, and work began in earnest. All the outside world could see was a swarm of activity around the two access hatches to the shipyards, bringing in a never-ending supply of parts and materials. Warp tugs from Celos and Akola brought large prefabricated sections from the assembly halls of Mekpalli Aerospace and Molhane Industrial, and even the Redspire Combine on Broken Chains. It was held up as ostensible proof of the superiority of the decentralized shipbuilding created by the corporations of the Sphere.
Of course, what the exterior activity didn't show was the supply issues, the contractor graft, and the literal grafting issues with the prefabricated sections. But in spite of it all, the project continued unabated. The alleged capability of its diplomatic facilities prompted Nelihiar Savings and Loans, the largest financial group in the Sphere, to commission Molhane Aerospace and Onaya Launch Alliance to design and construct what would eventually become the 'Savings and Loans' cruiser, designed to secure lucrative contracts by wining and dining local dignitaries. It no doubt speaks to the difficulty of the Exploratory Battleship project that the first Nelihiar Savings and Loans Cruisers were launched before it was complete.
The Exploratory Battleship had caught the public's imagination. Orion nationalism had been gaining strength, and the Exploratory Battleship became part of it. From the lowliest duranium miner, to the People's Hall on Broken Chains, to the glitzy heights of office towers, the Exploratory Battleship became a symbol, something more than a difficult shipbuild. It promised an era where the Orions weren't criminals and confined to their tiny Sphere -- now they would have something to match the Federation, the Klingons, and the Romulans, a Battleship and an Explorer in one.
The working classes looked up and saw a symbol for a new era, the promised fruits of corporate cooperation finally appearing under the watchful eye of a reborn government. On it were weapons that some hoped, naively, would bring an end to the Syndicate and pirate menace. The bankers and businessmen saw something else, a project that would seek out new markets and industrial collectives, and boldly privatize where no one had privatized before. But all saw a uniquely Orion project, one that, for better or for worse, had brought the Sphere together in a way not seen since the fall of the Empire.
-
As I approach the Felicity Xanothos in a shuttlepod I quickly understand why it has swayed the hearts of so many cynics before me. It sits beautifully in the sun, the golden skin glinting. The bridge is raised up in a commanding position, its large windows a structural vulnerability, but also conveying the sense that someone is standing behind them, watching over you, dedicated to keeping you safe.
The weapons are visible, the disruptor domes along the spine radiating an impressive, but not overwhelming aura of danger. Overall, its lines are sleek, elegant, linear, aerodynamic, with rounded edges and sweeping nacelle pylons.
My plus one for this tour is Jada Zhranet, an engineer for Hyperelite Technology, and a contact from my time reporting on Alukk. She has reviewed all the specs and diagrams of the Xanathos, but has never had a chance for an in-the-flesh tour.
She starts pointing out features that I, overwhelmed by the beauty of the exterior, have failed to see -- like how there's a large shuttlebay just forward of the midsection, but we're directed to a smaller, 'elite' bay closer to the nose of the ship.
When we step off the shuttle with thirty-odd other people on various tours, there is a lot to take in. The officers and spacers in smart uniforms, the design work of the bay, the awaiting snacks, and two mascots: Union Navy mascot Plush the Trivet delights with soft brown fur and a lolling felt tongue, and ship's mascot Felicikitty, who has large, sparkling eyes and perky bunnylike ears. Both mascots feature disconcertingly detailed biceps and abs stitched into the fabric. They dance around and take photos with the children and some of the more distractible adults. Not Jada, though. She looks past all this, eyes taking in every structural and mechanical detail, squinting occasionally at some random component hidden in the shadows.
The forward parts of the Xanathos are spacious, clean, and well-lit. Corridors are wide, with gleaming white surfaces, padded edges, and polished floors, Orion Navy personnel in impeccable uniforms smile as you walk by. There's even numbers of men and women visible, despite the gender imbalance still present in the Navy.
We're led to the very front of the ship, towards the forward lounge and conference center. Two and a half decks tall, it is rightly considered the crown jewel of the Xanathos. It feels very breezy and open, thanks to the suspended flooring, exposed structural elements, and railed cutouts in the upper level. The upper level features benches to relax and tables to enjoy a meal. The lower level features freely flowing drinks and the option to close one level off and turn it into a nightclub. Both feature spectacular views, the decks ending short of the nose, which incorporates a large window looking out into space.
It's frequently used as a venue for weddings, though in a nod to the Union's egalitarian reforms, only a quarter of the slots are available for purchase; the rest are up for lottery. Despite the headaches this causes wedding planners, most agree the venue is worth it.
