'Kontakt' - A KSP Novel

NISSKEPCSIM · April 4, 2017

@kraden yeah... I was thinking about adding a new space agency to the plot, mostly because I was getting off track using FMRS and StageRecovery. But then, of couse, the plot had a rethink, and it was left on the cutting room floor. But I thought I should use the name at least once in this story, because I liked it so much. :cool: (quotes not working on my tablet, so I have to mention you instead)

Edited April 4, 2017 by NISSKEPCSIM

NISSKEPCSIM · April 10, 2017

A little teaser for an upcoming craft:

NISSKEPCSIM · April 10, 2017

I installed the [REDACTED] mod. (Redacted for Spoiler reasons) Let's just say it was heavy on parts and memory. Fifty attempts to launch a rocket, forty-nine crash logs in my KSP folder. Took about five hours, since it take my game about eight minutes to load. So yeah, I got sidetracked from writing a new chapter that was supposed to be uploaded today. But I'll finish it tommorow. And this rocket wasn't even the main launch! It was just an unmanned test to see if had had enough fuel to complete it's intended mission, [REDACTED].

Edited April 10, 2017 by NISSKEPCSIM

NISSKEPCSIM · April 11, 2017

Chapter 4-C.

Solar Orbit.

Year 1, Day 154, 11:23 AM GMT.

Leake slowly munched on her protein bar. Because the mission was projected to last up to two years, the KSA could not afford such frivolities as meals in sealed boxes - they had to use the space provided. The bar tasted like a mix of nuts and fruit. Artificial flavouring - the bars were just that - protein bars. Simple, brownish-red crunchy bars which were packed full of vitamins, calories, and other necessities for staying healthy - and most importantly - alive - for a long-duration space mission.

"So," continued Deswin, prodding at his water bottle with a small straw, floating upside-down in the cabin. Well, at least, upside-down compared to Leake - there is no 'up' in space. "KBC News came up to Gene with a large sum of money for an interview with one of us - not that much compared to the cost of the KSC extension - I'm still amazed at how fast those construction contractors put it together - but still enough for Gene to put the proposal to us."

"KBC News, you say?" asked Leake. "Yep," replied Deswin. "The Kerbin Broadcasting Corporation - only broadcasting to western countries due to limited satellite cover. But everyone knows the real reason - the UTPKA's icy ties with the KSSR. But at last they're getting friendly together in the past few weeks." "So Jaysef announced the existence of the Mun and Kerbin objects last night, didn't he?" piped in Clauena.

"He certainly did," replied Leake. "I was manning the Comms station when the message came in over the amplified airwaves." "Why did you have the frequency set to civilian radio stations instead of CAPCOM?" inquired Deswin. "I had both CAPCOM and KBC Radio 1 on the Comms simultaneously," replied Leake defensively. "What's with the sudden attitude?" said Deswin.

"It's just prograde!" called Jebediah from inside the Comms cubicle. "Very funny Jeb!" called back Clauena, looking at both Leake and Deswin inquisitively. "I don't know how he finds those kinds of jokes funny," she muttered. "I heard that!" "Shut up Jeb!" "Don't you talk to your commander like that," said Jeb mockingly. "Uh, Jeb," replied Leake. "You're mocking yourself." "Oh - oops!" he said, sliding open the door to the Comms station and entering the combined lab-habitat module. "Leake," he said, "It's your turn for free Comms time."

"Okay," she replied, grabbing hold of one of the interior handrails and pulling herself towards the door. She floated gracefully towards it, like a fish in water. Of all the things she had experienced as a kerbonaut, simply floating around in space was her favourite activity. She slowly glided through the door and into the Comms cubicle, majestically smacking her forehead against the headset floating in front of a huge console situated behind a large porthole. "Ow," she groaned. "So, what's the news..." started Jeb, before Leake slid the door shut. She slipped the headset onto her mop of curly black hair, and strapped herself into the seat. She took a quick glance at the stars. They shone, bright as day, with not a flicker, not a twinkle to be seen. She flicked one of the switches on the console, and the large LCD screen in the middle of it lit up.

It displayed a menu of recently visited frequencies. They included the frequencies for the families of each kerbonaut aboard the Ares-1, along with the KBC News frequency, and an emergency 'Red Phone' direct link to the President of the UTPKA via a specialized frequency that would connect to the White House's video-communications system. Leake used the arrow keys embedded in the console to select 'Tune new frequency.' She turned the tuner. Static crackled across the headset as she searched for the correct signal. She honed in on a steady 'beep... beep... beep...' that resonated quietly across every frequency. Finally, the sound of beeps spiked at a certain frequency, and Leake perfected the signal until she turned on the headset's microphone. She spoke into it in Russian.

"Yevpatoria Deep-Space Communications Station, come in Yevpatoria. This is Agent 22, repeat, this is Agent 22."

"Copy that Agent 22, this is Yevpatoria, we are receiving you loud and we're receiving you clear," came the reply.

"Copy that. Are there any messages waiting for me?"

"Affirmative. One message. Playing it now."

"Recorded on Year 1, Day 152 by Kyril Kerman, head of the Kommunist Committee for State Security.

Agent 22, as you know, you were scheduled for an extraction within three months. However, because the KSA selected you for a two-year long mission to Duna, this is no longer possible. So you are no longer an agent. All ties between you and the KSSR and KCSS have been severed - you are no longer a KSSR citizen. Your family and friends now acknowledge that they had never seen you before. You are now a permanent citizen of the UTPKA - you'd better get used to flying space missions and air-force prototype test aircraft. Your access to Yevpatoria and other Deep Space Communications Stations, both ground-based and satellites, shall be restricted by Day 160. This shall be the last time you hear a native Russian speak for another two years, maybe more. Enjoy your little space-trip, 'Agent 22.' There's nothing waiting for you back home.

End of recording. Return address Moscow, KSSR, 103073."

"Do you require anything else, Agent 22?"

Leake swallowed, before replying: "No, that will be all, Yevpatoria."

"Copy that." The frequency became a cloud of static once again, presumably as the KCSS Comms relay satellite shut itself down until further notice, in order to prevent Leake from communicating to the KSSR again. She suddenly felt more lonely than she had ever been, even than during the Eve missions - one-person missions designed simply to put somebody into orbit for a few hours - where you lost signal for countless minutes due to an incomplete communications network coverage. She heard faint laughter through the door.

Clauena laughing at one of Jeb's jokes:

UTPKA Territory.

Day 157, 05:46 PM.

Gene was giving a tour of the extended KSC to the ambassadors of Switzerland, Kritan, France, Italy, and Germany. "Here," he said, approaching the R&D complex, "Is where all of our rocket systems are developed. This is the home of many great projects - the NERVA, the F-1, the J-2, the Merkury and Brumbly programs, as well as the all the Artemis program technology - it was all developed here. And over there..." he pointed to three huge roads, which stretched out into the sides of the hills at the Bluerock Peninsula border, which burrowed into the hills and under the ground, huge metal doors blocking the entrance. "... are the escape tunnels. These aren't the only entrances to the bunker that was constructed in the case of emergency - there are entrances on the ground floor of every building on the KSC campus.

"And how do you access the bunker?" inquired the Kritish ambassador.

