Ares

There have been twelve other ships in recorded Imperial history to have received the name of the Athelonian God of War. The first was a war galley launched by the city-state of Athelon some time in 980 BA (Before Aesar). At this ceremony the pagan priests of the time appealed to their deity of the wilder aspect of war opposed to their patron goddess. The only text recording this event, which hints at the presence of a notable storm, claims that the terrible figure of the God of War appeared before them in storm cloud banks. The text claims that Ares mocked the people for their arrogance, and that no ship of war would ever be worth his name, but he bestowed a blessing any way. A "blessing" upon all ships to bear the name promising the greatest of battle fortune, but the harshest of the dregs of warfare. Furthermore, in their quest to create the ships to be worthy of such a name their builders would know many failures in their quest for perfection. Little is known what happened thereafter other than the simple fact that the ship perished with all hands after excellent performance in battle. This became an odd pattern, as the double-edged blade of a blessing turned into both fortune and curse, although the modern church would assure you that it is all superstition and misfortune. Easterners would point out bad karma for trying to rise above mortal means, but most agree that it was due to human failure. Every once in a while a commander would develop the gall to test the old forsaken legend or brand his ship with the legendary title, often with mixed results as men continued to test fate in what's that only men can.

 

The whole ordeal was a major source of concern within the Church as the Pope and his cardinals struggled to argue against such a Pagan, and ill-fated name. Unfortunately due to the rapid modernization of the Empire and the growth of "common sense" this was easily avoided by the general public and the Admiralty. It was a truly impressive name after all.

 

An ironclad battleship bearing the name from the Bolish War in 1865 was reported to have sunk two Aritannian warships in the Battle of Gragów Bay, only to sink as her ram detached itself upon striking the ship's second victim. This clear failure was ignored, and the odd circumstances that allowed the Lorraini ship Gloiréan to ironically become the source of attention the world over for the next half-century. Needless to say that the loss of life was catastrophic. When the Church took over all religious matters before the Third Troytonian Empire fell, and all things pagan literally vanished, no ship rceived the name for three hundred years until in 1735 a fifth rate frigate received the title. This very ship went on to have a respectable and famed fifty-year service as a pirate hunter, traveling across the world. It is speculated today that her own high casualties were owed to the inferior South Emmerian wood (obtained in the old Imperial colony on the continent) utilized in her construction that caused excessive splintering upon cannonball impact.

 

In 1922 a naval enthusiast named Georges Tyrell proposed a large cruiser design that could field aircraft, but match the firepower of the largest cruisers afloat. The Admiralty accepted his concept design with readiness, building and launching the Cervantes-class heavy cruisers with a spar deck between funnel and rear mast, allowing for the service of two naval aircraft. Appalled that the Marina Imperiale had not opted for his own (ambitious) design and unsatisfied with the Cervantes, Tyrell launched a political campaign, making extensive use of lobbying, against the Admiralty. After he won public and Senate support, the Admiralty conceded, and the large experimental heavy cruiser was ordered in mid-1923, and also winning the right to naming it (as well as direct the project) Tyrell had the ship infamously branded Ares in its original document, an act that received much criticism over the next few years, mostly referring to the renowned arrogance of the man who insisted upon its construction. Whether or not he knew of the name's unfortunate history is unknown. Although a section of the Admiralty scrambled to change the name to "Argus", the appeal was firmly squashed by the Imperial Senate. This was born the thirteenth ship of that unfortunate name, and the controversial story of a navy's most dreaded warship began.