Moving towards the back of the ship from the conference center, we come to the forward-most third of the ship, or the foc'scle. The accommodations here (supposedly for members of the crew, but 'generously open' to paying members of the public) put some houses to shame, with the largest - 'platinum executive officer deluxe' - having a footprint of 185 square meters. Even the smallest ones, comparatively modest at 80 square meters, come outfitted with the full suite of entertainment and automatic dining services. If you don't feel like being a recluse and eating perfectly prepared pasta in your pajamas while watching procedural holoprograms, you can visit one of the three fine dining restaurants aboard, often filled with guests mingling with members of the ship's crew. Then you might be able to score a tour of the cavernous, two-level bridge, meet the resplendent captain, and marvel at the scores of professionals alert at their stations.
If you're a professional ship designer like Jada, something might start to bother you.
"Every engineer who's been aboard talks about the space." she says, looking over the official map of the ship supplied to visitors, "We have these huge passageways, diplomatic facilities, science labs and the hospital. They want you to believe this is the entire ship; but that simply isn't possible. You realize there's no way the rest of the ship has this much dead space while still fitting the Sharseca Star Conglomerate Mark Twelve disruptor cannons, the Veran-Baeorr SureShot Model 5-Juno Hypervelocity Torpedo Launchers, the Halliburton Technology Protector Deluxe shield generators; nevermind the Caso-Netta Class-12 Elite Star Plus Model warp core. Oh, and the Orion Union Proprietary Blend, you know, crew. Not with the same use of space."
We continue to work our way towards the back of the ship.
-
As we reach the rear two-third point of the ship we meet the smiling Lieutenant Venna. His uniform is the 'duty standard' of the Orion Navy -- somewhere between the high formality of the dress uniform, but not the grubby commonality of the combat slash work dress. The blue knit of the sweater is pressed and spotless, the pants perfectly creased. There are five multicolored ribbons over his left breast, a visual record of his time in the military.
Venna's older, his hair greying, but still handsome. He talks with us about what to expect. We pass Felicikitty, oversized head decapitated and staring as we pass by, the spacer in the rest of the suit squatting against the wall and taking heavy pulls from a glitterstick. Venna compliments me on some of my previous articles. He knows what's coming isn't pretty, and he's probably buttering me up.
Jada's with me. She's only seen what awaits us in technical diagrams and VR tours. But experiencing it will be an entirely different matter.
Venna leads us to one of the polished and intricate sliding doors common on the Xanathos. This one has a sign that says "AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY" in appropriately authoritative lettering, and it only opens when Venna taps a wrist band to a small console next to the door.
There are doors like this all over the midsection of the Xanathos, with two on the bridge. When they open, they reveal a small alcove with a narrow metal hatch painted in white. I see activity in this hatch's window. There's the buzz of an electrical release for the door, the whirr of motors. Ozone wafts into the small space. Venna sighs and I hear voices on the other end. The buzz comes again, the motors screaming this time. Nothing happens. I hear someone curse through half a meter of duranium. There's a mechanical clunk as someone on the other side operates the manual release, and it's quickly pushed open, an Orion officer standing in the threshold.
Damp, sweaty air wafts out of the entranceway. Jada and I wrinkle our noses. Venna sniffs but shows no reaction. Standing in the hatchway is an Orion woman in combat dress, grinning from ear to ear. This is Commander Marshana, the executive officer. Her uniform is wrinkled, the dark fabric even darker in places from grease-spots, and it probably contributes to the odor coming from the doorway. There's shiny surfaces on the fabric that show where it's made contact with something hot for extended periods.
"Hey Iminathi," she says. "Want to come aboard the real Felicity?"
-
Inset -- Felicity Xanathos said:
Felicity Xanathos is named for Commander Xanathos, one of the many 'small business job creators' praised by Vera Massin. This is somewhat misleading, as she was the daughter of the famous Jazd Xanathos, owner of Xanathos Holding Company, principal shareholder in (among many others) Xanathos Medical, Xanathos Heavy Industry, Farsight Financial Services (brought to you by Xanathos), Xanathos Chemicals and Particles, Xanathos Minerals, and Xanathos Broadcasting and Streaming Services, Inc. However, Felicity was not content to simply take the reins of her mother's company. She wanted to make her own way in the world, become a self-made woman.
She joined a mercenary group as a junior officer aboard the Moonlight Sword, a combat cruiser and the largest asset operated by Maro Combat Solutions. She was a survivor of a visit to the Moonlight Sword by Xanathos Management Consulting, run by her sister, Keren Xanathos. The incident left a lasting impression. The young Sublieutenant Xanathos saw a swath of experienced personnel laid off, her own work tripled, and more profits sent to the Captain and the C-Suite executives of Maro Combat Solutions. According to her personal logs, she suffered from a form of survivor's guilt. Her sister had shown her the performance review that meant she would have been fired if not for her name.