"There is an emergency override lever built into the wall next to each entrance. You pull it, and the door swings open. As soon as everybody has entered, you pull down on a similar lever inside the chamber, which will close the doors. Then, people shall proceed to the decontamination chambers five by five - there are five chambers. They shall decontaminate the people inside the chamber before they can proceed to the real bunker, going through the airlock. They shall immediately receive pills that shall complete the procedure to remove any radiation from the people inside the bunker. Then, workers and KSC officials shall help guide all of you through the bunker, and out of the mountains west of KSC, where the UTPKA air force shall collect you."

"But I thought that the KSC had become its own country, independent of the UTPKA?" asked the French representative.

"Oh, no," replied Gene. "The KSC is entirely dependant on the UTPKA. This area of land, Bluerock Peninsula, however, in the eyes of the United Kerbin Nations, the UKN, it is recognized as neutral territory - as in, no military activity is allowed on the premises. So we have severed all ties with the military, but the KSC is still very much economically dependant on the UTPKA - if we severed all ties with them, we would lose our source of funding."

"Oh," replied both the Italian and German ambassadors simultaneously.

"Now," said Gene, "If you'll excuse me, Danbo here..." he pointed to his assistant beside him. "... will continue the tour, as I have some important matters to attend to."

Gene rushed off towards down the long road, towards the entrance to the bunker. A large, yellow truck pulled up beside him and rolled down its window. "Need a lift?" asked Walt Kerman, the driver. "Thanks a lot," replied Gene, swinging open the door and climbing inside. The drive to the bunker entrance took about a minute, even with Walt rolling down the road at 70 kilometres per hour! The entrance was surrounded by kerbal of all sizes, each adorned in KSC uniforms or construction overalls. Groups of people were gathered around different parts of the walls of the tunnel, drilling or sealing panels in place, others painting the walls grey with various arrows and warning signs signifying that you were now entering a bunker. Gene pulled down on the manual override lever, and the huge, metal door clunked and clanged as various bolts were thrown out of their resting place. The door swung open, slowly and ominously, as Gene quickly stepped inside it. Various technicians were prodding at computer terminals and other equipment that was built into the walls of the entrance chamber, and an entire wall panel was ripped away, lying on the ground, as an electrician attempted to wire up what looked like a potato to the electrical system.

Wernher Von Kerman was standing in the corner of the room, inspecting one computer terminal for faults. He glanced over, only to see Gene. "Ah, hello Gene," he said, walking towards him. "What a pleasure to see you - I was just about to test out the decontamination procedures for the chambers - care to join me?" "Well, why not. If there is a disaster, I'll be using them anyway," Gene muttered. He entered one metal sliding door, whilst Wernher entered the other. The door shut behind him automatically, and a computerized voice boomed over the speakers.

"Please remove any metal items or objects you may have on you, and place them in the tray to your left."

Gene did so, and placed his watch, his pen, and his glasses into a small tray embedded in the wall of the chamber. It slid into the wall, presumably to be carried into the bunker itself.

"Once you have removed any metal items, please proceed through the entrance to the main bunker."

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," grumbled Gene. The floor of the chamber slid open, and it revealed a water-like liquid, an pool, with an underwater staircase leading underneath the wall and into an exit. The simplest way to decontaminate someone with a substance, is to have the person walk through said substance. Wernher had mentioned it once during the start of the NERVA program, where he proposed that an entire building using submerged decontamination chambers for the NERVA project, where the nuclear engines could be built and tested without any radiation escaping whatsoever. "Well then, here it goes," he said, plunging into the water and quickly swimming through the submerged corridor, and out the other end. The computerized voice told him to stand still inside a circle marked on the floor in red paint, and huge fans, built into the ceiling, dried him. Then the exit doors slid open, and he encountered Wernher waiting for him inside the bunker.

"Where's my watch and my glasses?" asked Gene. "Incinerated," replied Wernher with glee. "What!?" exclaimed Gene. "Now I can't see anything! Those were my glasses you just incinerated!" "Well," replied Wernher, "I was attempting to simulate the full decontamination procedure. The full one would have included the incineration of your current clothes, and the provision of a KSC jumpsuit-uniform..." "And you also incinerated my 10,000 Kerbucks Rolex watch!"

The extended KSC, as of Year 1, Day 157:

Behind the scenes:

Spoiler

You may remember that in Chapter 4-B, I mentioned a certain device, the...

... AN/FRX-114 Discriminator...

Well, this name isn't just made up - I used the 'Joint Electronics Type Designation System' - the JETDS. I found this Wikipedia article helpful in naming the thing: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joint_Electronics_Type_Designation_System

But here's the important part:

First letter: installation

A - Piloted Aircraft
B - Underwater Mobile (submarine)
C - Cryptographic Equipment (NSA use only) (was Air Transportable)
D - Pilotless Carrier (drone, UAV)
F - Fixed Ground
G - General Ground Use
K - Amphibious
M - Ground Mobile
P - Human Portable
S - Water (surface ship)
T - Transportable (ground)
U - General Utility (multi use)
V - Vehicle (ground)
W - Water Surface and Underwater combined
Z - Piloted/Pilotless Airborne vehicles combined

Second letter: type of equipment

A - Invisible Light, Heat Radiation (e.g. infrared)
B - Comsec (NSA use only) (was Pigeon)
C - Carrier (electronic wave or signal)
D - Radiac (Radioactivity Detection, Identification, and Computation)
E - Laser (was NUPAC, Nuclear Protection & Control)
F - Fiber Optics (was Photographic)
G - Telegraph or Teletype
I - Interphone and Public Address
J - Electromechanical or inertial wire covered
K - Telemetering
L - Countermeasures
M - Meteorological
N - Sound in Air
P - Radar
Q - Sonar and Underwater Sound
R - Radio
S - Special or Combination
T - Telephone (Wire)
V - Visual, Visible Light
W - Armament (not otherwise covered)
X - Fax or Television
Y - Data Processing
Z - Communications (NSA use only)

Third letter: purpose

A - Auxiliary Assembly
B - Bombing
C - Communications (two way)
D - Direction Finding, Reconnaissance and Surveillance
E - Ejection and/or Release
G - Fire Control or Searchlight Directing
H - Recording and/or Reproducing
K - Computing
L - no longer used. Was Searchlight Control, now covered by "G".
M - Maintenance or Test
N - Navigation Aid
P - no longer used. Was Reproducing, now covered by "H"
Q - Special or Combination
R - Receiving or Passive Detecting
S - Detecting, Range and Bearing, Search
T - Transmitting
W - Automatic Flight or Remote Control
X - Identification or Recognition
Y - Surveillance (target detecting and tracking) and Control (fire control and/or air control)
Z - Secure (NSA use only)
Model number
Following the three-letter designation, after a dash, is a number, uniquely identifying the equipment. Different variants of the same equipment may be given an additional letter and other suffixes (for example, AN/SPY-1A, AN/SPY-1B, etc.), while entirely new equipment within the same category is given a new number (for example, AN/SPY-3).
Systems

In the JETDS system, complete equipment sets or systems are designated with a sequence of letters and digits prefixed by AN/, then three letters, a hyphen, a number, and (occasionally) some optional letters (AN/AAA-nnn suffixed by (Vn){hardware/software version} or (T){training equipment} . The three letters tell where the equipment is used, what it does and its purpose. For example, the AN/PRC-77 is a Portable Radio used for two way Communications. The numbers for any given type of equipment are assigned sequentially, thus higher numbers indicate more modern systems.

Edited April 12, 2017 by NISSKEPCSIM
Leake isn't Clauena!