 

The more watered down design called for a large cruiser that could field a squadron of naval scout, fighter or even attack planes but with the same firepower as the preceding Cervantes class, with five 9.2in guns forward of the superstructure. The Admiralty knew full well the required size of such a ship was truly great, and expressed their concerns, but the majority of the Senate had faith in Tyrell and his posse of designers, and they were looking for a response to the particularly large cruiser designs revealed in the the four massive Kūn class "battlecruisers" constructed by the Qin Imperium, and then later the Order of Achatius' Holmfirth (the famous "flagcruiser" designed to hunt and sink the Whispering Mare).The plan was to construct the prototype, then, depending on its success, order three other ships with the (if necessary) alterations. Tyrell upset this orderly process by making several interjections, calling for last-minute additions to the design. Among these were six quad torpedo launchers in turrets to be stored beneath the vessel's aircraft deck, and thus utilizing the "empty space". Later during actual construction he called for a new fast-firing 11in gun instead of the battle-tested 9.2in rifles used on the Cervantes. He argued that if they were going to make a powerful cruiser they should at least give it powerful armament. It is commonly believed that this action was an attempt to size-up the Achatian Holmfirth with her own six 10in guns. The proposed 11in guns were an entirely new concept to a navy focused on larger caliber and heavier rifles, and only after consulting Emmerian engineers about their own 11in guns did the long process of gun design begin, which denied the constructors to install and test the weapons on the ship until after launch.

 

The initial challenge was a great surprise. Perceptan dockyards pride themselves on their thoroughly modern facilities and world-class quality, and although using different engineers, the successfully designs of the previous Cervantes-class, were on hand for the construction of the experimental "aviation cruiser" and provided the perfect base design for Tyrell. Some claim it is because of the sheer size of the project and the requirements it was supposed to meet, the more limited dockyards of Valsyrion, the inexperienced designers that Tyrell had roped in, or (according to the ship's masterminds) the shoddy workmanship was to blame on the projects eventual outcome.

 

Work began in earnest, with the ambitious design quickly being passed through the multiple inspections without incident before being laid down, and oddly being recommend as "a fine display of naval engineering" by on of the inspectors. Despite this, several members of the Admiralty who inspected the plans expressed deep concerns stating that the design had not been altered enough from the Cervantes to account for the vast extra tonnage of the ship. Tyrell and the designing committee successfully suppressed this, assuring the Admiralty that the ship would not cause issues, but would instead completely outclass the Cervantes. Tyrell publicly boasted that he would "show them a thing or two about ship building". The general public loved him for daring to challenge the Imperial Navy. But the initial confidence of her designers dissipated almost immediately, as concerns presented themselves when the workers encountered extreme difficulty in working with the hull. A multitude of completely unexplainable accidents claimed the hands, limbs and lives of several men as the project slowed down, until renewed pressure from the Admiralty sped it up again. The working class of Valsyrion rose in a general strike after a section of the hull literally fell off, and claimed the lives of two men and the leg of a third. The strike called for more extensive safety measures, which the Navy was fast to accept. From there on construction continued more slowly and carefully, but half-way through construction the entire forward section of the long hull came close to buckling in on itself. After the fault was discovered and attributed to worker's fault rather than design deficiency, the plans were edited, calling for stronger reinforcement. When first tested in a water-filled drydock the hull rolled dangerously in the ocean winds blowing inland. This severe instability was completely unacceptable, so the hull was made deeper, with increased torpedo bulges.

 

Despite the growing concern of Admiralty and Senate officials, Tyrell used his political influence to ensure the project received the extra funding it needed. Several senior Navy engineers voiced concerns that the completed ship might not even be able to sustain an artillery or torpedo hit without capsizing, a warning ridiculed by Tyrell, but quietly heeded nonetheless.

 

After this revelation the designers realized, with great alarm, that the increasingly demanding requirements to stay afloat placed more and more pressure on the hull integrity. Imperial standards dictated structural integrity to be good, but even though keeping the same strong design of the Cervantes the pressure being placed on the hull by armour and newly-planned armament was disproportionate, delaying construction by an extra month as the engineers increased the strength of almost every aspect of the ship they could lay their hands on, as well as raising the armour belt and enlarging the hull so that the vessel's protection would not become submerged once the rest of the ship was added.