Felicity requested a small, interest-free loan from her mother and bought a planetoid in the Sprinpal system, hiring on most of the soldiers and spacers fired in the wake of Xanathos Management Consulting and forming Felicity Tailored Security Solutions. Feeling the need for more experience before directly managing the company herself, she continued serving aboard the Moonlight Sword.
By 2250, she was the Senior Manager, or executive officer, of the cruiser. Conditions on Srinpal had only gotten worse, pushed to the breaking point by a fast-moving plague that sickened the population and led to mass deaths. Jazd Xanathos also died during this time and Keren took her place. Felicity saw an opportunity. Keren Xanathos was unpopular with the public, and was now the face of the largest conglomerate on Srinpal.
Felicity staged a mutiny of the Moonlight Sword, placing it under her control. She then sent her Security Solutions to take control of the Xanathos corporate empire. In 2252, she was formally in control. What she did next was shocking: she aligned with the industrial union movement and freed her corporate slaves, fired most of her executive suite, and turned over much of the corporation to smaller worker's cooperatives. This provided a massive influx of support and resources to the nascent Srinpal Revolution. She renamed her vessel the Worker's Sword, and participated in several battles against mercenary fleets. She survived to see the founding of the Free Orion Unions in 2261, and then the Revolutionary Congress in 2271. Unfortunately, she did not live to see the revolution finished. She was killed by a Syndicate assassin in 2279, shortly before the formal signing of the Union Constitution and elections for its first Congress. It is believed that had she been alive, she would have been the first President of the Orion Union.
Jada and I squeeze through the narrow hatchway. Marshana immediately rips off the jacket of her uniform, cutting down to a black tank-top as the hot, sticky atmosphere settles over us. "You're gonna wanna do the same," she says. Jada quickly peels off her top to reveal a similar tank top, then also zips off the legs of her pants, converting them into shorts. Marshana nods in approval.
After the heat and the smells of the damp atmosphere, the next thing you notice is the crushing claustrophobia. The passageway we find ourselves in is barely large enough for one person to squeeze through, and there is traffic going both ways, a continuous crush of bodies. Larger passageways are barely better. Half of the already-dim LED lights are off. Every surface is covered in some sort of piping or machinery, glistening with moisture. Peering into a crew cabin reveals narrow racks the size of coffins, stacked four high in the misty gloom. The crew 'hot bunks' in these, which means they swap sleeping spots with someone coming on shift. Near an air recirculation grill, three spacers are smoking glittersticks. I look at Marshana, and she simply walks over, chats for a moment, and procures one for herself.
"It's actually good," she says, "If the oxygen levels get low, the glittersticks are more reliable than the sensors."
There is no personal space in the real Felicity Xanathos. I idly think this would be the perfect environment for Apiata and one appears as if by magic, pushing by me with a tablet in hand. Marshana sees me following her with obvious interest.
"Those ladies are spectacular. We've got about seventy of them aboard, most of 'em from one family that lives on Alukk. The workers spend basically most of their employable years onboard. We put them all into one division under a Queen and they do beautiful work. I wish the rest of my girls were as well behaved."
"Is that a joke?" I ask, wiping my brow with my sleeve. "Beehaved."
Marshana makes a motion as if clearing out her ear, "Sorry, Iminathi," she replies in perfect English, "I don't think that one translated." She grins.
Marshana herself is an interesting character. A lifetime veteran of the Union Navy, she joined up in 2310, just before the Syndicate Campaign kicked off. Her first assignment was a relatively luxurious patrol craft. Everything afterwards was considerably more austere, the mighty flagship, choice assignment, the most austere of all. But Marshana thrives in the hardship. She laughs at everything, and has a quick-talking and easygoing nature that would make her the center of any party, particularly with her tales of space misadventure and thrilling heroics. I wonder how bad the morale would be without her.
"It's all about adaptation," she says. We're in a wider passageway now, so she only slightly has to move towards the wall to let a trio of ratings push past, shepherded by a haggard-looking Andorian Lieutenant in the dirtiest Starfleet uniform I've ever seen, on a particularly unfortunate attached posting. The group smiles when they pass by Marshana. My back is pressed against a coolant pipe, and I sneeze.
Marshana continues, "The first week, it sucks. Your nose is clogged, if he [the Xanathos] is in the sun it's too hot, if he's shaded by the planet or you're deep in space without the warp core working hard, it's freezing. Everyone is in everyone's business. If you want to be alone, you better find a nice nook in the middle of these pipes and pray the oxygen sensors are working or we might be hauling you out a corpse. But once you adjust," she waves a hand, carefree, "It's great. It's a challenge. No one else suffers like we do, and we're harder because of it. We're the elite."