NISSKEPCSIM · April 11, 2017

Not as long as the others, but I was - as said above, working on testing out a new spacecraft. Hopefully a new chapter should be uploaded tomorrow - these next two ones will be big, and packed with action and tension - probably much more so than any other chapter in this thread!

EDIT:

Also, the above decontamination scene ~~blatantly ripped off~~ inspired by the Andromeda Strain, by Michael Crichton.

Edited April 12, 2017 by NISSKEPCSIM

NISSKEPCSIM · April 13, 2017

Chapter 5.

Approximately 1 Year Later.

Year 2, Day 147, 09:36 PM.

Jeb stared out of the small porthole. At Duna. A giant, red blob, hanging in among the stars. Clouds swirled and danced above its surface, and an enormous crater stood in the top left corner of the red planet. He could see the ridges and mountain ranges scattered across the surface, and Ike, Duna's rocky moon, peeked out from above the horizon. It was covered in craters from head-to-toe, and some mountains were so high you could see them from the Ares' position in space!

"Ares, this is CAPCOM, GUIDANCE reports Go for DOI, over."

"Copy that, CAPCOM," spoke Clauena into her helmet mic. All of the crew were crammed into the cramped cockpit of the Ares for the Duna Orbital Insertion, the DOI.

"TELEMETRY here, all systems nominal, you are go for DOI."

"EECOM here, everything's looking good, we give you a Go for DOI, over."

"Ares, this is FLIGHT, you have a Go for DOI, repeat, you have a go for DOI. Godspeed, over."

"Copy that, Gene," replied Jeb. "We're cooking, over."

"Uh... copy that, Ares," called back Gene sheepishly. "We have T-minus 1 minute to loss of signal. Re-acquisition T-minus five minutes and counting, over."

"Loss of signal T-minus 30."

"20."

"10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2..."

The constant buzz of chatter from mission control was replaced by crackling static.

"We have plasma blackout," said Leake. Jeb raised an eyebrow.

"What?" she replied. "I'm just trying to sound formal."

"Okay guys," continued Jeb, "We are aligned upon the Retrograde vector, altitude forty-five kilometres and dropping. Our Periapsis height is seventeen kilometres, and we're going to continually roll at a speed of 15 RPM to prevent overheats. If you have any prayers to say, say 'em now, 'cause you're not gonna have to time to say them if this goes south."

Clauena blessed herself and continued to say a silent prayer with her hands clasped together.

"Okay everybody, hold on tight, we're coming in at escape velocity into the lower parts of the atmosphere, and coupled with the roll, it's not gonna be pleasant in here," called Jeb. The four of them nodded in agreement, and stayed silent. Jeb maneuvered the joystick to put the Ares into a controlled roll. The kOS guidance computer was old, and slow at the best of times, but it had helped Kerb land on the Mun back in '69, and it sure as hell wasn't gonna fail now! The LCD screen in his console displayed the Ares' trajectory, with a dotted line showing their projected Apoapsis after the aerobrake maneuver. The grid fins on the outer hull of the Ares clunked as they deployed, keeping the spacecraft aligned upon the Retrograde vector.

Flames lapped over the cockpit's two portholes and main window as the vehicle began to vibrate violently. The altimeter slowly ticked down, an ancient piece of equipment compared to the LCD screens and other modern gadgets inside the cockpit, but it was good at it's job - displaying the ship's altitude.

35 kilometres.

30 kilometres.

29 kilometres.

28... 27.... 26...

Leake was grunting under the force of the aerobrake, and Deswin was holding on to his console for dear life. Clauena, however was simply sitting quietly in her seat, praying all the way. Jeb glanced at the LCD screen. Their Apoapsis was within projected levels, 700 kilometres, and they were rising in altitude. After a few more passes, their Apoapsis would hopefully come down to about 60 kilometres or thereabouts, where only a small burn would be needed to circularise.

"Our altitude is at forty-kilometres, a safe height to stop the roll. I'm gonna deploy solar panels once we reach fifty. Re-acquisition T-minus one minute," called Jeb.

"Re-acquisition T-minus 30 seconds."

"20."

"10."

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1..."

"Ares-1, Ares-1, this is FLIGHT, do you copy?!" Gene was shouting over the radio frantically.

"Yes, Gene, Yes! We read you loud and clear - we are in orbit!"

Wild cheering erupted from the crowd at mission control, heard over the Comms.

"CAPCOM? We'll need three more -- CAPCOM! For Kraken's sake, Gene, stop cheering and listen! Yes, yes, we're fine, don't worry. I'm just saying that we'll need three more passes to bring down our Apoapsis, over."

Jeb smiled. They were the first Kerbals to ever visit Duna. The first Kerbals. EVER!

The Ares approaching Duna:

UTPKA Territory.

Day 148, 10:19 AM.

Deswin kept his eyes on the altimeter and his hands on the joystick and throttle lever. The Duna lander was descending fast. He glanced through his singular porthole. A vast expanse of red hill, ridges, and mountains lay below, and approaching rapidly. The final flames of re-entry dissipated harmlessly across the outer hull. He felt himself being slowly pushed up out of his seat as his speed grew higher.

"Ares, this is FLIGHT, all stations report Go for landing, repeat, we are Go for landing," called Gene over the radio.

"100 metres per seconds. 20 kilometres altitude," boomed CAPCOM.

He lifted his right hand off the throttle and rested it on the flip-switch marked 'Stage.' He heard the whooshing of wind as it buffeted the lander, and watched the altimeter drop.

"150 metres per second. 15 kilometres altitude."

He checked the parachute status on the LCD screen. It displayed: Safe to deploy? Safe.

"Primary parachute status Green, you are Go for 'chute deployment at 10 km, over," piped in TELEMETRY.

"Copy that, TELEMETRY," replied Deswin.

"Ares, you are at 10 kilometres, speed 170 metres per second, deploy primary parachutes, over."

"Copy that."

Deswin flipped open the safety cover for the 'Stage' button, and flicked the bright red switch. He watched through the porthole how two enormous, 30-metres wide, orange and white striped parachutes billowed open above the lander can, the air rushing in and around them as drag slowed the craft down.

"Ares, can we have a confirmation on primary 'chute deployment, over?" asked Gene.

"Copy that, FLIGHT, we have a successful primary parachute deployment, over," replied Deswin.

"Okay Ares, TELEMETRY here, you are at 5 kilometres, your speed has slowed to 16 metres per second, deploy secondary parachutes at 1 kilometre, over."

"Copy that, TELEMETRY, altitude 3 kilometres and dropping, you'd better get ready to pop the champagne, over," called back Deswin.

The red soil approaching ominously through the porthole, riddled with craters and surrounded by vast canyons that defied belief. Huge boulders were scattered across the landscape, and, as the lander slowly descended, its shadow was cast over the surface. As the altimeter reached 1 kilometre, Deswin once again flicked the 'Stage' switch, and four, smaller, 15-metre wide secondary parachutes, this time with blue and white stripes, flung themselves from their radially attached casings and billowed open above the large 30-metre wide orange and white primary parachutes. Deswin was pushed into his padded seat with the force of the 3G deceleration as the lander's speed slowed to 5 metres per second. Though 3Gs was not much to any experienced pilot back home, spending a full-blown year in space had taken it's toll.

"CAPCOM, secondary chutes have deployed, I'm at 5 metres per second, altitude 25 metres and dropping, over," he called.