 

The enormous (and gradually increasing) weight of the ship necessitated more boilers than the previous Cervantes to retain the same required speed of 35 knots. As the rear of the ship was occupied by the spar (aircraft) deck much of the unused space just below decks was utilized for the increased engine block. A design oversight was that the schematics did not factor in another set of funnels to disperse the smoke generated from the extra engines. A large, elaborate (and heavy) series of complex trunks spanning the ships middle interior were required to issue the excess smoke through the same two fused funnels of the Cervantes. As a result, the entire midsection of the ship was evenly heated to uncomfortable levels, and extreme pressure was forced on the funnels and smoke trunks. The Perceptan doctrine for crew comfort called for an air conditioning system to help offset the issue. This massive system, however, put strain on the ships electric generators, which could only allow the unreliable air conditioning to be activated when the ship was well out of battle space.

 

Tyrell found the single four 5.5in mounts on the Cervantes unfavorable for his ships secondary armament. He had the plans augmented by seven more of the dual-purpose weapons, including four in the middle of the artillery deck. After much debate the number was decreased by two, and the extra guns in the forward part of the ship were sunken into the deck in odd casemates that allowed their ~80 degrees of gun elevation, and stay out of the way of the main battery, but in rough seas these guns would be near useless, and their crews only saved from period by the standardized turrets of the Marina Imperiale's smaller armaments.

 

Another problem was armour. The ship's basic design parameters required that it be able to exchange fire with other large cruisers, and some exceptional cases: ships armed with 9.2 and 10 inch guns. It would also be required to operate with the other cruisers of the fleet. Being bigger and possibly slower than the other heavy cruisers in the fleet, as well as distinctly recognizable, meant that Ares would draw focused enemy attention in battle. Therefore the armour needed to be thick enough to survive under heavy fire, and the ship be ready to receive the shots that penetrated. Once again, Tyrell resolved the issue by decreeing a minimum armour belt of six inches thick. The Treasury, which had been forced into the ruinously expensive and (God forbid) budget-exceeding project, baulked, and the Admiralty displayed new alarm, but Tyrell's Senate partners squashed the arguments of both.

 

When still incomplete, the ship was finally launched, and having gone over its original budget by leaps and bounds, the Admiralty was desperate to extract good results from their investment. Her heavy armament of five 11in guns was finally installed, as well as a sizable secondary armament and the empty torpedo tubes beneath the spar deck, both products of a paranoid chief engineer. The tests ensued slowly and cautiously, as fault after fault was revealed. But after the crew began moaning about the heat, Tyrell (who was on board) ordered the tests be sped up, combining several activities together, perhaps in the hope that the might of his ship would out-shadow the crew's concerns in the test captain's report. Despite the strong build of the cruiser her main guns in their well-armoured turrets rotated appallingly slowly despite their well-mechanized mounts, and when she fired her first test salvo the ship rocked violently in the calm sea, and analysis revealed that her structure had not dealt with the stress well. Half the light bulbs in the forward section had been obliterated, and the screaming of metal haunts her test crewmen to this day. It is commonly acknowledged that too many of the powerful 11in rifles had been shoved into too small a space, and the design simply did not cater for the larger guns. In fact, the schematics for the turret section had hardly changed at all from the first design draft. Despite all the effort of his builders (ships of the name inherited the dubious title of masculinity by suspicious seamen), the Ares was not strong enough to handle the recoil of a full salvo of his own main guns, but by then it was far too late to turn back, and the ever-asserting Georges Tyrell refused to allow "his" ship to be made any weaker. Too much money had been invested in the design of the guns them she's, then the ammunition produced to supply them. Even after considerable refit, the guns are preferred to be fired in succession and not all at once as to not risk stressing the structure, or break things. But the worst of the issues was yet to follow. The new and massive number of boilers (30!) was deemed adequate to propel the sleek-hulled ship to speeds in excess of 35 knots, record speeds for a cruiser, especially one of her size. But as soon as the captain, under the influence of Tyrell, tried to push to 35 knots the engines started to make strange noises that baffled their engineers, and the immense pressure placed on the smoke trunks worsened audibly. At 36 the ungodly wail of tortured steel was heard throughout the ship, deafening and disorientating their servicers. Before they could shut the engines down, it reached 37 knots. Something must have caught fire or burst, just as the ships smoke trunks did, flooding the the engine room with smoke and fire. The ship's core became an inferno, the funnels roared flame as the explosion rocked the ship. Once returning to his feet, the acting captain ordered the engines cut. A minute later, the engines screeched to a halt. Dead. The dispersion of the smoke had already been a problem, flooding the rear mast and the gun director, but now it, and exposed sailors, had been burnt by the flame.

