Greetings. This file should give you a better idea of what the ship looks like. If you have it, the "Albedo ship sourcebook" will help you see it with more ease. I do not like certain details, so I reworked them. In some cases, like ducts, it's not a good idea for me to follow sourcebook rules (no ducts) as it is such a central point for the life of some poor Tylda-tyranized players :) However, I did change ducts for crawlways, which makes good sense. If you perceive errors, I want to know about them. This file supersedes contradicting information dating from before the time you received this file. For those of you who have forgotten, Ilkily Traxx is the ship's engineer. Some data for those of you that do not have the sourcebook. Might be a good idea to read it anyway, even if you have the book. Albedo jump-capable ships come in two flavors: the large jump- capable aeros, able to land on planetary surfaces, and the true spaceships. I will not cover jump-capable aeros in this file. True spaceships come in standardized sizes: 24, 32, 40, 48, 60 and 80 meters diameter hulls, measured from the inside of the pressure hull. Larger ships exist, but at more than 80 meters diameters, there are few attempts at standardization. Nearly every deck on a ship is interchangeable: you are at port, you need a cargo deck, and one is available in the right diameter size, you only have to remove a deck and replace it with the cargo deck. Modularity. This allows a high degree of versatility. Unfortunately, since the war, there are few places where you can find readily available decks. Often, parts of the decking arrangement is modular, allowing the quick modification of a deck. You need a deck with 1/3 cargo room, 1/3 rec area and 1/3 living space? Relatively easy if the decking parts are available. As a rule of thumb, the larger the diameter, the "fatter" the ship will look. A spaceship is cylindrical, with rounded ends. The propelling reactors are sited at about two thirds of the ship's length, making for a large "skirt". Hydrogen fuel is stored in fore and aft compartments, and take up, in the Kolokyne's case, nearly half the total length of the ship. The mass of the fuel helps protect the ship against a frontal hit with debris. All ships have point-defense weaponry: at high speeds, it is sometimes impossible to avoid debris and those must be destroyed or broken to clear a path. Warships, however, have a large point-defense suite complete with an excellent electronic suite and fire-control systems. Few ships besides warships have ACVs. ACVs are rare and, in prewar times, they were largely unnecessary. Now, there are few Captains who would not commit murder to get one or three. ACVs can be used to intercept enemy vessels, but can also intercept incoming ACVs if it is prewar-built. Prewar ACVs are complex machines full of impossible to get electro- nics. Those ACVs get a better price on the market when sold as parts. The only source of ACVs now, produced at the rate of two or three a month, is Ekosiak. Those ACVs are made with inferior electronics and cannot depend on a direct hit to intercept a ship. Instead, a proximity fuse will fragment the device into large chunks, two or three of which should be in the path of the enemy ship. Warships also have more armor and better damage-control systems, as well as a generally better-trained crew. Usually, warships cruise at higher speeds than merchants. In the Kolokyne's case, burning large amounts of fuel must be weighed against the fast delivery of urgent cargo. As a result, the Kolokyne often trusts at maximum safe wartime acceleration. In the postwar era, parts are hard to come by. Some parts can be made easily, others scavenged. Sometimes, a world makes something that can do. Often, the temporary becomes permanent. Accidents are prone to happen, even if EDF tries hard not to use substandard parts. The situation in the merchant fleet is worse. In a tightening downward spiral, substandard parts cause wear on "healthy" equipment that has to be replaced with often inadequate parts. As the situation worsens, more equipment fails or is damaged. On the Kolokyne, equipped with a decent machine shop and with someone like Ilkily (and Hurunna who pitches in when he has time), the situation is good, but it is an everyday uphill battle. Tylda, Ilkily and the other crewmembers have a low tolerance for people who are careless with equipment or act in ways that could lead to untimely wear. That attitude can be found on nearly every ship. I won't explain the mechanics of jump. A ship has MHD coils along its hull. Those coils, when largely intact, allow the ship to jump. The ship retains the speed it had before the jump. A ship has to get away from large masses to jump safely. Stars and planets can smear the ship across light years if the jumping ship is