Class A, B and C
Typically small, young planets whose class depends on their age and solidity of their cores.
Class D objects are planetoids like asteroids and some moons.
Class E, F and G
Typically, Proto-Earth-sized planets whose class depends on their age and solidity of their cores.
Class H planets appear in the series as harsh desert worlds.
Class of gas giant, larger than Class J, and smaller than Class S and T.
Class J and T
Class J and Class T planets are gas giants. Class J are smaller than Class T which are considered “super”, or “ultra”, gas giants.
Class K planets are barren worlds with no native life. They do not possess breathable atmospheres, but have reasonably tolerable gravity, thus they can be colonized with atmospheric domes. However, through terraforming, they can be made into Class M worlds.
Class L planets are barely habitable worlds with primitive ecosystems.
Class N planets have a reducing environment and are barren and rocky with extremely high surface temperatures caused by thick atmospheres containing carbon dioxide and corrosive sulfides.
From the Vulcan term “Minshara,” is a fictional classification for planets and planetoids in the Star Trek science fiction media franchise.
Their atmospheres are composed of nitrogen and oxygen and have an abundance of liquid water necessary for carbon-based life to exist. Extensive plant and animal life often flourishes; often, a sentient race is also present. Earth is a textbook example of a Class M world.
Class O and P
Planets covered almost completely with water (class O), or water–ice (class P).
Planets with continually changing environments caused by peculiar orbits, an orbit around a variable output star, or some other factor which causes conditions to drastically change over time.
A rogue planetary body, which is one that does not orbit a star but drifts freely in space. However, not all rogue planets are classified as Class R.
Class of gas giant smaller than Class T and the next larger size up from Class I.
The largest class of gas giant. Smaller gas giants are, in order of decreasing size, Class S, I, and finally J.
Class Y planets are referred to as “Demon” worlds, where surface conditions do not fall into any other recognized category. Such worlds are usually hostile and lethal to humanoid life. If life develops on these worlds they usually take on many bizarre forms, like living crystal or rock, liquid or gaseous physical states, or incorporeal, dimensional, or energy-based states.
Class X and Z
Reserved for other designations of “demon” planets.
[this surprises no one]
[He brings the swatted arm up and tucks it under his head, his other hand absently stroking Jim’s hair.]
I don’t remember adopting a cat.
Apparently, which is always, you know, a great idea until the mental breakdowns start happening. Yeah, I get Academy training has them harder than most, but it doesn’t turn them into fucking stone.
Let’s not talk about those stuffed shirts, alright? It was bad enough the one time you took me to one of their formal dinners. I still don’t think Admiral Warn- Walr- Wescott? Whatever. I don’t think he’s ever forgiven me about telling him the symptoms of overindulging on Plomeek tea.
[Sighing, he leans into the touch, muttering under his breath.]
Training doesn’t mean much until you’ve experienced it yourself. You can write as many papers as you want on the ethics of self-sacrifice, but it doesn’t prepare you to see someone die in front of you or have to choose between yourself and your team.
[A low giggle works its way up from his chest, prompting him to roll over and grin, unrepentant.] I dunno, Bones, you were more entertaining than I ever could have hoped. The look on Wainscott’s face was probably the only thing that kept me from punching him across the table over the way he dealt with that last treaty I brought him.
[Some training does, and in most fields experience is a form of training, but Leo has to agree. Most situations, well, no amount of training prepared you for them. So he lets the topic go.]
[He also isn’t about to admit the dangerous sparks in Jim’s eyes were what caused him to interject for the first time that even. Well, that and the utter condescension the man spoke with when talking to Jim, and the fact that he dared mention Christopher Pike- Yeah, better not to think about it.] I still feel sorry Mrs. Wainscott had to listen in. The poor woman was already putting up with enough being married to the man, she didn’t really need to suffer with him too.
[Walks over to drop and flop against, clearly bored and with the catlike sensibility that other people should and would fix this. Especially his best friend.] Booooooones. We should go out or something.
Careful with those, I just folded that laundry, dammit. [chuckles as he turns around to check the mirror. Well, his eyes aren’t bloodshot from reading, and he could probably use a good shave…]
[worries his stylus between his teeth, then snaps out of the focus he was in] What? Jim, no. I have a reading to finish.
Nah. Richards I have no problem with. He’s a good man and a good Doctor when it comes to it. These kids are just in for the surprise of their life when they get tossed into an actual emergency situation. Besides [his voice is muffled as he pulls off his black undershirt to grab a denim button up] if you put me in charge of grading freshman papers either I’ll kill something or the freshman will go into riot mode. [looks up from a particularly difficult button] Where are we going again?
[A pair of cadet red trousers are tossed over a chair, skinny boxer-brief-clad hips already wiggling into the too-snug jeans he’d found folded underneath his best friend’s clothes.] Isn’t that kinda counterproductive, though? Not giving them emergency training now is gonna force them to makes guesses in the middle of a potential crisis. [a shadow crosses his expression as he fiddles with the hem of his shirt] Throwing kids into a death zone with no warning and no experience with it… they’re going to be fucked in the head, if they even survive.
[Pulling his jacket on with more force than the synthetic leather deserves, Jim blew out a breath, the huff turning to a laugh as he flopped back down on the bed] I can just imagine the reams of red-ink notations all over their reports. No goddamn it that’s wrong, what were you, born in a barn? [pulling on his boots, he considers the question] There’s Donovan’s for the drinks, but I kinda want food, too. Are you hungry?
Which is why they’re required to do a minimum of 5000 hours in an emergency room before being able to practice on a ship. [He looks over, critical] A death zone? Where do you think we send our ships? Qo’nos?
[And then he rolls his eyes and goes back to struggling with the button] Only on your papers, and only because I’m pretty sure you’d be able to correct it without me holding your hand through the process. And if I remember our last drunken romp correctly, you decided you were, in fact, born in a barn. [Finally the damn thing fits through its hole. Has he worn this shirt before? He could have sworn he has, so why’s the button so damn hard to get right.] Well, I don’t think I’ve eaten enough to justify going out, so I suppose I could go for a bite.