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Forgotten Space Program


Cydonian Monk

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No mid-week update like I was hoping folks. Busier week than I expected. Most likely Sunday, since I'm in San Antonio Saturday. 

 

10 hours ago, DarkOwl57 said:

Okay, THAT'S IT! I am re-creating this thing if it kills me! 

Good luck. If it does end up (nearly) killing you, the craft file is up on KerbalX. I'll have a stock version of the Cobalt up on KerbalX sometime this weekend, too. 

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This update is half of what I had intended to post, but I need to rework two of the screenshots for the second half and rewrite some of the prose. Not happy with my second draft.... And I'm still feeling rather completely under the weather. Unless things go further south for me (how?) then hopefully I'll have the rest of this done by Friday. Just need to fire up my copy of KSP that has Animator installed and reshoot a small scene. 

I'm happy to have January behind me, considering I've been sick-ish almost the entire month.

Also, I will most likely slightly rework this post once I've regained my senses and actually proof read it again. :wink: I'm already a bit salty at my spellchecker that insists "sopaceworthy" is the proper spelling of "spaceworthy" and I just want to post the derned thing. 

Cheers.

 

====

Iron Supplements

The first Iron shuttle had proven itself spaceworthy so The Boss scheduled a second one. Having two Irons and two (working) Sulphurs in the system for their crews to use would help alleviate some of the stress. Plus it would allow them to make regular runs to The Mün and possibly Minmus. They still needed to get some more fuel in orbit, but for now they could make do. 

There were a few changes in this new Iron, made primarily to the relay antenna and the launch fairing. No one was quite certain how the fairing of the previous Iron had ripped the antenna off, so they made its new placement rather conservative and increased the width of the fairing at the same time. (And they crossed their fingers.) The only other changes were minor tweaks to the placement of smaller, less important parts. Wiggles, really, not really much of a design change.

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The fingers had been crossed well enough, as this relay antenna survived first stage jettison. The second stage fired up and the Iron powered its way into orbit.

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This launch was the first of a two-stage operation, and merely needed to place the Fe-2 into a parking orbit above Kerbin. Any stable orbit would do. Once there, the Fe-2 would await the second piece, the craft that would accompany it to The Mün. The guidance software that launched this Iron was perhaps more accustomed to "rockety" rockets, and burned the shuttle into a slightly higher than expected orbit. It continued burning until the craft's periapsis was above the atmosphere, and then shut down, entering into its quiet slumber.

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With that, the Iron 2 was safe and sound in its rather temporary 70km by 120km parking orbit.

--


Manganese Mün

Next up was the Manganese Module bound for Pequoni Research Station at the Mün. While the module itself was identical to the previous Manganese, its destination necessitated a much larger launch vehicle. Something the LV-10 was not even remotely capable of lofting into orbit. Thus was born the LV-11 Nocturne. A rather simple rocket, the LV-11 used two of the KS-25 Vector engines to power its way into space. One Vector was capable of lifting a Titanium and its tank, so two should be more than capable of pushing a skyscraper full of fuel and experiments to The Mün, right? 

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Right?

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Of course they were. The Boss wasn't sure who's idea this rocket was, but she had signed off on it immediately. It may be a new twist on an old concept, but it used parts developed by Wernher to do the crazy type of things only Wernher would think of. And it looked nothing at all like the madness Jonbald had cooked up for the Iron. 

Whoever had designed it was due an extra round of corn chips, and perhaps their own private bowl of queso dip.

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The launch had been timed nearly perfectly. The Iron 2 sailed overhead just as the first stage burned out and the second stage's Skipper took over. The second stage placed the craft almost into orbit, requiring only the shortest of burns from the Manganese's wet workshop styled propulsion stage to finish the ascent. 

Once the Manganese 3 was in orbit, the Iron 2 was a mere 22 kilometers ahead of it, an easy distance to clear. The ground controllers had the flight computer pull back from the craft's original apoapsis to allow the station to catch up with the Iron 2, set up the rendezvous, and then wandered off to the snack table. What they failed to noticed was the periapsis of the Manganese 3 dropped down to 68km immediately prior to the rendezvous. 

Ooops.

In the end it only resulted in a tiny discrepancy, a few m/s lost. Well within the Iron's ability to match.  

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Shortly thereafter the two had met and mated together, preparing for the long trip to the Mün. In the dark, as is only right and proper.

That munar trip began some half orbit after the docking. The controllers transferred all of the fuel from the Iron into the Manganese's propulsion module (it would need it), calculated the burn so that the Manganese could rendezvous with Pequoni Station. A long, seven minute burn that would use up almost all of the two ship's combined fuel.