too close to them. As with many things, there's a minimal safe distance, and a wartime minimal safe distance... The Kolokyne regularly pushes the envelope in its haste, though it is not always the case. In theory, ships are very hard to intercept as they jump in a system. In practice, you can make educated guesses if you have enough information. A ship jumping from system to system jumps in a straight line, so the vector of approach from a given system is known. As ship captains will try to cut their transit time, they will usually try to get as close as safely possible. Piracy is a plague that has become "common". The success rate, however, is low: you need to have a good idea of where the ship will arrive, and what its speed and vector will be. Just smashing the ship with ACVs will not work as you will expend valuable weapons without return. Boarding is your main option. To do that, you have to stop the ship from maneuvering, and disable its weaponry without rendering the ship and its cargo irrecoverable. You are into piracy for a profit, after all. The crew, obviously, will resist. Until a few years ago, pirates did not bother with letting the crew live. When the crew caught on that they would not survive a defeat, they started blowing up their own ships. Frustrating, especially when you were part of the boarding party. The crew can also put on fierce resistance, and they have quite a few advantages that make boarding a costy undertaking. Now, the pirates have wised up. They will intercept, fire several shots, and propose a deal. The crew stays alive and keeps the ship, if they give the pirates a goodly part of their cargo. An offer that is rarely refused, as the pirates have demonstrated their willingness to vaporize ships that are unreasonable. Pirates often use that kind of argument against unprotected colonies or stations. As a result, there is a huge demand for any ACV. Most systems have homemade interceptors, pityful attempts at warships. They are often "fast" liners armed with a few beam weapons and mass drivers, unarmored, and cannot jump, being in-system ships. On the other hand, most ships are now armed, even if poorly so, and they sometimes put on a fight. There's also a rumor that the EDF has two or three Q-ships in operation, and that they are aching to get approached by the unwary pirate. The Kolokyne is a 80m diameter fast transport. Designed so that it could accompany an invasion fleet without slowing it down, it is lightly armored, the equivalent of the armor a frigate has. It's peak acceleration, with nearly no cargo, is 1.6G. With a normal cargo and fuel load, it's cruising acceleration is between 1.0 and 1.3G. The ship's original ACV armament was light for a warship of its size: the magazines could hold one dozen ACVs, which were meant to give it some offensive capacity for the few times it would operate out of a fleet. During the war, it's capacity was tripled, according to the provisions made when it was built, to give it more teeth. While the ship can hold 36 ACVs, it has only 19 currently aboard, one of which is inoperative as it is canni- balized for spares. As the ship's mission was to transport a high number of soldiers and military equipment, the point-defense armament of the ship is impressive, rivaling that of some older cruisers. Normally, the ship is a fleet vessel, not meant to operate without screening ships. In the current era, the Kolokyne must be its own fleet. Indeed, during the war, when there where more ships, the vessel was one of the escort ship of the convoy. As the war tapered off and the Kolokyne started to operate indepen- dently, its sensor suite was upgraded to the equivalent of what a light cruiser has. Designed to carry troopers, the Kolokyne's mission saw a fundamental change as the situation deteriorated. ConFed could no longer afford to move large numbers of troops, but desperately needed cargo ships. The Kolokyne became an important part in keeping up the flow of much needed goods. A vital part of the system, the Kolokyne has always been kept in a state of good repair. When refitting was necessary, the ship received priority. Quite a few less crucially important vessels, like frigates and destroyers, are in a sad state of repair, despite their crew's best efforts. The Kolokyne has a complete machine shop, an advantage most ships do not have. Half of the ship's cargo space is devoted to freight, be it cargo, tanks, aeros, or ammunition. The rest of the room was set aside for soldiers, The decks devoted to the soldiers were kept, despite the gross loss of space to bulkheads and furniture. Despite the modularity, 80m cargo decks are hard to find, and Central Command wants to retain the capacity to move a large number of soldiers if needed. The bunkroom space is used to carry small crates. Fortunately, the