I watch a non-commissioned officer, too tall for the low passageway and assigned here by cruel fate, pass by. He sulks away, permanently bent over in a half-slouch.
"I'm not going to deny it's grim, though," she says, "Hell, the first crew assigned to this ship went through Explorer Corps training at San Francisco in preparation for the six year mission, did you know that?"
I did.
"Yeah, then you probably know how that turned out. Great idea, would promote cross-pollination, encourage cooperation with Starfleet, and provide our gals with top-notch training. It was so far away, so a lot of the gals packed up their families too, settled down on Earth for the duration of the training." She's grinning, and an audience is forming as a few junior officers and ratings stop rushing by to listen in. They're crammed up against me. "So at the end of the training, they realize two things. One, they're fully qualified to join Starfleet, and two, they have to come back to this fuckin' place. So guess what a bunch of them did? They signed right up for Starfleet, kept their kids in good schools, and never came back." She lets out a throaty laugh, made gravelly by years of glitterstick use, "Smart bastards. Lost half of the first crew that way!"
-
If you saw the real Felicity Xanothos, stripped of the facade, you would see a blocky ship, three rectangular sections joined together, each slightly larger than the last. More like a postmodern skyscraper laid on its side than sleek and aerodynamic.
All over the surface, you'd see exposed piping and access panels. Reaching up to meet the exterior plating are the sensors that boil up like a fungus, and trashcan barbettes that are the mountings for the disruptor turrets. The main battery is six sets along the middle spine of the ship, three top, three bottom. The bridge is the only rounded and plated section, sitting just aft of the ship's midsection. It hovers in a liminal space between the luxurious forward sections, and the cramped confines of the aft.
Just shy of half of the total ship's volume is in the forward two sections and it is spent extravagantly. Like a college student rushing through an essay the afternoon it's due, the designers of the Embpor hurriedly shoved everything in at the end. It's in those cramped conditions that most of the crew works - only 1/3rd of the thousand personnel aboard work in the forward sections. Some of them are invisible. Scurrying through cramped access spaces are grease-strained spacers with burns across their arms who maintain the disruptor turrets, sensors, plumbing and ventilation. They do so under the deckplates walked on by feted guests.
There have been some modifications over the years to address the imbalance in living and working conditions. The Captain and the XO were originally each given enormous quarters located under the bridge identical to the platinum executive officer deluxe suites. The first Captain of the vessel -- who was originally slated to be the XO, until the assigned commanding officer left to take command of the USS Comfort -- decided this wouldn't do. He had the Captain's quarters converted into smaller quarters for those who would operate in the forward sections, the extra space and relative cleanliness a tradeoff for the elevated standards of dress they'd require. The other was converted half into cabins for the senior officers, and the remaining space turned into a recreational facility.
-
As Marshana takes me and Jada through twists and turns, she tells us about the problems with the Xanathos.
"This thing is built corporate, through and through." She says. Suddenly stopping, she pops open two circuit boxes. She points at a fuse in one. "Look at that," she says, then points at the internals of the other box. "Now look at the ones in there. Notice any difference?" I squint at them, trying to see anything. But they look like fuses. Jana already understands where Marshana is going, though.
"A billion subcontractors," she says, rubbing her forehead, "Let me guess, they abused the intellectual property laws to the fullest." She shakes her head in disgust. Above her hums an electrical box bearing the faded logo of Colhane Industrial.
"Damn right they did," Marshana says, "This tiny fuse here costs a month's salary to replace. If I order it, I cannot use it to replace that fuse over there. That comes from a different subcontractor, and it costs half a month's salary but 'requires,'" she makes dismissive airquotes, "Remote technical assistance to install. Everything in here is made by someone, somewhere, trying to squeeze an extra buck out whenever they can. And that's assuming they're still making the parts. Don't get me started on the stem bolts."
"Couldn't you just get schematics to the parts and fabricate them?" I ask, "A bolt or a fuse can't be…"
Jada and Marshana both laugh. "No," Marshana says, "No that might be undercutting competitive advantage! Proprietary trade secrets, my girl! For the most part that sort of thing has been made illegal, thank the goddess. But there's still a few holdouts who signed deals before the Union got tough on the corporations. We still have to honor them."
Indeed, audits of Union Navy spending show that, no matter how you quantify it, the Xanathos is the most expensive ship to operate in the Federation, period. This includes the four million ton Basilica of Lakhept, which is designed for both functionality and artistic merit.
"That thing is 25% cathedral by mass," comments Marshana, "Incorporates a ton of hand-made parts. By law they polish the brass on that bad boy by hand. And it's still cheaper by lightyears to run him than our beautiful boy Felicity."