The burn went exactly according to plan.

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Since the Mn-3/Fe-2 would need most of its fuel to complete the transfer and rendezvous, the space program would need to send more fuel and soon. The reserves they had been skimming from were running low, and thus far no other Forgotten tankers had been found in orbit. (Though surely there were some out there they had yet to find. The Boss knew of at least four.) 

Yet that was something that could wait until they had finished the first of their research tasks. Until they had unlocked more of the secrets of the universe's tech tree.

Until they had found Wernher.

 

--

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Edited by Cydonian Monk
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14 hours ago, Garibaldi2257 said:

excellent update, and thank you @Cydonian Monk

Thank you and You're Welcome!

 

9 minutes ago, Plecy75 said:

So, what exactly happened to Werner?

In my universe, Wernher and Gene don't start out with the space program. Rather they are hired on or attracted to it somewhere before crewed spaceflight starts. That's something I've held to thematically in most of these stories.

As such, with each of these resets or Cycles, Wernher and Gene are somewhere far off. (Wernher would be from what I think of as the Westlands.... I've never established where Gene comes from.) If allowed to develop naturally, the two would eventually find their own way to KSC. As The Boss, Jonbald, etc, are forcefully accelerating the start of each new cycle, they have to go out and find those two so they can work their magic.

As for why the two are important?..... Reasons. :D

Edited by Cydonian Monk
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On 2-2-2017 at 7:13 PM, Cydonian Monk said:

As for why the two are important?

Well, in most stories Werhner is a genius designing most of the stuff, so that's might be what he is needed for. My main question is: Why don't they just strap these guys into a sounding rocket going to 71km and thus keep them 'intact' throughout the cycles?

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1 hour ago, Foxbat said:

Great story and your designs both show and evoke such inspiration!  Thank you!

Thanks!

5 hours ago, superstrijder15 said:

My main question is: Why don't they just strap these guys into a sounding rocket going to 71km and thus keep them 'intact' throughout the cycles?

Perhaps because Wernher gets really space sick? Guess we'll have to find out, because that's exactly what I'm going to do. (Not suborbital, actually, I'm going to send everybody to one of the stations and keep them there. Especially nice that we can now have kerbals earn experience without returning to Kerbin.)

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6 hours ago, Cydonian Monk said:

Perhaps because Wernher gets really space sick? Guess we'll have to find out, because that's exactly what I'm going to do. (Not suborbital, actually, I'm going to send everybody to one of the stations and keep them there. Especially nice that we can now have kerbals earn experience without returning to Kerbin.)

given the probability of kraken attacks, you might want to split them between multiple stations?

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On 2/4/2017 at 10:26 PM, Garibaldi2257 said:

given the probability of kraken attacks, you might want to split them between multiple stations?

That's very smart.

But...

Given the probability of [they-who-will-not-be-named] attacks, couldn't it also be argued that perhaps all essential personnel should be put in one location?

The logic here is that situation increases the OP's motivation for defending said "essential personnel" from said "attacks"-- by any means necessary (likely involving terms like ".cfg editing" and "FUNCTION keys").

Just a thought.

(But actually... I kinda dig the idea that Wernher and Gene are "re-cycled" every time the universe resets...  Could be fun either way.)

Looking forward to see what happens next.  Thanks much for keeping us enthralled with this outstanding storyline.

Edited by boccelounge
EDIT: Eh, looking back I meant ".sfs" rather than ".cfg" but you get the point
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Cobalt Blue

And finding Wernher was exactly the agenda of the next council meeting, a meeting Jonbald had called rather suddenly. According to Munlin, both Gene and Wernher had been located and transferred to the monastery at Sky's Reach. They were both quite comfortable, but the monks would prefer to keep their cloister to themselves. And so Jonbald announced his intention to fly the Cobalt out to retrieve them as soon as possible. 

They all agreed, adjourned the meeting, and agreed to reconvene once all six were back at the space center. And then they would decide what to do with Gene and Wernher.

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Jonbald wasted no time. He pulled up and banked left just as the Cobalt X-5C cleared the runway, pushing his new bird for all it was worth. A quick climb to twenty kilometers and in no time at all he had the little jet humming along at three times the speed of sound. Such velocity made short work of the flight to, and soon he was clear of the East Continent and burning hard over the ocean. Heading West-NorthWest.  

It felt good to be out again. Dancing above the clouds, wings alight with the plasma of excited air. Jonbald had always preferred the flying bits to the administrative parts of the agency. Sitting in a chair, writing his launch scripts, tweaking results from the comms, hiding stuff and things from the greater populace? Boring. Dull. A waste of time. No, he'd trade all of it for a few hours in flight. Not that he could give it up. The responsibility had fallen to him after Albro moved on, and none of the others were ready to take over. 