 

When dragged back into port, the elderly captain immediately resigned, and the full investigation began. All the men in the boiler rooms had been roasted alive, and the few who escaped bore horrid burns. Several other men sustained more minor injuries, the result of the ships violent pitches as he struggled to remain afloat.

 

At this point the Admiralty took matters into their own hands. A committee, to which Tyrell was not invited, was held to determine the ships fate. The intensive debate concluded with the obvious fact: the ship was too great an investment to scrap, especially since she was still-theoretically- in serviceable order, and would have been the first Imperial ship ever launched to not receive the honours of commission. Furthermore, Tyrell had applied to the general public for far too many loans to be just let slip, and the shadow of an unhappy Emperor loomed behind them all. Many of the ships original designers successfully washed their hands of the mess when the Navy's elite designers entered in an attempt to save the cruiser, but Tyrell continued to lobby in favour of having the project returned to him.

 

The final length of her construction resulted in further internal strengthening to absurd levels as every part of the ship received extra reinforcement, often in terms of thin armour. Extreme new safety measure that insisted upon the water-tightening and fireproofing of every single one of the hundreds of compartments on board to battleship levels of damage control. Her crew was increased in number to better enable damage control ability during battle, with total disregard for the already cramped conditions on board. Her rear mast was tilted back even further than it was before in an attempt to avoid the pillar of smoke generated by the funnels, and thus preserve the rear gun director, requiring extra reinforcement so that it didn't topple over, and it now rests on a new rear structure. The stresses of the design and limited room saw little space for lifeboats. The standard number was forced upon the ship, resulting in some of the boats getting in the way of deck teams. The shear expense of the warship and harsher Admiralty budgeting left very little funds donated to crew comfortability. The hull was deepened and the fuel storage cells enlarged in a bid to increase stability and torpedo protection, and his keels were increased in size. The boilers were separated into fifteen compartments, each separated by a bulkhead, and each with two boilers. In the event of flooding, fire, or some other disaster, the watertight bulkheads would keep the rest of the ships powerplant safe from harm.

 

Months later and the now world-infamous ship left drydock, complete at last. Many deficiencies of the original design have been dealt with, including the complete replacement of the vessel's powerplant and protection. But many more problems with the ship remain unsolved. Holes in the deck armour were discovered where spaces made for hatches were simply planked over by the deck. These had to have steel squares welded into place, instead of replacing the whole deck armour. And the unreasonably thick (6in) armour belt that became submerged when fully loaded had to be replaced with a much lighter belt. The electric generators were of an inferior model supplied by a personal friend of one of the designers, and was replaced by the standard kinetic model used by the navy. Extravagant gilding and art work was found around the ship's officer quarters, and an expensive main admiral's suite, while the facility for the general crew were found lacking. Needless to say, the unfortunate ship was mercilessly stripped bare. With the budget being far exceeded, the lavish attire of the central rooms was sold to help cover the cost, while the ship was equipped with cheap new internal furnishing that barely relieves the stress of living on board the monster. The ammunition rooms had never been altered from the Cervantes design, so that while the Admiralty completely remodeled the interior of the forward hull, improved interior protection was added around the magazines. The ship still suffers unpleasant roll whenever struck by torpedo or larger shells, and remains immensely uncomfortable, difficult and expensive to operate. The crew was selected from the worst, and the roughest of the navy's roster, often as punishment, but all Imperial sailors fear his name when the rosters change. In addition, the thin aircraft deck was replaced by an armoured one, and a hangar beneath that was contemplated with mechanical lifts to the deck. The plan was abandoned to help cut costs, and to avoid the risk of further weight. Besides, the spar deck housed the ships formidable torpedo armament, now reduced to four quad launchers. The aircraft deck has proven awkward to operate with the full complement of six aircraft, but the two extra cranes and catapults were added to deal with the issue. The only way to increase the size of the deck by then was an expensive modification to the hull, hardly an option.