The difficulty of acquiring even the most basic components is part of the reason the Xanathos has never deployed for extended periods of time. The situation is so dire that it is rumored the 'emergency resupply' that the USS Continent performed for a stricken Xanathos in 2322 was to circumvent the complicated web of contractors and directly fabricate a stockpile of spare parts under the legal protection of 'emergency operations.' The Captain of the Continent at the time was Mana Berren, one of the original Xanathos crew who never returned from EC training. I spot quite a few parts in the inoffensive grey preferred by the Starfleet Corps of Engineers.
As we turn a corner I notice a sudden shift in the passageways. They become a little wider. The plating starts to look more like the forward section, though most of it is removed to reveal the ugly machinery underneath. Then we step onto a wide corridor, and for a moment I feel as if we've taken a wrong turn and ended up back in the forward section. But I see the walls are a little stained, grittier. I lean forward and notice the grit is under a thick layer of sealant. I point this out to Marshana.
"Yeah," Marshana says, "You see, this is the deluxe tour here." She gestures towards the front of the ship, "That's all nice up there, but when we really want to impress someone we take them to the," here come the airquotes again, "'Real' working spaces, which the interior design boys made to look suitably lived in but not as bad as the real thing. This corridor," and now she points down the other end, "goes right to the warp core."
I look at the passageway we just came from. It's a little better than most of the rear section, but still an ugly mess. Reading my mind, Marshana reaches over and pulls a curtain across the junction. Now a 'deluxe' tour group won't see too much grit.
"There's another reason this particular corridor is so wide," Marshana says as we walk towards the warp core. Her voice is in a conspiratorial whisper, "The rear section is mostly sealed and secured. Hell of a place to fight into. Except here. Y'See, the bosses designing this realized cramming a bunch of women -- sorry, guys and gals; spacers -- into these sorts of conditions and giving them an impregnable fortress might be an issue. So this goes right to the warp core, and if you follow that junction there you get to the antimatter pods and life support. Now right back there," she points backwards to the heavy blast door that separates the forward section of the ship, "Is the Aerocommando barracks. Nice living there. Anyways, we try to rise up, they can rush right down here and secure all the important spaces."
"It's just big enough to accomodate a heavy weapons platform," Jada notes. Marshana's only response is a grim little smile.
By now, we've come to the heart of the Xanathos, her warp core. And I mean the heart, as it is buried directly in the center of the aft section, well protected by the bulk of the ship, almost inaccessible to enemy fire, and also almost inaccessible for anyone trying to keep it running. Marshana notes with almost manic glee that no one even knows if the warp core eject systems work anymore. They have not been tested for years, because the Union Navy doesn't want even a cold test. The factory that built the original warp core was destroyed by the Syndicate, and the owner of the rights to manufacture it is holding out for a court decision alongside 1,256 other major corporations who sued the government after it tried to introduce legislation that would allow it to seize the rights to manufacture such parts under eminent domain. The warp core is one of a kind, irreplaceable.
That being said, the Caso-Netta Class-12 Elite Star Plus Model is a beauty when I see it. It takes up three decks, the middle deck mostly railing for observation, hugging tightly around the sphere of the warp core so visitors can get a sense of the power. The other two levels feature rings of monitoring stations. The core itself is a large brass-colored sphere, etched with intricate design work. Two glowing columns press into the top and bottom, and the plasma conduits that take the results of the reaction are suspended in gilded cages that run into the walls and off to the EPS taps. It is a shame it is impossible to replace, because it is a testament to Orion engineering, and something Starfleet would only surpass with the warp core of the Ambassador.
As I turn to leave, I spot a book on the Chief Engineer's console. It's a testament to the wry spacer sense of humor. "How to Stage a Mutiny." Author: Commander Felicity Xanathos.
-
The crew has a good sense of humor about the role of the Aerocommandos in preventing mutiny, but I sense an edge to the jokes. The senior officers are all suitably diplomatic about their relationship with their infantry sisters, which only makes me more suspicious given how blunt and direct Marshana had been about almost everything else.
Talk to some of the older and vacuum-burnt spacers, or the junior officers, and the story changes.
"They're stuck-up bitches," a senior NCO tells me.
"I mean, I respect what they do," says a spacer, "But they get way better living conditions, and they always act like they got them because they're better than us, not because it's a deliberate social construct designed to ensure their loyalty to now-gone corporate masters. Why yes, I am working on my sociology degree remotely, why do you ask?"