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Soon the familiar outline of Sky's Reach slipped over the horizon. He throttled back, dipped the craft down and started to descend for his landing approach. It was always rough at Sky's Reach, Baikerbanour as the locals had taken to calling it. None of them had ever seen fit to build a runway at such a remote site, forcing any aircraft to test its mettle with a field landing. It was something he had considered when he gifted the Cobalt with much heavier landing gear. 

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Jonbald circled the launch site. He spotted a small vehicle on the eastern side of the old vertical assembly building. That had to be his party. 

A soft touchdown just south of the complex and the Cobalt proved its worth. He let the aircraft roll towards them, bumping and shaking across the imperfect terrain. Once close enough the figures were easy to see: Kirny, a monk of the same order as Munlin and Archibald; Gene, his fair hair bright in the morning sun; and Wernher, glasses and all. 

It had been years, decades even, since he had last seen Kirny. He wasn't the most talkative chap, and spent most of his days on a different continent that Jonbald. From the looks of things he was now the Abbot of Sky's Reach, wearing the customary Abbot's poncho. Quite the promotion from the once silent librarian. 

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"Kirny. Good to see you again."

"Happy to have you here. Though we do wish you were visiting under better circumstances."

"Better circumstances? Curious. I'm not sure things could be any better." He smiled and turned to face the others. "And who do we have here?"

"Ah, yes. Our guests. May I present Gene Kerman, a recent graduate with a specialization in aerospace engineering."

"Engineering?" Jonbald smiled at Gene and shook his hand. "Interesting."

"Yes sir, that's why I stuck around."

"And here, we have Wernher von Kerman the Thirtieth, a recognized expert in rocketry, and something of a celebrity in the Westlands."

Wernher smiled and extended his hand to meet Jonbald's. "Ja, liquid rockets specifically. Getting them to fly und nicht go, uhm, Boom. Ja?"

Jonbald chuckled. "One should hope. Very well, gentlekerbs, we have an offer to discuss. If you would be so kind as to join me in my aircraft...."

"With all due respect, sir, we were both dragged here somewhat against our will. Our hosts have been kind, gracious even, but so far not a word as to why we were pulled from our homes, our lives, and brought here. So before I climb into another metal deathtrap, I think we deserve to know what this is all about. Sir."

"Very well Gene, you do have a point." Jonbald's smile went crooked for a moment. It was rare for someone to catch him off guard, though he should have expected such directness from one of the Genes. "Tell me, did you ever look up at the stars? Wonder if you could reach up and touch them? Perhaps pluck the moons from their appointed rounds?" They both smiled and nodded. 

"Of course you did, you're kerbals. What if I told you it was possible? That we can go" Jonbald waved his arm skyward "up there and change the very shape of the heavens? It's true, I promise you. Kerbals can go to space. Kerbals will go to space. And I'm here to offer it to you. Space. All of it."

"So tell me, how would you like to be astronauts?"

--


The Award

The Manganese module arrived at The Mün shortly after Jonbald left for Sky's Reach. Its short capture burn set up the rendezvous for one orbit later. 

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The Boss and her crew had been waiting in Mission Control ever since. If everything went according to plan this would be her last shift as Flight Director. It was a tough job, scheduling everything, shepherding her flock, but a rewarding one. It was different than being the chief, the big boss, calling the shots here in the trenches. Much faster paced. As an administrator she had time to think over decisions. Here? Here you lived by instinct and muscle memory. 

And you had to work to keep your instincts right. 

The tanks on the Manganese 3 were running more than a bit dry as it completed the final rendezvous burn. Following that the flight computer was switched off and control of the new module and the Iron shuttle were handed over to the remote operators at Pequoni 2. 

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The first order of business was to separate the Iron from the Manganese. While they could attach the ship to the station as it was assembled, doing so would force them to juggle ships when they needed the Iron. More work now meant less work later, so they just bit down and pushed through. 

Once free, the Iron was allowed to drift. They moved the Manganese module around, twisting, tumbling, lining it up for its final docking. There was only one node that made any sense, at the zenith of the station, above the solar arrays. This would place the new MOLE lab directly opposite the existing lab, proximity future scientists would hopefully appreciate.

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With that done, the Iron 2 was moved in to dock at the end of one of the Sulphur shuttles. Unlikely they'd need to use the older Sulphur again; in lieu of a space garage making it a more permanent part of the station was the only option. 