"Copy that, Ares. You should see Gene right now. He absolutely beaming - Wernher's got a smile from ear to ear!"

"Good to know," replied Deswin. He smiled. The radio came alive with chatter as the final few metres ticked down.

"50 metres... 40... 30... 20... 10... 5..." The tension in mission control was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Deswin eagerly watched his flight instruments.

"And.... touchdown! We have touchdown! Repeat, the Beagle has landed!" shouted Deswin into his helmet mic. A cacophony of cheers and shouts and roars erupted from mission control, and, had Deswin been there, he would have seen the crowds of people that weren't mission controllers burst in through the doors in enormous flocks, everybody hugging and laughing and cheering and some even crying with joy. It was quite a sight to behold, and it was a miracle no one was trampled on...

"Okay, Deswin, it's time for the EVA and lidium collection. This needs to be quick and fast - the transfer window for Kerbin opens up in three days, and, as a precaution, we want you ready to ascend with more than two days until the window."

"Copy that, CAPCOM," called back Deswin. He pulled on his suit gloves and secured his helmet, which was loosely on his head during the descent. He grabbed his EVA pack from a small locker next to him, and strapped it to his back. He connected the two umbilicals on the pack to the back of his helmet, which included two small, circular sockets, and turned a lever on the pack, which began the flow of oxygen.

"CAPCOM, I've got the EVA pack on, do I have a Go for depressurisation, over?"

"Ares this is EECOM, we report all systems nominal, over."

"This is the EVA officer, everything is looking good, I say Go for EVA, over."

"Copy that, EECOM and EVA," replied Deswin. "I'm about to depressurise the lander can, standby, over."

"Copy that, Ares."

Deswin leaned over the console and reached his hand down the back of it. He felt for a circular handle, and grunted as he struggled to turn it clockwise. The atmosphere was slowly removed from the interior and transferred to the oxygen tanks. The pressure was violently released, and his suit bloated up. "FLIGHT, this is Ares," he said, "Depressurisation is successful, am I Go for EVA, over?"

"Copy that, Ares, you are Go for Extra Vehicular Activity."

Deswin punched in a code into the hatch, and it slowly swung open, revealing the beautiful Dunatian landscape. The patch of ground he had landed in was riddled with only a few caves and craters, and, as he descended the last few rungs of the ladder, and planted his foot in the soil, his footprint was deep, with multiple tread marks from his heavy Mun boots. The soil lightly churned up around his foot with each step.

"It's one small step for a Kerbal --" he began, but was interrupted when he elegantly tripped over a stone and majestically fell face first into the red soil. "Ow -- one giant faceplant for Kerbalkind," he grumbled. Multiple giggles were heard over the radio. "That is not going down as the first words said on Duna!" called Deswin angrily.

"Sorry, buddy," replied Gene, in a futile attempt to stifle his laughter. "And we have the video footage too!"

Deswin on the surface, after collecting a sample of the abundant resource known as 'lidium' from the surface with a drill tool:

Low Duna Orbit.

Day 151, 08:56 AM.

"T-minus 30 seconds to cut-off," boomed mission control over the radio. All the crew of the Ares, Deswin included, were sitting upright in their seats in the cockpit of the Ares. The lander had been ditched to serve as a satellite for communications to other vessels that might arrive at Duna. The Ares was just completing a two-minute long burn to put the spacecraft on a return trajectory towards Kerbin. The one-fifth-of-a-G acceleration of the 'Poodle' engine was nothing compared to the force of the aerobrake maneuver performed only a few days earlier, but it was still enough to make things fall awkwardly. In fact, one of Leake's many 'C7 Aerospace Space Pens' was slowly floating towards the transfer hatch between the cockpit and the shared lab/habitat module.

"Clauena, what's our engine status?" asked Jeb.

"Engine status nominal, we've got full thrust of 250 kilonewtons, fuel consumption approximately 6 units of liquid hydrogen, 8 units of liquid oxygen per second."

"How's our trajectory looking?" inquired Leake.

"We've got 20 seconds to cut-off, we're already on escape trajectory, we're just completing the final burn to put us on the Kerbin encounter."

"Cutoff T-minus 10 seconds," called CAPCOM.

"9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1..."

Jeb gently lowered the throttle until the last kilonewton of thrust disappeared.

"Ares, this is TELEMETRY, your trajectory looks good, over."

Jeb leaned forward and spoke into the microphone: "Copy that, TELEMETRY, over and out."

He looked around at the other kerbonauts. "So," he said. "It's time to settle in for the long trip - 367 days until the Kerbin encounter."

---

Approximately 349 Days Later.

Year 3, Day 76, 03:19 AM.

Jeb was jolted awake by the violent lurch the ship made. Alarms were blaring, and, as his eyelids flickered open, he could see the hull itself buckling inwards. Deswin was pulling himself through the tunnel into the cockpit, and Leake was attempting to shake Cluena awake.

"What in the name of Kraken is going on here!?" he shouted unstrapping himself from his sleeping berth and pulling himself using the handrails towards the cockpit. Only when he glanced through the porthole did he understand the true nature of the situation. Shards of rock and metal were speeding over, past, and towards the Ares, and slivers of the outer hull were floating around in the open vacuum.

"Deswin! What's our status?!" called Jeb as he entered the cockpit and strapped into the commander's seat. Deswin was already in the navigator's seat.

"We've got a cloud of meteoroids headed this way, we've been pelted by some of them already - the collisions have created a cloud of debris that's getting impacted by other meteoroids and sent flying towards us!" he replied.

"Leake! Clauena! Get in here!" barked Jeb.

"Clauena isn't waking up," called back Leake.

"Kraken damn it!" shouted Jeb, unstrapping himself from his seat and pulling himself back into the lab/habitat module. "Clauena! Wake up!" he called, approaching Leake. As he approached, he glanced through the porthole. What he saw horrified him. An enormous chunk of debris, presumably one of the science instrument from the service bay, was approaching them at high speed, and was only a few hundred metres away.

"Put your helmets on!" he screamed. "Leake, get your ass in the cockpit, I'll get Clauena!"

"But sir -" she started.

"I hate to pull rank, but do as I say!" he barked.

Leake pulled herself towards the tunnel and slipped through it with amazing speed. She could sense that something had spooked the commander. She'd never seen him this frantic before. Jeb grabbed Clauena, and shook her by the shoulders. "Damn it, wake up, for Kraken's sake!" She didn't respond. She just lay there, in her sleeping berth, snoring away. "Oh, to hell with it," Jeb shouted, grabbing her by the shoulders, yanking her out of her berth, and throwing her in the direction of the cockpit access tunnel.

"Leake!" he called, "Grab Clauena - I'm getting the lidium!"

He turned and fumbled with a latch on the door of a locker embedded in the wall. The walls of the ship creaked and groaned, and continued to slowly buckle as more and more shards of meteoroid impacted the outer hull. He grabbed the rectangular metal box inside, and chucked it in the direction of the cockpit.

"Get the lidium!" he shouted, frantically attempting to secure his helmet. A pair of gloved hands extended from the tunnel, grabbing hold of the lidium and dragging it back into the cockpit. But, just as Jeb started to pull himself forward towards the tunnel, still fumbling with his helmet, the hull of the lab/habitat module exploded as an enormous chunk of debris tore apart the Ares and let the vacuum engulf the spacecraft. Jeb's last thought before everything went black was: "Wha.."