designers considered the possibility, and the rooms can be converted, after a fashion, for cargo use. The main corridors are also large enough that a skilled operator can maneuver a small forklift without difficulty. Loading and unloading remains a painful process, one that is partially alleviated by the large airlocks that have been built on each deck, after the war. When unloading a bunkroom, work crews bring their own pallets and metal straps, pile the cargo on the pallets by hand, and strap everything. The process is usuallly helped by null-gee, but the crew sometimes start the work while still under weight if the stay is to be short. The pileup of supplies into corridors is a flagrant breach of regulations, but one that is common, often necessary. Merchanters will often sail with carefully strapped cargo in the corridors. No port authority will complain of this. An irritating problem to the crew is that the walls inevitably get scraped by mishandled crates, leaving walls with damaged paint, giving the ship a shabby look. When there is time, paint is applied where too much paint has been scraped off. Before the war, the normal bunking arrangement was two crewmembers to a cabin double the size of yours. Plus one bathroom per cabin. In the merchant fleet, that situation has changed, as it did in the EDF. Normally, there are now four crewmembers in the cabin that held two, freeing a lot of space for cargo, even on ships like frigates. On the Kolokyne, things are different. The crew and the infantry detachment are bunked, four per cabin, in the cubicles originally meant for the troopers in transit. As the designers sought to cram the largest number of soldiers in the ship without having them at each other's throat, they eventually came up with the basic design that can be found on most troop transports. Bathrooms are communal, saving a lot of space. The facilities are separate for males and females. The bunkrooms are functional, but not meant to pass more than sleeping time in them. Each room holds two superposed bunks for a total of four bunks. The bunks are recessed into the bulkheads. Each bunk has two large drawers under the matress. There are four lockers built into the walls with a two cubic meters volume. It may seem like a lot of space, but it is not when you have to store your space suit, armor, personal effects and weapons into them. Those lockers have a small mirror built in, have several drawers, and have provisions for the good storing of weapons, armor and suit. There is also a communal cupboard in the wall facing the door, above the foldable table. The table has a computer terminal built into it. There are also two surprisingly comfortable folding chairs that are to be clamped in their recess at all times they are not in use. Next to the door is a fire-extinguisher recessed into the wall. There is a communication pannel on the wall, complete with screen and camera. The camera has an activation switch on it and a blinking light when it is active. The bathrooms and the rooms are not monitored, but they are nearly the only places on board where there is no monitoring. The bunks are two meters in length, 80 cm deep, with 80 cm of overhead space, which allows seated positions for most species. Mice find the bunks a quite spacious playing area, while tigers and bears must take some care when moving. In the wall of each bunk is a small screen. You pull on it and it pivots out of the wall, and you can adjust it at the angle you want. Small speakers or earphones give you the sound. There is a jack in the wall, and you can plug your hand computer in. If you want to watch some relaxing show, you just raid the large library with your computer and can have it on screen. Or if you want to be woken by your favorite music, then you can program it in the computer. Each bunk also has a privacy curtain. It even blocks the worst of the snores from your neighbors! There are small clamps and, if it remains shipshape, you can "decorate" your bunk space. The rest of the room may also be decorated, but it takes the agreement of everyone, and that is hard to get. The bunkrooms are also self-contained compartments. In case of pressure loss, the doors, which are to be kept closed at all times, act as vacuum proof doors. The room has it's own emergency equipment. Five life bubbles that drop from the ceiling, two days of food, air and water for four critters. The food, water, and first aid kit are in a compartment under the floor. There is also a dry "toilet", but it is a fairly basic item. A small battery pack provides enough electricity for lights and life-support The door does not close on its own when pressure drops, though it will self-seal if closed. Nearly every door on the ship can act as a vacuum proof door, and most compartments have their own emergency supplies. Furthermore, each