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The crew wasted no time in unpacking the new kit. Elkin in particular was quite eager to dig into the new science experiments. Not the cryogenic one or the power tools, mind you, but the important one. The big one. Making ice cream in orbit. Sure, he'd get around to those other experiments sooner or later, but Ice Cream? They'd gone YEARS without that most important of snacks.

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Meanwhile, the flight operations crews back at KSC were slowly trickling out of Mission Control on their way to the snack room. Nothing special for this, since all they'd really done today was baby-sit a computer, but snacks were snacks. (And the endless talk from Elkin about ice cream this and ice cream that had made most of them a bit hungry.) 

The Boss was just wrapping up her duties when Orsby, the World's First Representative, burst through the door. As usual he had a stack of plaques and checks in hand. A larger stack than usual.

"Let me guess? The recent accomplishments of our space program have attracted contributions from numerous organizations, and we have started constructing our first station at The Mün. Right?"

"No ma'am. We delivered that one some time back. I'm here today to recognize the recent accomplishments of your space program. You have attracted the attention of numerous organizations, and we would like to reward you for these feats."

"Okay, okay. So if it's not The Mün, then what have we done this time? First ice cream in orbit?"

"Wrong agin. I'm here to recognize the following: First craft to escape the orbit of Laythe. First fly by of Vall. First docking at..."

Rosuki grabbed the plaques from Orsby. Fourteen of them, and almost all of them for.... No, it couldn't be. She stared at them in disbelief.  

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Orsby continued. "First docking at Vall. Commencement of construction of the first station at Vall. First EVA at Vall. First entry into suborbital spaceflight at Vall. And finally, first landing at Vall. Among a few others."

So they had made it. Macfred and his crew _had_ survived. All these years and finally, proof. Proof. Except... Why hadn't the crew contacted her? Or anyone? Had they landed on Laythe yet? Yes, of course they had. They had to if they wanted to use the lander on Vall. Were they all ok? What sights had they seen? Oh, she couldn't wait to call them up, to congratulate them, to beg them for stories. For answers. Her mind raced. At first she was relieved, but that fleeting moment brought by this nugget of truth was short lived, replaced by confusion and questions. 

One question in particular.

"How?"

"They climb into a rocket, strap into the seat, and wait until the screaming stops. I thought every kerbal understood the basics of...."

"No, no, no, no, I understand how kerbals get to space. How do you know this? How do you know my crew landed on Vall?"

He smiled. "We have our ways."

"So I hear. How? How do you know they landed at Vall if they're not on the network?"

"Who said they're not on the network?"

She met Orsby's dumb smile with a blank stare. Instinctively she reached down to her console, pushed a few buttons, and brought the map up on the Big Board. "There." She zoomed in to Jool, shifted the view between Laythe and Vall. "No contacts."

"Perhaps you should discuss this matter with Jonbald. I apologize, but there are other matters I must attend to. We do hope you enjoy the awards we've presented today, and look forward to the continued successes of your space program. Orsby smiled, a smile that was somehow deeper than his usual one, bowed, and then slipped out of sight before Rosuki could respond. Typical. 

It still didn't answer the question. How did they know? The ship had to be on the network. Some network. Could Sieta's old satellites could pick them up? Why weren't they relaying data back to the space center? Was it being filtered? She had been there the day Jonbald brought the network back online, in the tracking center, and she didn't remember him doing anything special. Although, now that she thought about it he had been working on the dishes long before she arrived. At least the first time. The second time she had just let him work his magic all on his own.

She tried to call Jonbald on the radio. No answer. A quick check with the air traffic controllers in the tower revealed he had called in a deviation to his flight plan. Seems he needed to pick something up from his old base at the North Pole and would be out of communication range for the next several hours. What convenient timing.

Ok, so she'd have to get her own answers, find her crew without Jonbald's help. And there was only one way to do that: look at the raw data from the dishes. She was across the space center and through the doors of the tracking station in record time. It was quiet in there, as always, just the whirring of fans and the gurgling of the fish bowl in the corner. Aside form the goldfish the only other living creature present was the radio operator, a new kerbal by the name of Hercas. 

When Rosuki burst through the door Hercas was "busy" putting a golf ball around the floor. He quickly hid the club, kicked his overturned cup out of the middle of the floor, and nearly slipped and fell on the golf ball when he saw that The Boss was in the room. He was probably hoping his slacking had gone unnoticed. 

"Yes! Hello! Uh.... Good to see you here! Wasn't expecting visitors, to be honest."

"I need you to check something for me."

"Oh, uh, ok." He balanced his putter in the corner and sat down in his chair. "What can I help you with?"