"They're so pretentious," a junior officer tells me, "Always going on about, 'we saved the Union single-handed,' 'oh we actually get to travel across the galaxy so we're the real spacers,' and 'I've actually seen combat, lass,' or even, 'Starfleet uses us so much we're basically on par with them.' Whatever. Soon as I hit my hours I'm sending in a TM [transfer memorandum] and joining actual-factual Starfleet. Real spacers my ass. Make them live aft for a week, and watch those softies shrivel up. They've gotten used to being ferried around on Excelsiors. You know Starfleet's seeing a lot of people balk at serving on those Keplers or Comets because of how comparatively 'hard' living they are? Give me a break. Would love to serve on a ship where I don't have to fill out a leave request to visit the forward lounge. Starfleet's gonna snap me up."
If there's a reason the ladies of the aft section have a particularly dim view of the Aerocommandos' posturing, it might be because the instant they go to warp and leave the safe bubble of a star system, the danger is comparable to a combat mission. The lowest-bidder systems creak and strain constantly, the ship becomes even warmer at high warp, and there's always something rattling or popping. Or worse, silence, which wakes spacers up from uncomfortable dreams and sends them scurrying to find what vital system is staging an impromptu strike. And the compromises and quick fix jobs required to keep the ship running create new hazards that were never anticipated by the ship's designers.
The Sharseca Star Conglomerate disruptor cannons featured many innovations that made them among the most powerful weapons in Federation space. An effective cooling system was not one of them. In combat, the plasma conduits that fed into the prefire chamber became unacceptably hot, forcing either a reduction in rate of fire or running the chance of a rupture. To solve this, designers had hastily modified the crawlspaces around the conduits to allow them to be flooded with the ship's water supplies and circulate it for cooling. During the 2321 STATHEM Exercise with the STO, one of these conduits burst, flooding the compartment below with boiling water. The sensors shorted out, triggering the computer core to seal what it thought was a hull breach. The high-energy systems prevented beamout, and all fourteen trapped spacers were drowned or boiled to death before the blast doors could be cut open. The oldest was twenty-five.
"Yeah," Marshana says, "There's a few times where we pull into dock and it's like… I don't know how the hell we made it back. You know?" She laughs. "But we always do. And then there's actual combat. That's rough. Especially the Orion Ascendant…" she stops, and her eyes go a bit distant. The smile is there, but it's frozen. She takes a puff of the glitterstick. "...yeah. That's a whole different matter."
The Felicity Xanathos was the flagship at the battle of Broken Chains, the first serious engagement against the Orion Ascendant. In a rare reversal of fortune, she had actually arrived on time and intact, unlike the Riala, which had blown out a warp coil and had to limp ingloriously to the battlezone. Onboard she had Tooph Ye Holena, who in one of the most egregious reelection strategies ever seen, had temporarily recommissioned as fleet admiral.
The damage sustained by the Xanathos during the fight was minimal. Shields remained up, and there was minimal bleedthrough. On any other ship, the crew might have felt relatively safe during the battle. Not on the Xanathos, however. It was even darker, the air filled with the smoke and ozone of systems shorting under every impact. The torpedo technicians had to do their work largely by the light of their consoles, loading one of the tubes with a hand crane, trying to keep pace with the autoloaders. Three members of the crew had to spend a month in physical therapy on Celos due to the damage to their knees and ligaments.
The disruptor crews fared little better as they moved half-hunched through the forward passageways. The barely-watertight conduits provided a constant reminder of their threat as they leaked steaming water onto the spacer's shoulders and backs. The decks above, pretty and spacious, would be empty. The designers of the vessels fully sealed them off from operations zones, lest prying corporate spies learn about a proprietary stem bolt, or pesky spacers started tearing up the beautiful interior design in the name of operational efficiency.
Worst of all, in the sweltering conditions, sweating through their clothes, pushing and pulling and lifting uncooperative equipment into place, the crew was on water rations. Much of the drinking water had gone to cooling the guns.
-
The cramped conditions, the mish-mash of parts, errors in fabrication and the general poor quality of lowest bidder technology means that the Xanathos is a disaster to maintain. Accessing a malfunctioning system, of which there are many on a given day, can be as easy as tapping a pipe steaming into a passageway, or as complicated as sending your smallest and bravest Apiata worker into a nest of cables to perform microfracture identification and repair. There are few turbolifts in the rear section, meaning response to issues are slow. The overall remedy for this has been to cram additional spacers aboard, to increase the density of personnel on-hand in vital areas.
The huge complexity of the Xanathos makes it ill-suited for its supposed mission -- the six year mission. Jada estimates there was a narrow window in which the Xanathosmay have been able to pull one off, in 2310. At that time, most of the contractors that produced the parts for the Xanathos were still in business, the government was eager to prove the Orions were major galactic players and were willing to spend the money, and the crew was finally performing at the expected levels. Then the Syndicate campaign came, and the Xanathos was stuck in Alukk orbit and occasional patrol. It has only left this assignment to go in for repairs.