To Be Continued...

Edited April 13, 2017 by NISSKEPCSIM

NISSKEPCSIM · April 13, 2017

And nobody mention the improbability of something as small as shards of an asteroid or comet - known as meteoroids - rendezvousing with something as small as a spacecraft and then impacting it - it's a good cliffhanger to leave Kontakt on for a week or two so that I can try and get back working on my proper novel - I'm currently on page 197, and have been since February, since, because a lot of Kontakt is pictures, it has made me lazy, because now my writing has much less detail - so I'm going to give Kontakt a break for a while, and try and get back in the zone for my proper novel.

kraden · April 13, 2017

What is your "proper" novel about?

Angelo Kerman · April 13, 2017

Say, the odds of a meteor- oh. :wink:

NISSKEPCSIM · April 14, 2017

11 hours ago, kraden said:

What is your "proper" novel about?

Just a sci-fi novel set in the far future (5097), where a megalomaniac attempts to take over the (known) galaxy with an army of robotic... aliens? I hardly think you could call them that when you live in a society where three extraterrestrial species co-exist - but anyway, back to the description - and it's up to a group of people who you wouldn't ordinarily give a second glance, to save the galaxy. (Taken from the summary I've scribbled on the back of the book - it's actually three 120-page copy books stuck together with glue and scotch tape)

EDIT: It's kind of like Guardians of the Galaxy in book form, but with Star Trek-like aliens.

Edited April 14, 2017 by NISSKEPCSIM

NISSKEPCSIM · May 1, 2017

Probably another update at the end of this week - I'm currently transferring all the craft files from my old career to a new snadbox, specifically for conducting missions for this and other fanfics.

NISSKEPCSIM · May 27, 2017

Hold onto your butts...

It's coming back...

June 9th, 2017.

Edited June 7, 2017 by NISSKEPCSIM

NISSKEPCSIM · June 8, 2017

Chapter 5-B.

Year 3, Day 76, 08:00 AM GMT.

Gene rushed hurriedly down the corridor of the Hexagon, the military headquarters of the UTPKA. The corridor was bland, with grey walls, a grey ceiling, and a grey floor. However, Gene was not interested in any of this. A bead of sweat ran down his forehead as he approached the two huge security doors, flawlessly sliding his VIP pass across the car scanner, and pressing his thumb up to the fingerprint scanner. The device beeped, and the two huge doors swung open with an ominous hiss, revealing the enormous military council room. Gene quickly pulled up a chair and sat down at huge, circular table, around which dozens of military brass and various world leaders sat.

"Gene!" blurted Jaysef Kerman, the president of the UTPKA, who was standing in front of the huge projector screen that dominated the wall of the council room. "I'm glad you could make it." He glanced around the room, to ensure that everybody was sitting in their seats. "Good. Let's begin. The council is now in session." The projector screen switched to display an image of the 'Ares-1' spacecraft, heavily damaged, with only the capsule segment fully intact, the science lab and habitat modules shredded into various different chunks, and the ship's propulsion segment missing entirely.

"Only five hours ago, 'Ares-1,' the expedition we launched over two years ago, to retrieve at special mineral, lidium, from the surface of Duna, to return it to Kerbin for use in the laboratory experiments that shall help us determine the nature of the extraterrestrial lifeforms that have abandoned two strange craft in our solar system, was struck by a meteoroid shower, which failed to be detected by our tracking stations across the globe.

"The spacecraft was, as you can see..." he pointed to the image on screen, "... was heavily damaged, with the structural adapter that connected the propulsion segment to the habitat module having been torn to shreds by the incoming meteor storm. However, the propulsion segment remains intact, and is currently adrift 500 metres from the remaining spacecraft. The joint habitat-science lab module was torn apart by an enormous chunk of space debris, leaving the re-entry capsule the only habitable component of the spacecraft to remain intact. Jebediah Kerman was killed during the crew's frantic attempt to escape the turmoil of the meteoroid shower.

Image result for dr strangelove war room

"And, though Jebediah Kerman, a true hero of the UTPKA, was killed..." Jaysef allowed a moment of silence to be held, with the entire assembly mourning the death of Jebediah kerman, one of the best, if the not best pilot of the Kerbal Space Agency. "... Deswin, Leake, and Clauena Kerman all made it out alive, and are currently sheltering in the descent capsule of the 'Ares-1' spacecraft." "What do we do now?" interrupted one of the attendees. "Well," continued Jaysef, "The lidium is currently safe and sound, contained within a shielded container, within the re-entry capsule of 'Ares-1.' However, there is one, very big, very important, and absolutely irreversible problem with the situation.

"The crew only have 12 days' worth of supplies left." "And what does that have to do with anything?" interrupted the same attendee. Jaysef angrily replied: "What does that have to do with anything!? What does that have to do with anything!? I'll tell you what that has to do with anything - the crew will arrive back at Kerbin in 17 days - which means that every single one of the crew members of 'Ares-1' shall starve and die before they return here!

"And, even if they do survive, their ablator has been heavily damaged, which means that their capsule will be incapable of surviving the rigours of re-entry - and it just so happens that their Kerbin Periapsis is now at 36 kilometres, thanks to the force of the impacts of the debris! Which, in turn, means that they shall starve to death, and then burn up to a crisp in Kerbin's lower atmosphere, and they shall never be seen again, and the lidium shall never be recovered, and we'll be set back from making first kontakt by at least another decade!" Jaysef proceeded to take a few deep breaths, calming himself down.

"And so, our crew of three kerbonauts and one precious and extremely important container of lidium are stranded, drifting, only 500 metres away from what could be their salvation - the propulsion segment of their spacecraft - which is slowly leaking fuel. The crew cannot spacewalk to it, to retrieve the emergency supplies which are aboard, as the EVA suits were all inside the habitat-science lab module - which they can't get to, because it's torn to shreds, and completely open to the vacuum of space - which they can't access without their EVA suits.

"So, after years of planning, after years of successful mission execution, our crew is condemned to sad and lonely death, on a trajectory that shall essentially cremate them in the lower atmosphere - with no way of escape. We have a very short launch window, about two days from now, to launch a rescue mission - and there's no way that we can prepare any kind of mission i that kind of time span." Jaysef fell silent, hanging in head in sorrow.

"Excuse me, sir" piped in a thick Russian accent. It was the Soviet Ambassador, Gerlan Kerman. "But we have a mission ready to launch in two days' time. It's an 'N-1' Mun rocket, to launch a crew of two on a lunar orbit and return mission to test the new 'Soyuz 7K-LOK' hardware to be used for Munar landing and return missions. However, the spacecraft theoretically has the required DeltaV to perform a rendezvous and docking in interplanetary space. And, the descent module can, theoretically, can hold a crew of five - if some of the interior equipment is transferred to the orbital module."

Jaysef's eyes widened as he raised his head. "When can you launch?!" he exclaimed. "Our launch date is scheduled for next week, but the rocket and spacecraft are already on the pad undergoing pre-flight tests. But, we could move back the launch date to a few days from now, and launch a crewed rescue mission."

"Does it have to be crewed?"

"Yes. That particular spacecraft is not fitted with autonomous systems, and it shall take too long to install the necessary systems to allow remote control."

Jaysef sighed. "It's good enough. Let's rescue us some Kerbals!"

To Be Continued...

Edited June 20, 2017 by NISSKEPCSIM

kraden · June 9, 2017

Yaaay!