"We're missing some spacecraft. We know they're there, but they don't show up on the map and they're not on the network. I want to check if the system is broken or if there's something blocking them."

"I don't need to check. They're being filtered out."

"Explain."

"Well, early on we were seeing false contacts. Noise. Lot of noise, asteroids mostly, with an occasional fast burst and whatnot. All of the noise was making it difficult for you folks to work with the new launches, so Jonbald had us install this device." He pointed to a nondescript black box perched atop his terminal. Three wires ran into it, one for each of the dishes, one wire ran into the system. "Every now and then he gives us an update for it, so we crack it open and move some pieces around."

"So it hides contacts?"

"Yes ma'am."

"What would happen if we disconnect it?"

"You'll start to see ghosts again, and the background noise will go up."

"Do it."

Hercas turned the system off and stood up. He fumbled around in a drawer for a moment to find some connectors and a splitter. Solution in hand he twisted the cables loose of the filter box, attached them to the splitter, and then sat back down. He looked back at Rosuki for a moment, hand dangling from the system's main switch. She nodded, he grimaced, and then pushed the switch back up. The lights in the room flickered, the system whirred back to life, and the map view appeared on Hercas' monitor.

A green line flickered to life, a line connecting their position on Kerbin with the Neon satellite in keostationary orbit far overhead. Soon another line joined the first, then two more, then many, many more. Soon the sky was full of lines; green ones, red ones, blue ones. All the colors. Soon The Mün was enveloped, followed by Minmus. Even the other four moons and that Milbas thing. She reached over Hercas' shoulder and pulled the map view out to the system level. Soon a line flickered out to one of the Argon satellites above Duna's orbit. Then another, this time to the one near Eve. Then Eve itself. And Duna. And Dres.

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And then Jool lit up. Scandium. Calcium. Potassium. All the elements. 

And there it was, orbiting Laythe. The Jumble of Parts. The quick burst of telemetry data they received from it showed no kerbals on board. Data, though. Lots and lots of science data. Samples from Laythe; its atmosphere, its oceans, its sands. Rosuki's hands shot up and she cheered, years of worry dropped away in an instant. She grabbed Hercas' hands and danced around the room, the radio operator visibly shocked by her sudden exuberant burst. Realizing the awkwardness she stopped, turned back to the console and started searching again.

"Ok, now we need to find our lost kerbals." They had to be somewhere. Vall, obviously, but near as she could tell they just weren't on the network. Hopefully that meant they were in a secluded spot on the surface, temporarily out of range of the short-range communications relays orbiting the cold moon. The Jumble was still connected though, and they would undoubtedly check in with it again before leaving the system. 

So the only option was the leave a message. What do you say to a crew that's been gone for so many years, cut off from everyone at Kerbin? Was it their fault? Her fault? Was there any point in assigning blame now? No, best to just go about things as usual, follow the procedures. She set up the console, pulled the microphone towards her, and hit the transmit button.

"Kerbin calling Jumble of Parts. We show you on the network, reading your telemetry five by five. Please respond, same frequency. Message repeats. Kerbin calling Jumble of Parts...." She repeated her message again, resisting the urge to include a long 'welcome back' message. It was hard to say what shape they were in, or if they were all still alive. Anything could have gone wrong, best not to make assumptions. She repeated her simple message a third time, dropped in that most final of "Over"s and released the transmission key. All they could do now was wait.

And wait they did. Several minutes later a light blinked. A return receipt from the Jumble of Parts, and automated response to indicate it had received a transmission. Good. Soon the message indicator would start propagating through their ships, hopefully reaching the waiting eye of one of the crew. Hercas wheeled back to his station, nudging Rosuki out of the way. He flipped a few switches, reset a few knobs, then turned to face her.

"Now what?"

"Now? Now we wait." She wondered how long it would take. Not long, surely. Macfred had always been punctual about his checkins, something engrained into him as a young radio operator. She looked at the radio operator. This kid could be the next Macfred, if she wanted it. Strap him in a capsule and send him to orbit. They needed more astronauts, new astronauts, so why not? She didn't even need to run it past the Council first. This was still her space program, not the Council's.

Her mind drifted back to The Council. To Jonbald. What was he up to? She glanced at the filter box, now sitting unoccupied atop the console. Filtering had been Jonbald's job in the past. Filtering and programing and running reports on his fellow kerbals. Why was he still doing it? This was supposed to be an open space program, no secrets. So what was this business they'd just stumbled into?
 
"Jonbald."

The radiokerb looked up, confused. "Ma'am?"

"Jonbald. Find him. I don't care how. He's out there, and he's hiding something. I need to talk to him. Now."