"Even still, it's a long shot that the Xanathos could go six years without a problem," she says, "It has a system failure that would sink a long-range mission every two years. That's in addition to more general failures that would make the trip very hard on the crew, especially given their living conditions." She taps her chin, "Yeah, crew sustainment is a tough one. Though another chance for profit. One of my first jobs at Hyperelite was designing a fast craft that could reach the Xanathos on a mission and swap out large parts of her crew."
The possibility of putting the Xanathos on task forces proved to be a headache for everyone involved in wargaming the logistics. They estimated that for a deployment to Task Force Beyond or even the relatively nearby Liberty, the Xanathos would require major overhaul at a Starfleet yard, even more extensive than the ones the Molhane Patrol Craft had undergone at Okatha. A Starfleet Engineering ship would have to be permanently assigned to the task force with the explicit mission of providing her around the clock care. This was nothing to say of the political cost, which would require the President to issue emergency clearances to the engineering ship to manufacture the parts required, regardless of Orion intellectual property jurisprudence.
Needless to say, the Xanathos was not picked for any task forces. She spends most of her time in Alukk orbit, a symbolic flagship, more a Starbase than a starship.
And yet, in spite of it all, her crew loves her. Many were aboard during the Eternal Empire crisis, and will spin several tales of their role in the fight which are slightly more hair-raising than their tales of shipboard life. They talk about the daily struggles and danger onboard with a certain cavalier fondness. Marshana's earlier comment is echoed by the crew: this is an elite assignment. There is pride in their suffering, and a sort of jealous disdain of the living conditions on Starfleet vessels. I ask a group of young ratings, cramped into their shoebox cabin, if they'd rather work somewhere else.
"Are you kidding?" One of them responds, "This is the best job we've ever had!" The young girls laugh and pose, one flexing an impressive arm covered in grease, five of them crammed onto a single couch, the tallest slouching to avoid a pipe labelled "CRYOGENIC." They're too young to know any better life than this. The older ones, like the officers and the senior ratings, know there's better than toiling in these dark caverns. But they've shaped their entire lives, their identities, around the hardships of this space.
It makes me think of deep sea creatures, floating in the darkness. Perfectly adapted to their environment, hunting in pitch-black. But bring them up to the surface, away from the crushing pressure, and they explode.
-
They might be brought up to the surface faster than they think. Elite assignment or not, the Xanathos' days are numbered. And so too might be the days of an independent Orion Navy. Federalization is coming.
It's hotly debated in Congress, to be sure, and there is no real timeline or obvious move towards it. But many major players in the Union regard it as inevitable. Much of the best talent has already been drained away or is working to export to other powers. The introduction of designs like the Kepler and Envoy have further eroded the niche the Orion Union's vessels played, and are far more reliable than the Union's ships. A new fleet is too expensive for the limited Union government to prototype and put into production.
"Yeah," Marshana tells me, "With the way succession planning is going, I might be the last captain of Felicity. Don't know what happens after that. Lots of demand for Explorer-rated captains around the galaxy. Buddy of mine, previous CO here, thought he'd get out. Had a quiet year, then upped his whole family to Morshadd and now he's conning the Behemoth. Other friend, XO, went to the OSA and now he's helping the Laio with getting their Ray online. Our last orbital warfare officer, Villi, she's looking at snagging a sweet position on one of the new Ambassadors with the STO." She puffs on the glitterstick, "The brain drain is real. Might as well just make the pipeline official."
The establishment of a major shipyard at Loknar Tamesh might be the final nail in the coffin. With the Federation building up ship capability right in the heart of the Union, it may only be a matter of time.
"The government," Jada tells me, "Is more than happy to consider turning everything over to the Federation. They can make their resource and crew contributions directly to the Federation, dust their hands, and let Starfleet and the Federation Council duke it out with the aerospace companies."
In such a situation, the Xanathos herself would disappear too. What could have been a proud legacy starship, upgraded alongside the contemporaneous Excelsior and Sunrise classes for relevancy late into the century, is instead simply too costly to continue.
"We should have gotten the rights to an Excelsior when we had the chance," comments Yathcha.
For now though, the Xanathos continues, glinting in the sunlight, and sustained by people far, far from it.
OUS Felicity Xanothos Vital Statistics said:
Length: 344m / 432m (hull only/with nacelles)
Width: 93m / 125m (hull only/with nacelles)
Height: 40m / 46m (hull only/with nacelles)
11 decks
Mass: 2000kt Complement
Officers and senior NCOs: 316
Enlisted: 847 Guest Capacity
Platinum Elite: 26 rooms, 104 guests recommended 'max coze' load.