 

Such a difficult ship was entrusted to Captain Junius Pearson, who displayed his ability when commanding the armoured cruisers Achilles and Kalexa against the Whispering Mare. It is hoped that the presence of such a skilled and determined commander could tame such a ship and crew. He continues to valiantly attempts to control the monster, often spending his own money in an attempt to improve the lives of his crew.

 

The extra weight resulted in the reduction of the top "safe" speed, lowering it from 34/35 to just 33 knots despite the very large number of new boilers.

 

Eventually though, one naval inspector had this to say about the ship:

 

"But for all his evils and faults, the blasted tub does have its saving graces. The first and foremost being that it is without doubt the strongest-built cruiser in the world, and one of the toughest warships ever launched. I believe that this is because of the constant attention the ship has warranted, and the vast amount of tonnage devoted to armour that has always seemed to be increasing. It has certainly ensured that the ship has received the best of everything the navy had to supply in order to increase the usefulness of the vessel. Second is that this cruiser remains a notably powerful warship. A heavier main battery than any other cruiser afloat, as well as six aircraft for scout and strike purposes makes for a highly impressive, if unusual, loadout. The massive fuel cells and storage space supplied by the equally large torpedo bulges allows for impressive range and endurance. And despite everything thrown at it in the more extensive than usual combat tests, the ship steadfastly refuses to take significant damage, or sink, no matter how much it throws the crew around. But don't get me wrong; once a potato, always a potato"

 

The meaning of that final phrase has long since been lost to time, but Ares would still cause a lot of pain during the remainder of his career, and destined for a special mention in the history books.

 

 

Original Displacement: 13,300 tons standard, 15,700 tons full load

 

 

Final Displacement: 16,500 tons standard, 19,500 tons full load

 

Propulsion: 30 oil boilers, geared steam turbines, 4 shafts

 

Top Speed: 33 knots (unless you have a death wish)

 

Range: (using 20/30 boilers) 18,500 kilometers at 14 knots

 

Armament: 5 x 11in guns, 9 x 5.5in guns, 6 x dual 37mm turrets, 20 x 25mm autocannons, 4 x quad 24in torpedo turrets

 

Armour: 4-5in belt, 1.5in deck, 3in aircraft deck, 3in (over vital compartments), 4in barbettes and magazine protection, 3in on turrets, 3-4in bulkheads, 6in conning tower, 0.5-2in internal strengthening.

 

Aircraft: 6

 

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Pros:

 

-Structural integrity is of legend

-Heavy armament

-Long range endurance

-Excellent armour for a cruiser

-Large complement of aircraft

-Excellent damage control

 

 

Cons:

 

-Many technical issues

-Main battery stresses

-Uncomfortable to operate

-Stability issues

-Cramped

-Too slow to operate with fast cruisers

-Slow turret traverse speed

-Deathtrap is unsafe

-Large turning circle

-Crew hates the ship

-Ship hates the crew

 

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Builder's Comments:

 

Forgive me for adding you all, but this build is a personal favourite of mine and I'd like to have some input on it. I love how the build itself turned out, and I'm not sure when I'll bring myself to dismantle it. The concept arose when I felt like doing something interesting- make an aviation cruiser like IJN Tone. Of course, things got a bit carrier away. What started off as a ship planned to have four 9.2" guns evolved when I couldn't find a black technic beam intermediate between the froward piece on this ship and that on Cervantes. I had the extra space, so I went ahead. Soon the shear promise of the fun to be had outran the test project of mine, creating a truly horrifying vessel.

 

I ended up making this ghoul of a ship. Powerful, without a doubt, but with so many issues it's hardly the worth the firepower. The story was inspired by the sorry tale of the HMS Captain. Thanks goes to Awe to sharing the pdf "World's Worst Warships" with me.

Done