--


Into The Unknown

Hours had passed and Gene and Wernher had both agreed to Jonbald's plan. They said their goodbyes to the monks, gathered their things, and set out. 

It was a good plan, Jonbald thought. A nice plan. The Plan. Rather similar to what they'd been doing for at least four decades now. A proven plan. Just with a small twist or two at the start. A little something he'd learned from one of the Bobs. A secret. A way to get a leg up, or so he thought. 

And they'd need every advantage for what he had in mind. 

And so they set out for the North. Into the wild, leaving behind everything they'd ever known. A great adventure, lived several machs at a time.

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Before long the horizon turned pale. Wide open fields of green were replaced by endless hills of white. And then endlessly flat stretches of ice. 

They were almost there. 

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Jonbald brought the Cobalt down gently onto the ice, landing just beyond the edge of the frozen hills. He only vaguely knew where he was going, having homed in on a very old transmitter. An old flag, still broadcasting its message, well hidden from the usual chatter. 

He hadn't been able to spot their target from the sky, but from the ground it was plainly visible. The Cobalt rolled to a halt at the base of a gulley, the low sun casting long shadows across its walls. So Bob was telling the truth. It really was here. Hopefully it still worked. 

His guests poked their heads into the cockpit to look around. Both were taking turns looking around through the top of the canopy, bumping occasionally into Jonbald as he sung the Cobalt to sleep. Gene was the first to ask if they had arrived. 

"Not yet, but we're close. Our target is just up that hill. It's rather cold outside, so we'd best wear our environment suits. There's a pair waiting for each of you in the back cabin."

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The hike up the hill was longer than it had looked, nearly a full kilometer. All of it uphill, all of it through the snow, all of it just like their grandparents had claimed. Hopefully the walk back from school would not also be uphill. 

"What is it?"

Jonbald was a bit surprised to hear a voice again. The trek had been silent after the first hundred meters or so, all three of them out of breath and out of shape. Even Jonbald, with all that he'd seen, couldn't help but be humbled by the sight before them. Proof. Evidence. Solid truth. If only it worked.

Gene and Wernher were waiting.

“That, my good kerbal, is what we're here to find out. Gentlekerbs, welcome to the Unknown.”

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--

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Edited by Cydonian Monk
They're their there. I blame my word processor for leading me astray.
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6 hours ago, Angel-125 said:

Is this the first time anyone found the saucer? Neat! :)

A riddle, wrapped in a mystery, surrounded by a enigma strudel. 

1 hour ago, KAL 9000 said:

Why didn't CommNet get a link to Edge of Infinity?

Who says it didn't? Not what The Boss was looking for just then. :wink: 

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  • 2 weeks later...

So much for that plan of being "back to regular posts."

This month (and really this year) has been weird so far. Firstly, I've had lots of other things taking my time. Jury duty this week, which altered my schedule not just during the early week, but on Sunday as I needed to actually sleep for once. My railroad friends have all reemerged from wherever they've been hiding for the last few years (KSP is not my primary hobby, after all), so that's been taking some of my time on weekends (and will continue to do so). Watching shows such as The Expanse and keeping up with WVU basketball has also cut into about five to six hours of my time per week. And there's other generally time-consuming life things that don't need detailed here.

So my schedule is kind of over-booked.

 

And then there's me. I've been battling allergies, colds, and a flu or three since late last year. The schizo Houston weather hasn't helped. Worse: sometime in January something screwed up my eyes; either a virus, trauma, or just severe old age (38...... I'm already 8 years past mandatory retirement age). And it looks like they'll get to stay screwed up since my eye doc sees nothing mechanically wrong with them (no detached retinas at least).

If any of you have floaters you'll know what I'm seeing - looking at the bright sky or backlit surfaces causes me to see a stringy web swimming around in my vision. They've been there my entire adult life, but whatever happened last month caused them to get worse and added a slightly larger, rather nicely round new one to my good eye. Typically if I can maintain my gaze in one direction they're not too bad. The brain filters them out.

After a full day of staring at three large, backlit PC monitors the last thing I want to do is come home and do more of the same. Or have my eyes dart around a screen causing the webs to swim. As a result it's been about a month since I turned my home PC on for any protracted length of time. 

 

There is some good news in all this bleak Februariness. I've got the legwork done for most of the next two to three posts, and should have a full post ready Sunday. There are a few screenshots I need to take to finish off what I consider to be the next "chapter". And then there's a large chunk of prose that will take up about two posts, and might have two or three screenshots max. I've got the "flow" of the text worked out, and in some cases have written the first drafts.