deck has two emergency supplies area, where equipment and consumables can be found in relatively large quantities. On each deck is also an emergency tools locker. Quite a few portable tools can be found there, as well as repair parts. Temporary airlocks are also available. While the door is not locked, unauthorized or unjustified entry is forbidden and the AI will light a blinking light on the bridge. The same thing will occur if emergency supplies storage is accessed. Firefighting equipment and first aid kits can quickly be accessed from most parts of the ship. Life bubbles are also available nearly everywhere there is a pressurized section. There are few things that can burn on a spaceship. Even uniforms and blankets are made of non-flamable materials. Most of what can burn, however, burns fiercely. In case of major fire, fast-acting Halon gas is instantly mixed with the atmosphere, robbing the air of it's oxygen contents. One of the best fire-fighting means, it also means that no one can breathe the atmosphere and be sustained. The best fire-fighting method is also the hardest on personnel. When a fire threathens the safety of the ship, the AI may sometimes decide to depressurize a compartment. As this is a critical-emergency response, there is often no warning, and depressurization is violent. Each deck where crew and soldiers are expected to live have a compar- tment with enough medical supplies to equip a small surgery room, a small laboratory, and good quantity of medication. This is above the emergency medical supplies, as the ship could serve as an hospital ship if things did not go as well as planned. Those supplies are crated and not really meant for immediate use. The "ducts", as the crawlways are commonly called, are not meant for the larger species. Indeed, it is rare to see a ship's engineer that is of large build, or claustrophobic. The crawlways are often sited close to the hull itself, where there are no corridors. While some corridors do go right to the hull, those are not numerous as they take a lot of volume, and are there only because some maintenance requires the use of spare parts that cannot be brought in through the crawlways. Bringing large spares by the crawlways is an exercise in contortions and often a laborious process. Ilkily, who often has to go in them, usually has gloves, a helmet, and pads at the knees and elbows. Ducts have self-closing sliding doors at regular intervals to comparmentalize them, but there are no life bubbles and few emergency supplies in them. Few of even the smallest species are deft enough to get in with space suits. The crawlways can be quite dangerous in vacuum, if damage has been taken and shrapnell is in. In such situations, it is normal practice to cut through bulkheads. The doors to the ducts are open all times, the access covered by a grillage. A simple mechanism shuts the ducts in case of fire or loss of pressure. As there is no fancy life-support system in them, air must be pumped in and out, and colored ribbons hang on the grills to show that there is an air flow. When the ribbons hang limp, you may worry about accumulation of dangerous gasses in the crawlway. While most of the ship's precious bots are diverted to maintenance of the crawlways, two decades without serious overhaul or refit and use of wartime safety limits have left their toll. While not dangerous, the temperature is often too hot, or too cold for comfort. Oil, grease and other lubricants and coolants have leaked or seeped through the passing years. While the situation is the same everywhere on the ship, makeshift repairs and jurry-rigged spares are nowhere as evident as in the crawlways. Important repairs are always done to the Engineer's best abilities, but Ilkily has no time for such paltry things as temperature control so long as it remains within safe parameters, and it shows in how summarily she deals with such problems. The reason it is so evident in the ducts is that there often is no covering panel in front of the non-delicate equipment, whereas in the corridors everythin is covered for crew morale. Also, Traxx is more enclined to fix minor things when it affects several persons at once. Probably the worst part of the crawlways is on decks 7 through 9, where debris from an ACV near-miss hit the ship during the war. There, one can see the repairs done, and several empty machinery cavities where damaged equipment was removed and never replaced. That which remains has a battered look. Opening a crawlway access will prompt a reaction from the AI, which will routinely monitor who is entering the crawlway. If it decides that unauthorized personel is entering, it may decide to take action. The Reck Deck The so-called recreation deck is where most of the personel pass their time. There is the cafeteria/mess area where meals