Regular: 133 rooms, 266 guests 'max coze' load, 532 'dorm coze' load.
Evacuation Limit: 8,000 Propulsion
Caso-Netta Class-12 Elite Star Plus Model
2x Redspire Combine Type-H Nacelles
Impulse (at launch): 1x Wolmar and Porsecca FX-935 Heavy Impulse Drive
Impulse (After 2313 refit): 4x Union Aerodynamics FX-18 Impulse Drive
Reaction Control System: Dero and Dabanna Rocketry Incorporated Agility++
Navigational Deflector: RHEMM Technology Alliance Integrated Array Information Systems
Primary Computer Core at launch: Berasoft Information Technologies Smart Enhance
Primary Computer Core after 2313 refit: Deleros Intelligonics Dreambar-XI
Secondary Computer Core: Macintosh iCore Business Pro Z
Targeting Computer: Shruug-Batta Corporation GSB-1200 with cryptocurrency mining capability Communications
Mahana Consolidated GirlTalk Sublight Comms Package
Boem-Hamilton S/L Subspace Radio Operating Systems
At Launch: Berasoft Information Technologies SmartLern OS-V
After 2305 dockyard robotics incident: Monadore United Technologies Ultramark DSV
After 2313 refit: Deleros SmartOS Reliability Enhanced Edition
After 2318 refit: FLinux-based Tactical Systems
Disruptors: 20x Sharseca Star Conglomerate Mark Twelve (6x2 and 8x1)
Torpedos: 8x Madurai Music and Manufacturing SymphonicShot Model 5-Juno Torpedo Launchers (six fore two aft)
Shields at launch: 12x Halliburton Technology Protector Deluxe shield generators
Shields after 2318 refit: 6x Union Graviton Workshop GV-4 [licence built SCE Mark-4-SH shield generators]
Tactical Sensors: 4x Empbor Tracker Fire Control Science and Medical
At Launch: 40x Lornar Systems SN-PY9 Distributed Network Sensor Pallets
After 2313 refit: 8x Qella-Alab-Mevaris Solutions STARSeeker Sensor Pallet
TerMed Insurance Hospital Complex (sponsored by Always Light Glittersticks) - 250 beds, 25 intensive care, surgical suite Transport and Utility
Primary Tractor Beams: 4x Johdee 6155H Gold Star Heavy
Flight Deck Tractor Beams: 4x Majh and Lika 2100 Series
Shuttlecraft: 39 in three bays (main, Elite A, Elite B)
-4 runabouts (15m-25m class)
-10 medium shuttlecraft
-5 shuttlepods
-15 workpods
-5 executive skiffs
Transporters: four pattern buffers for six personnel pads, four cargo pads, six emergency (send only)
-Guulshar AllOrion Solutions sensor net
-1x Borosooma Matter Reclamation Solutions Buffer and Transport System - Transporter rooms C, D, F
-2x Mekpalli Reconstitution-Class IV Buffers - Transporter Rooms Elite A, Elite B
-1x Yata-Volan AlwaysRight SureCombine Safety Plus Buffer - Transporter Room E [closed since 2315]
-4x Xanathos Industrial Union AB+ cargo transporters
-6x Volraba Solutions OrionoidBasic Economy Rematerializer emergency transporters
Transport limit of 500 persons per hour (400 within Federation standard safety limits)
Once again, posting this for @Iron Wolf , who deserves full credit for it. Impossible Enterprise III is coming along, as is the next installment for Comet Tales, but I figured y'all could use some #content while we finish writing.
They might be brought up to the surface faster than they think. Elite assignment or not, the Xanathos' days are numbered. And so too might be the days of an independent Orion Navy. Federalization is coming.
Well, cheers to the Orion Union Navy! While they aren't the most accomplished, honorable, competent, well equipped, or noteworthy of Federation member fleets, they are still comrades in arms! In both peace and war, may there always be more of the former!
Look, I know it's not happening now, but I love the song to much to not post it like it was when Core 4+Betazed Federalized
if he [the Xanathos] is in the sun it's too hot, if he's shaded by the planet or you're deep in space without the warp core working hard, it's freezing
Interesting to see how much tension remains between the two groups, including what seems to be some pretty strong class-infused tension. The design was done before the revolution, of course, but still interesting to see how much remains.
The high-energy systems prevented beamout, and all fourteen trapped spacers were drowned or boiled to death before the blast doors could be cut open. The oldest was twenty-five.
An interesting look into the horrifying disaster that is the Orion Union Navy! It's almost too bad to see them talking about federalization, because if they federalize, who will be left to display massive incompetence? Even the Caitians can't measure up to boiling your spacers alive because you screwed up the cooling systems on your multi-megaton starship.