Hopefully once all of that is posted I'll have carved out a time when I can get back to actually playing KSP. Time is the key, that most precious of resources. If only we had more of it. 

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I have floaters....they can be VERY annoying at times. Most of the time, i don't really see them, but then, sometimes, i'll think i see a spider crawling up my wall, and i'll look, and there's nothing. It's always out of the corner of the same eye, in the same position. Other than that, i only ever notice them when i'm staring at a white, or similarly brightly colored screen. I've gotten used to them.

Anyway, i have some idea of your issue, and you have my sympathies.

Coincidentally, I recently put in for vacation time from work, and it was approved, and it starts on sunday...i know what one of the first things i'll be doing is..

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Infinite Departures

(Many days earlier...)

20170102_ksp0207_sulphur.jpg 


The Edge of Infinity was abuzz this morning, playing host to all manner of chaos and commotion. The crew of the Jumble was busy preparing to leave for Vall, trading their stories of Laythe for supplies and fuel. Meanwhile Val, Jeb and their crews were debating a return to Kerbin. Bob had discovered some new state of matter and some new property of the universe while experimenting with a sliver of Exorem, and he needed Kerbin to test his results at scale. Their debate was to stay or to go, and was reaching comical levels of inanity.

And yet those two events were nothing compared to the real source of chaos. Something was troubling The Forgotten, and all morning Thomlock had seen them hustling about, heard them grumbling on their radios, and generally witnessed them being busier than bees. Their conversations were impossible to follow one-side at a time, so Thomlock grabbed Burvin and pried loose some details. 

"Our ship at Dres missed its check-in again. Crew of asteroid miners, should be filling the last of our Kerbin-bound tankers."

"You guys run blind, though, right? Sometimes go munths or years without contact?"

Burvin nodded. "It's not uncommon for a crew to miss one or two windows, but these guys have been silent for too long now. We're more than a bit worried. Not that there's a thing we can do about it; a direct transfer to Dres isn't possible for another eight years, and we'd get there twelve or thirteen years from now. If something's wrong, then something's wrong.

"And of course we're trying to see you folks off, and helping as much as we can. Meanwhile the Legend himself, Maclie Kerman, is bringing the Jool Jester in to dock, arriving some time after you guys leave.  He's almost as much flight time as you."

"Well...."

"And he was awake for most of it."

They both chuckled; Thomlock still gave him a dirty look. 

"He's got a mostly-full tanker with him. Maclie and his crew have been out in an eccentric orbit, slowly using Tylo and the moons for gravity captures. They arrived at Jool about the same time as you, but we need the fuel."

"For what?"

"Going back to Kerbin. Or Dres. That's the real debate this morning. We could use the fuel to drop down to Kerbin right now, or we could drop even further and set up a Dres transfer. Very expensive, and if the refinery at Dres isn't working, we'd be stuck there. As you know there aren't many of us left, and we keep losing agents at Kerbin. Some time back the order was given to regroup at the Mün, to vote on a new course of action. Some of us are concerned that if we rendezvous at the Mün we may not have enough fuel to send a ship to Dres. 

"Besides, we kerbals tend to go a bit weird when away from home for so long. You should know that."

He smiled at that. "You implying something there kid?"

"Maybe. Anyway, the Jester holds eight to eleven, and we were planning to hitch Val's Lakewethingy ship to it. That'll give us twenty two seats, more than enough for the eight of them and eight of us. And there's another point of debate - do we allow you four to tag along with us? It's always better to travel in larger numbers."

"Hmm. We'll see. I'll have to talk it over with the crew first, but I wouldn't mind having a bit more legroom. It's no fun to be crammed into something the size of the Sulphur for several years. When are you kids looking to shove off?"

"Not sure yet. Another hundred, hundred fifty days, maybe. The longer we wait the quicker we get there, thanks to some weird physics. The Jester has enough oomph for us to go almost anywhere. Big sucker, designed as a tug. Big ugly tug. Let us know what you decide. If you'd prefer wait you're welcome to what fuel and food we don't need. And to the station, of course."

"Yeah, thanks. We'll see. Good talking with you kid."

"Same. Have fun on Vall."

Thomlock finished up his morning routine and made his way back to the Sulphur. It was the last time he was likely to have a good cup of koffee for several munths, and in something approaching full gravity at that. He was just placing the mug into the mess hall's sink when Agake walked past, arms full of science equipment. 

"This is the last of it. Macfred says there's no rush, but we're all packed up."

"Fine, fine." He motioned towards the door. "Lead the way."