NISSKEPCSIM · June 19, 2017

1 minute ago, NISSKEPCSIM said:

Made a piece of art to use as one of the three clickable banners in my signature, this one, obviously, to advertise 'Kontakt.'

As I could not finish the next chapter in time to upload it yesterday, as was the plan, I'll just leave you with this ^.

NISSKEPCSIM · July 5, 2017

Don't worry! The next chapter is going up within the next day or two, but let me warn you...

The end is nigh!!!

(For this story, I mean.)

Edited July 5, 2017 by NISSKEPCSIM

kerbinorbiter · July 5, 2017

hmmm im thinking Mutualy assured Destruction...

Edited July 5, 2017 by kerbinorbiter

NISSKEPCSIM · July 5, 2017

21 hours ago, kerbinorbiter said:

hmmm im thinking Mutualy assured Destruction...

I have one thing to say here...

Nyet!

That was a really fast reply though.

Edited July 6, 2017 by NISSKEPCSIM

kraden · July 6, 2017

I figured, you seem to have shifted interests KSP-wise. I appreciate your intent to wrap this up though, it has been quite a fun story to read.

NISSKEPCSIM · July 6, 2017

33 minutes ago, kraden said:

I figured, you seem to have shifted interests KSP-wise. I appreciate your intent to wrap this up though, it has been quite a fun story to read.

Yeah, I kind of don't like writing this type of story anymore. I prefer my most recent one, that I'm updating more frequently, because it actually ties into the missions I'm flying. This one, though - I started it without a clear ending in mind, and I had to go through multiple re-writes before I decided on which one worked best. But, alas, this story is coming to an end, probably within the next two weeks or so.

Edited July 6, 2017 by NISSKEPCSIM

NISSKEPCSIM · July 6, 2017

Chapter 6.

Year 3, Day 77, 04:38 AM GMT.

Bob sighed. It had been a long time since he donned the orange-and-white spacesuit of the Kerbal Space Agency. 11 years, in fact. At the age of 33, he was hardly in peak physical condition, but he was capable of spaceflight, if only for a short duration. As soon as the announcement was made at the latest UTPKA military council meeting that the KSSR could launch a manned rescue mission, he had immediately volunteered for the flight. He had been one of the most esteemed and experienced flight engineers of the KSA, even going so far as to be the second Kerbal on the Mun, as the flight engineer of the Artemis-4 mission, way back in Year 1, Day 90. Wow. Had it really been 11 years?

He had flown to the KSSR mere hours before on a trans-Kerblantic Koncorde flight. He had immediately taken a government car with diplomatic plates to Baikerbanur Cosmodrome, where the N-1 rescue flight, codenamed 'Thunderbird,' was taking off from. He slowly pulled on his orange suit and carefully secured his helmet. He grabbed his oxygen pack and attached the umbilical cord leading from it into the rear of his helmet, and picked it up, unlocking the door and carrying it with him.

He was surprised to see Valentina Kerman waiting for him on the other side of the door. "Why Valentina," he smiled, "What a pleasant surprise. I haven't seen you in years. Where have you been?" Valentina smiled back at him and replied: "Remember Soy-juice-LOK-3? The first manned flight of the N1-L3 Mun rocket and the LOK variant of the Soy-juice?" "Yeah..." replied Bob cautiously. The mission had been planned to be the first Russian landing on the Mun. But it was cancelled for... undisclosed reasons.

"Well, I just so happened to be appointed the commander of that mission way back 9 years ago..." continued Val, "...and, during training for the mission, I experienced a catastrophic accident. Me and Werscheld, the two sole kerbonauts of the mission, were doing zero-G training in one of the space program-owned K-45C-B jet aircraft, and, during the nosedive, while we were experiencing zero-gravity, an extreme gust of wind from a nearby hurricane, which we were never alerted of, sent the plane into a catastrophic stall, sending it into a deadly tumble down. The pilot managed to pull out of the dive and save the stall, but Werscheld died and two of the three flight crew aboard were heavily injured. I, myself, received a broken wrist and a sprained ankle from the incident.

"The Soy-juice-LOK-3 flight was cancelled, in thanks to the fact that one of its two pilots was killed, and the other, me, who was supposed to descend in the LK to the Munar surface and return, had suffered multiple minor injuries that were not resolved until over one year later. Only two months after the incident, the N1-L3, LK, and Soy-juice LOK programs were cancelled, due to both budget cuts, setback in crew training, and..." She cleared her throat and spoke rather quickly, "...Ahem... several...launch failure of the N-1 rocket. A couple of months later I received a letter from the director of the space program, informing me that I was 'to present my formal resignation to the director within the next week.' They wanted to erase all trace that there had ever been a soviet Munar program. Destroying the rockets and scrapping the parts, hiding the engines in secure bunkers scattered across the continent.

"But whispers got out. Rumors of a Russian Munar program resurfaced. And, eventually, only 2 years ago, the KSSR admitted that they really did have a secret Munar program. What was a surprise to me was when they announced that they had recently re-opened the program only three months before, in an attempt to feed the starving fire that was national pride. As for me? Well, after my forced resignation from the space agency, I was offered a seat on the Politburo, but I declined. I was a kerbonaut, not a politician. And so, I had to find work elsewhere. I started flying for commercial airlines, but their planes weren't to my taste, you know, big, and heavy, with slow controls - I mean, for Pete's sake, you can't even make one of the do a decent loop-the-loop!

"So I started flying chartered flights. And one day, not so long ago, I flew the Soviet Ambassador in the UTPKA, Gerlan Kerman, from the KSSR to Kuba, where another pilot picked him up and dropped him off at the KSC, just a short distance away." Bob was gobsmacked. "They... they forced your resignation!?" "Well..." she sighed, "Life in the KSSR can be cruel sometimes. But we try to make the best of it." She smiled once again. "My God..." began Bob. "You've been flying chartered and commercial airliners for 9 years? I still thought you were a kerbonaut!" Val simply smiled, and said: "We all have to move on, I guess. And speaking of moving on, let's get moving, I hear those kerbonauts on the 'Ares-1' need our help, and fast." "Right," said Bob, and he followed her down the long corridor leading to the sprawling campus of Baikerbanur, where a bus was waiting to take them to the launch gantry, where they would board their rocket and blast off to rescue the stranded crew of 'Ares-1'... hopefully.

04:49 AM GMT.

Bob strapped himself into the co-pilot's seat. The digital clock buried in the face of the console in front of him read 'T-minus 37 minutes, 09 seconds.' Val did the same, strapping herself into the seat beside his, intended for the pilot. A voice tainted by a thick Russian accent boomed over the radio: "Thunderbird-1, this is Control. Launch is T-minus 36 minutes. We have completed the fueling of the kerolox fuels into the lower stages, the upper stages are fueling now. Good luck, and Krakenspeed."

Val slotted the umbilical leading from the rear of her helmet into the slot beside the console, which lead to the main oxygen tanks in the capsule. At 1.875 metres in diameter, the capsule was hardly the most luxurious or spacious of craft, but it contained enough living space inside the orbital module to supports a total crew of five for up to 50 days. Most of the ascent would be automated, using a new guidance system named 'kOS,' developed by the UTPKA specifically to serve as a lightweight, versatile, and compact launch computer aboard their new series of crewed rockets and stations. This new 'kOS' guidance system was required as most of the manual control consoles and systems had been removed, in order to be able to hold up to five individuals, rather than the regular three.

