TECHNICAL DETAILS
Field Reported // Submission by: Chief Engineer Birmingham Irish, SCS Jupiter’s Ghost
Class: Odyssey-class Deep Space Exploration & Aid Vessel
Registration: SCS-01
Affiliation: Space Corps, Solar Federation (Nominal)
Launched: 782 Standard (As SPS Vigilant, Space Patrol)
Refit: 814 Standard (Transferred to Space Corps)
Crew Complement: ~160 (Incl. 15-20 Cadets)
Current Status: Active (Perpetually)
Motto: “The Work Continues.”
The Jupiter’s Ghost is the flagship of the Space Corps. You can listen to logs of their missions.
History: A Second Life
The Jupiter’s Ghost is not a new ship. It is a repurposed one. For thirty-two years, it served the Space Patrol as the battlecruiser SPS Vigilant, the enforcement arm of a Federation that was already beginning to forget its ideals. Its history is etched into its durasteel hull: laser scoring from border skirmishes, the faint outlines of welded-over torpedo ports, and a structural frame designed for aggression, not aid.
In 814 Standard, it was officially decommissioned, a political gesture to signal a new era of peace. The Space Corps, perennially underfunded and overlooked, received the hull. In a massive refit, its offensive capabilities were removed—a symbolic act, though the power conduits and targeting subsystems were merely deactivated, left to gather dust in the dark like sleeping ghosts. Its new designation, Jupiter’s Ghost, is a quiet joke among the crew: a specter of its former self, haunting the edges of Federation space, doing the work its original masters abandoned.
Design & Capabilities: A Study in Contradictions
The Ghost is a ship of stark contrasts, a physical manifestation of the Corps’s precarious position.
- Armament: Officially, the vessel is unarmed, in strict adherence to Space Corps charter. Practically, it retains its formidable defensive shielding, point-defense lasers for micrometeorite clearance (which can be… creatively calibrated), and a secured armory containing blasters and stunners for away-team defense. The crew is combat-trained. This is not a preference; it is a necessity born of operating far from the Patrol’s so-called “protection.”
- Propulsion & Systems: It remains the fastest large civilian vessel in the Federation, a testament to its martial pedigree. However, its advanced systems are a constant maintenance nightmare. The Ghost is held together by ingenuity, replicated parts, and a stubborn refusal to quit. It is not uncommon for vital systems to be powered by jury-rigged bypasses that would give a Solar Guard inspector a coronary. It is, in the words of its Chief Engineer, “a beautiful disaster.”
- Mission Profile: The ship is equipped with state-of-the-art scientific sensors, advanced medical bays, extensive cargo holds for relief supplies, and a fabrication deck capable of manufacturing anything from water purifiers to structural components. It is a mobile hospital, a science lab, and a rescue tug, all crammed into a hull designed for war.
Crew & Culture: The Unseen Foundation
The crew of ~160 is a mix of career Corps personnel, idealistic scientists, and Cadets logging “Star Hours” for Academy credit. They are not the polished heroes of Federation newsreels. They are tired, overworked, resourceful, and fiercely loyal to each other and the ship’s true mission.
Life aboard the Ghost is defined by a shared understanding: no one is coming to help them. They are the help. This forges a bond that transcends species or rank. The chain of command is respected, but it is flexible; a Cadet with a good idea will be heard over a seasoned officer with a bad one. They have to be this good, because the margin for error is razor-thin.
They are deeply cynical of official channels from the Core Systems, viewing them as either irrelevant or actively hostile. Their allegiance is not to the Federation bureaucracy on Mars, but to the people they help and to the ship itself—the last true instrument of the Federation’s original promise.
Current Operational Assessment
The Jupiter’s Ghost is perpetually on mission. It does not return to Port for long. Its current operational logs show a pattern of responding to crises arguably created by Federation neglect or Patrol heavy-handedness: delivering medical aid to colonies the Patrol has quarantined, mediating disputes the Patrol escalated, and repairing infrastructure the Federation has failed to maintain.
The ship is showing its age. Stress fractures are appearing in the primary hull, critical engine components are far past their recommended service life, and the list of “can’t-repair-without-drydock” failures grows longer every cycle. The Space Corps Leadership, at least those who remain in the good graces of the Federation, advocate tirelessly for additional funding to further refit the Ghost, or to build a fit for purpose replacement. The Federation has, to date, not acknowledged these requests.
The Ghost will continue its work. It has no other choice. It will continue until it literally falls apart in the void.
The work continues.