are served. It does not look like a cafeteria, and the meals served are a notch or three above cafeteria fare. Dok is the cook, and he cooks well. He is also ready to cook niceties for those special head-to-head suppers; it is likely that a small charge will be levied as he likes to use more exotic ingredients that are considered luxury food, and thus must be charged as per regulation. Food and drink is of course free, except for luxury items, and it can be had at all hours. On the normal hours, Dok will have warm meals ready, but there is also packaged food ready, and you only have to microwave it. Alcohol: while alcoholic beverages are usually unknown, some drinks do have alcohol in them. Those are banned from the ship, and the only way to have them is by smuggling them in (grumble. Arm twister :) It is also possible to use the kitchen, for those who are so enclined. Dok, however, insists on some basic courtesy: the kitchen must be spotless, the dishes washed. Offenders will have to do without a meal for a few days. The cafeteria is spacious, taking half of the deck. The finish of the room is pleasant: the tables are of varnished wood (the real stuff, treated against fire) as are the chairs. The bulkheads are covered with wood paneling, as is the ceiling and floor. Wood beams also run from one side to the other. The regulations were pushed to their limits so that the obligatory warning signs did not clash with the decor. In that frame of mind, the thrust direction arrows are made of dark brown wood. There are paintings on the wall, most of them depicting outdoors scene, and there is a large observation window. When docked, the window is usually aimed toward the planet below. Comfortable sofas and armchairs are strategically placed in the room. There are screens, and it is possible to ask the computer to show specific movies/news program/series. The sound suite is also quite sophis- ticated, and has the ship's library to back it. Well-placed partitions make quiet and private nooks. The lighting can be varied, and it can range from well-lit to nearly dark. And for those who want a rest from computers, there is also a small library along one wall, with real books. The rules on putting the books in their place are strictly enforced, and woe to him who eats while reading: the way Dok treats them, those books might as well be his. There is a quantity of plants and, overall, this is a good place to eat and to pass time in idle conversation. For those who want more privacy, there are three separate rooms where one can eat or discuss in peace. You have to reserve the rooms in advance. In those rooms is a single table of adustable size, chairs, a sofa and two armchairs. Each of the room also has a sound suite, observation window (in times of alert, armored doors cover the windows), wooden finish and carpeted floors. As in the mess, there are plants and paintings on the walls. There, however, the feeling of not being on a warship is most real: the walls, ceiling and floor are insulated against the barely audible hum of ship life. The air system there is better than anywhere else, and the air somehow does not tastes of bottled air. The overall finish is also of higher quality. The rest of the deck is taken by the kitchen, computer room (with some quite dazzling computer games: when several persons get together to play 'DOOM: The return of the Republic', the room resounds with warning yells and cries of dismay. Usually, more legitimate computer work is done in a smaller room, where reasonable silence is mandatory. There are also two viewing rooms: one is large and is used for popu- lar movies shown to many, it doubles also as a briefing room, though Zemlyk and Tylda favor another smaller room on another deck. The second viewing room is smaller, seating four or five comfortably. There, you can call anything in the computer library (it is big) or catch direct broadcasts from planets if the feed is good enough. That room is fairly comfortable, with wood panelings and carpet. The sofa and carpeting is easily washable for those furries who spill their soft drinks or drop their pop corn. ---- You may use this file for personal use. You may also redistribute it provided that this message is there and no alterations have been made to this file. Albedo and Birthright are copyrighted by Steve Gallacci. This file was written for use with my Albedo email game; elements in it may very well diverge from the official storyline. As well, in this or other files, certain elements may have been modified to suit my game. This file may contain game-related information directed at my players that make no sense to you: I unfortunately do not have the time to go over my files and make the necessary corrections. Louis Fillion kamerym@cam.org (main address) lfillion@buscom.ca (secondary address) ----