"So," began Val, "Picking up from where we left off, it seems that you were the polar opposite of me when it came to politics." "What do you mean?" asked Bob. "Well," continued Val, "Remember that I mentioned that I was offered a seat on the Politburo, but I declined, as politics was not in my blood. It seems that you were very much as skilled a politician as you were a kerbonaut. Landed on the Mun. And then landed yourself a place as Vice President within a year after that. I mean, come on!

"You retired from the space program after 7 years of respected service, and then almost instantly become the governor of the state of Kouston. Within 12 months, you slowly move up the political ladder, making your way to the previous President's scientific and space travel advisor. Then you became Vice President shortly after Jaysef Kerman won the election. You're also a very polite and easy man to get along with, and so is Jaysef. I've seen much worse politicians." She smiled. "But never one that retired from the role of kerbonaut to the role of Vice President. You've left your mark on not one, but two slots in the history books. And you'll soon have three, considering the importance of of the mission we are about to undertake." Bob blushed. "I guess you could say that." he replied.

05:26 AM GMT.

A great rumbling began the violently shake the rocket as the 30 engines of the first stage slowly throttled up, with zero hour approaching fast.

"T-minus 30 seconds to launch! All ground crew clear the blast zone! Repeat, all ground crew clear the blast zone!"

Bob felt the vibrations increase in intensity as he crossed his fingers that the launch would go well, with all systems functioning perfectly.*

"T-minus 20 seconds! Guidance is internal!"

"T-minus 15 seconds, all the second stage tanks now pressurised!"

"T-minus 10, main engine start!"

Bob's eardrums squealed and squirmed, begging for mercy as the roar of the 30 enormous first stage engines deafened both him and his companion, and the countdown was barely audible.

"T-minus 5... 4... 3... 2...1..."

Four enormous red launch gantry towers swung away from the body of the rocket violently as the vehicle slowly rose into the heavens. The plume of flame and smoke shrouded the launch site for many kilometres, and the sound of the launch could be heard from hundreds of kilometres away. The immense force of the takeoff had Bob squashed into his seat, the high G-forces preventing him from moving. He glaced at the G-meter. It displayed that they were now both experiencing over 5 Gs.

"Thunderbird has cleared the tower, repeat, Thunderbird had cleared the tower," boomed the voice of the Mission Controller over the flight radio. "We are now at 100 metres per second, altitude 2 kilometres, are we clear to engage roll program and gravity turn?" called Val over her microphone. "Copy that, Thunderbird," replied the Controller, "You are clear for gravity turn."

"Copy that," replied Bob. He flipped the switch cover concealing the button that began the second stage of the kOS computer's launch programming, and punched the button. The enormous rocket began to slowly roll to the right, and, after the roll was complete, it slowly began to pitch 10 degrees to the east.

"Roll program complete," called Bob. "Copy that, Thunderbird, we are receiving telemetry, you are now beginning your gravity turn, your altitude is 5 kilometres, speed is 200 metres per second, over." "Copy that, Control," replied Val. The seconds slowly ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity, as the unwieldy rocket slowly rose into the sky, its 30 first stage engine producing over 4 meganewtons of combined thrust.

"Apoapsis is at 15 kilometres, our altitude is 10 kilometres, current pitch is 20 degrees, over," announced Bob, his eyes fixated upon the few instruments on the extremely sparse control panel in front of him.

"Copy that, Thunderbird, you're lookin' good. Pitch now at 30 degrees, Apoapsis 25 kilometres, your current altitude is now 15 kilometres, time to Apoapsis is T-minus 20 seconds, 1st stage burnout in 30 seconds."

"Copy."

"T-minus 15 seconds to first stage burnout, altitude is 20 kilometres, Apoapsis is at 30 kilometres, pitch is at 35 degrees and increasing, over."

"Copy that, Control." Bob rested his finger upon the switch that would fire the decoupler and retro motors of the enormous first stage, and ignite the 8 engines of the second stage.

"Burnout T-minus 5... 4... 3... 2... 1..."

The 30 huge engines of the gargantuan first stage burned through their last drop of liquid RP-1 kerosene and liquid oxygen with an immense hiss, and Bob mashed the staging button... nothing happened.

"Uh. Control! Our decoupler is not staging!" Bob and Val were beginning to panic now.

"Thunderbird, our telemetry confirms that, there's been a decoupler failure..."

"No kidding, Sherlock..." mumbled Bob absent-mindedly.

"... your current altitude is 25 kilometres, Apoapsis is 35 kilometres, time to Apoapsis is T-minus 35 seconds and counting!"

"Abort the mission! We need to abort!" screamed Bob.

"No, no! If we abort, we condemn those aboard Ares-1 to a slow, harsh, and painful death. No! We must continue!"

"Then what are we going to do!?" screamed Bob in a fit of both intense fright and deep anger.

"Time to Apoapsis is now T-minus 20 seconds and counting!"

"ANY SUGGESTIONS!?" barked Bob.

"We're working on it!" came the rushed reply from Mission Control, with dozens of inaudible voices and whispers conversing among each other being hear at the other end of the microphone. Bb was terrified. They were all going to die...

To be continued...

*Any and all injury or death resulting from a malfunctioning N1-L3 rocket or any derivatives are hereby not covered by the warranty and the Kerbolyov life insurance plan. Thank you for your patience. Because here at OBK-1, we only provide the safest and most flawless launch services to our willing ~~victims~~ customers.

Edited July 17, 2017 by NISSKEPCSIM

NISSKEPCSIM · July 17, 2017

Chapter 6-B.

Year 3, Day 77, 05:27 AM GMT.

"The engines! Fire the second stage engines!" shouted Bob frantically.

"What!?" exclaimed Val. "That'll overheat the decoupler and it will..."

"EXPLODE!" interrupted Bon. "It will explode, and the second stage can continue ascent!"

"Apoapsis T-minus 15 seconds and counting!"

"Mission control, can you give me a Go/No Go on my strategy?!"

"Copy that Bob... YES, YOU ARE A GO! GO, GO, GO!"

"Ignition!" shouted Bob in glee as he slammed the throttle lever forward and flipped the staging switch. The 8 huge second stage engines of the N-1 Mun rocket slowly melted through the unshielded decoupler connecting them to the enormous first stage. The decoupler began to liquify and change in shape, shifting the entire first stage sideways. Bob could feel the rocket straining to come apart.

"Apoapsis is T-minus 10 seconds, altitude 30 kilometres!" boomed mission control.

Bob and Val crossed their fingers, both hoping that the decoupler would give way to the burning hot plume of flame spouting from the second stage engines before the craft reached its Apoapsis. The decoupler groaned and creaked, slowly beginning to melt away.

"Apoapsis T-minus 5... 4... 3... 2..."

Boom! The decoupler exploded in a shower of shrapnel and flame, and the second stage galloped through the air, now free from the clutches of the first stage, which had helped the rocket ascend thus far. The first stage sailed downwards through the sky, and impacted the lake near the launch site mere minutes later, as the 'Thunderbird-1' spacecraft continued to ascend.

"We have acceleration!" Bob and Val were ecstatic. They had, against all odds, survived the near-failure of their N1-L3 rocket.

"Apoapsis is at 43 kilometres and climbing! Our altitude is now 38 kilometres."