They made their way to the first ladder, just outside of the mess. Agake handed half of her gear to Thomlock and started climbing. Up, up and away. Away from the welcoming centripetal force and into the spinning nothingness of microgravity. The koffee was sloshing around weirdly in his stomach by the time they reached the station's core, and he started to question his breakfast choices. Macfred drifted out from their ship to greet them, and Thomlock could only answer with a burp.

Shortly afterwards they were free of the Infinity, and drifting back towards their jumbled mess of a station.

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Getting back to the Jumble was not straight-forward but not too costly. They kicked the Sulphur 5 into a higher orbit, made the needed plane change, and then dropped back down to rendezvous with the station. Aside from some of the smaller antennas having shut themselves off it was in exactly the same condition as when they left.

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Glextrix brought the ship in slowly and docked opposite the Sulphur 3.

There was a fair bit to take care of at the Jumble of Parts. Most of the work was internal, shuffling science data around, making sure they had what they would need for the Vall landing, but there were a few external tasks to attend to as well. After some discussion it was agreed they would take the second Sulphur with them, using it as a tug to raise / lower orbit at Vall. This would be needed to conserve fuel for the landing. 

After a small amount of juggling the Sulphur 3 was docked up behind the Sulphur 5.

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Next there was a bit of housekeeping to attend to. There was no reason to drag all of the extra RTGs out to Vall, so Macfred went EVA and started extracting them from the hull. This was a slow process, as for some reason he could only carry three at a time, but he had them all mounted on the station before the Jumble slipped into Laythe's shadow.

20170102_ksp0239_sulphur.jpg 

Thomlock cornered him as he was coming back into the station.

"Ok kid, so what's your take on these Forgotten kerbs?"

"They seem genuine enough."

"Hmm. They don't come across as a bit strange? 'Let's all go live in space like a big happy family' type of strange?"

"No stranger than you."

"Good point." He helped Macfred store his helmet before continuing. "It just seems so fake to me."

"How so?"

"Look at it. Free fuel, free ships, free parts. From where? They exist outside of Kerbin's support. Outside of anyone's control. And they can't even explain how. None of them even know where that station came from. 'It was here when we got here' and so forth. Ok, but how did it get _here_? No answer. Instead they're all worried about black holes and other impossible to measure things when they're sitting in a giant piece of magic."

"And that's not the end of it. did you hear there's another ship of them coming in? The Jool Jester?"

"Maclie's ship? The first ship to visit Jool?"

"One and the same. Seems he's been here in the system for almost a year now, just lurking around, waiting on us to make a move. They've got a ship missing at Dres, and a ship that could supposedly go rescue them, but instead they're just milling about here, waiting for us. I don't like it."

"You don't like much."

"Hey, that's not true. Anyway, the whole lot of them are going back to Kerbin and have invited us to tag along. Wanted me to pass the word on to the crew. We could dock one of the Sulphurs up with their ship, hitch a ride back to Kerbin, just how up like lost heroes walking out of the shadows. Or something. Seems fishy, and after that Hallock kid, I'm not sure."

"Think Jeb's in on it?"

Thomlock shook his head. "I'm not even sure there _is_ an 'it', but I doubt it. Jeb just seems to be along for the trip. I figure he just wants to go home, like the rest of us. Either way it's an offer. It'd be more comfortable than strapping ourselves to one of the Potassiums and riding back in this dump."

"True, but we'll worry about that later. Right now we need to get to Vall."

They finished stashing the EVA suit into the airlock and made their way back to the Sulphur. Once everything was squared away they undocked, pushed both Sulphurs back form the station, and moved a safe distance away before bringing the main engines online.

They had one stop to make before heading to Vall: the two Potassium tugs. The sooner they burned for them the better. The two Ks were in basically the same orbit as the Jumble, but had fallen behind them slightly. And so their first burn was to climb into a high enough orbit that the Potassiums would catch up. 

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One orbit later and there they were. They left just as they slipped into Kerbin's terminator, and so they arrived just the same. The initial rendezvous was in the light, the final docking was in the dark. This was just a welfare check on the two big tugs, making sure they were both still fully intact and were still powered up. At some point in the last several munths both of the large tugs had shut off their communications, so Macfred was a bit concerned. As it turned out whatever glitch had affected the Jumble of Parts also hit the Potassiums, their antennas now retracted and disabled. At this range it was possible to send a remote wake-up command, if that failed another EVA would be needed.

They allowed the Sulphur's lights to pass over the hull of the two ships, looking for impacts or flaws. Everything looked good from the outside, and once the antennas were working again the ship's data read-outs were still green. With the K's accounted for, the next burn kicked them free from Laythe's embrace.

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And they were on their way.

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Next Stop: Vall.

 

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Edited by Cydonian Monk
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