The rocket continued to climb, slowly rising out of the atmosphere. The second stage was jettisoned after four minutes of flight, with the vehicle reaching a stable Low Kerbin Orbit via the third stage.

"So," inquired Bob, "Does that happen often with this kind of rocket?"

Val burst into a fit of laughter, and, amid bouts of giggles, replied, "You should see the track record of this rocket. You know that big crater near the Capital?"

"Yeah..." replied Bob.

"Well," continued Val, "Unlike the protests of the Politburo, who are adamant that is was caused by a meteor impact a few hundred years ago, is was actually an... early prototype of this rocket." After a long pause, she added: "Why did you name this mission 'Thunderbird' anyway?"

"You've never heard of the 'Thunderbirds?'" exclaimed Bob.

"Nope. I've never heard of them."

And that was how, for the first three hours of their 11 day-long journey, Bob Kerman ended up explaining to an old acquaintance of his what in the world the 'Thunderbirds' were.

11 Days Later...

"Okay, all flight controllers, Go/No Go for EVA. VITAL?"

"Go."

"GUIDANCE?"

"Go."

"CONTROL?"

"Go."

"TELECOM?"

"Go."

"EECOM?"

"Go."

"SURGEON?"

"Go."

"FIDO?"

"Go."

"EVA?"

"Go."

"'Ares,' you are Go for EVA, over."

"Copy that, Control," replied Deswin Kerman. The eleven days of wait until the rescue mission arrived had been gruelling. Leake, Clauena, and himself had had to ration the remaining supplies in such a way that they would only be eating one meal, an egg, some powdered milk, and half a potato, per day, as well as having to stay in a cramped capsule for eleven straight days, with no toilet facilities. He slowly swung open the hatch of the capsule of what remained of the 'Ares-1' spacecraft. Leake and Clauena were in their EVA suits behind him, all lined up and ready to exit the hatch. They had to perform a 100-metre spacewalk between the two spacecraft in order to board the 'Thunderbird-1,' as their docking systems were both incompatible and, in the case of the 'Ares,' heavily damaged from the micrometeoroid bombardment.

He released his firm grasp on the ladder, and slowly drifted towards the 'Thunderbird.' What made the EVA worse was that, in order to save enough DeltaV to return to kerbin, the 'Thunderbird' couldn't sow down completely relative to the 'Ares,' and so, the spacecraft was slowly drifting forwards, at a speed of 5 metres per second. Leake and Clauena were quick to follow, also activating their EVA packs and jetting over rather quickly to the orbital module of the 'Thunderbird,' where the airlock was located. Deswin twisted the handle of the hatch, and it swung slowly open. He, Leake, and Clauena slowly floated inside, and he sealed the hatch behind him. He pulled the lever to his left downwards, and the airlock pressurised itself. The trio took off their helmets, and smiled at each other. They were finally back.

NISSKEPCSIM · August 6, 2017

Chapter 7.

UTPKA Territory.

Year 3, Day 91, 07:01 PM GMT.

Wernher Von Kerman sat patiently in his seat, staring at the vast, sprawling control panel in front of him. It stretched all the way around the control room, starting from the door, and going all the way around, past the observation window, and back to the other end of the door. Twelve of Kerbin's greatest scientific mind sat at different sections of the control panel. Through the enormous, reinforced quartz glass observation window in front of him, he could see the portal room.

The portal room was fairly large, with an array of strip lights suspended from the ceiling, and an enormous, tubular structure stood vertically in the centre of the room, behind the glass. Hooked up to the structure, connected by an array of cables and wires, was a large cylinder, on its side, capped by hemispheres. Wires stretched around the body of the cylinder, with a glowing, pulsing blue liquid flowing through them. The radiation symbol printed on the side of the cylinder was bright contrast to the silvers and greys that made up the rest of the portal room.

"T-minus 10 minutes to firing," announced a deep voice over the PA system. "Lidium flow is nominal, reactor operating at 100% efficiency." Wernher glanced at his console once again. He was in control of the portal activation systems, along with Bobfred and Kilny Kerman, who were sitting on either side of him. Beside Kilny sat Agake Kerman, who was operating the reactor cooling systems. At the opposite side of the room sat Thomfred, who was in control of the safety systems, as well as being the CAPCOM to Leake, who was inside the portal room, with an umbilical connected to her helmet, wearing a prototype for an advanced, radiation-shielded EVA suit. Multiple cables ran from a hatch in the wall of the portal room to her EVA pack. Gene Kerman sat at a large console in the middle of the room, which displayed basic information from each console in the room. He was also in control of the PA system. Each console had a microphone mounted on it.

"T-minus 5 minutes to firing," boomed Gene's voice once again. "Copy that," called Agake, "Reactor temperature is within acceptable levels, 273 degrees Centigrade." "It seems my suit is getting a little hot in here," murmured Leake. "Say again?" asked Thomfred, the CAPCOM. "I repeat, my suit temperature feels like it's the same as the reactor, over..." Thomfred glanced at his console. The temperature gauges read 37 degrees. In the yellow area. "You're gonna be fine, over." "Copy."

"T-minus 2 minutes and counting to portal firing, Lidium injectors to launch positions!" "Copy that," chimed Wernher, Bobfred, and Kilny simultaneously. They glanced at each other. "Ready?" asked Wernher. "Ready," replied Bobfred and Kilny. They turned to face their consoles. Each of them fished out a red key from their pockets. They each flipped open a glass cover in their consoles, and inserted the keys into the keyholes. "Three..." began Wernher, "...two...one...turn!" On 'turn,' they each turned their keys. The lights embedded in each of their consoles turned from red to green, as an automatic, computerised voice announced: "Lidium injecting process activated."

Six large, cylindrical objects that looked like oversized syringes rose on mechanical arms, and locked themselves into sections of the enormous, tubular portal. A glowing blue liquid slowly filled the injectors via an array of cables and tubes that were connected to the Lidium injectors. a needle slid out of the end of each of the injectors, and met in the centre of the portal. "T-minus 1 minute and counting to firing," called Gene. "Reactor temperature is at 289 degrees, Lidium flow is nominal, reactor at 100% efficiency." "All safety systems are operational, over." "The room is getting hotter," piped in Leake. Thomfred once again glanced at his console. The suit temperature had risen to 46 degrees. The heart rate monitor displayed that Leake's heart was beating at 113 Beats per minute. 23 beats over the average. "Don't worry, you'll be perfectly fine, over," he replied.

"T-minus 30 seconds and counting..." Lidium slowly flowed through the needles, and met in the middle, forming a large glob. Orange strobe lights flashed as the countdown neared zero. Leake's heart beat had risen to 134 beats per minutes. "T-minus 20 seconds to firing," announced Gene. Wernher, Bobfred, and Kilny once again fished another set of keys out of their pockets, this time selecting a green one. "Three... two... one...turn!" they counted simultaneously, before inserting their keys into a different set of keyholes, each marked 'Injection confirmation.' "T-minus 15...14...13...12...11...10...9..." Wernher had his finger hovering above the 'fire' button, while Thomfred and Agake were hovering their fingers above the 'Abort' and 'Shutdown' buttons respectively.

"...8...7...6...5...4...3..." Sweat flowed rapidly down the brow of each and every Ker-man in the room, with Leake's forehead drenched in sweat as the portal firing countdown neared the final few seconds. "...2...1...0...fire the portal!" Wernher punched the 'fire' button, and a jolt of electricity was sent through each of the cables and tubes that was connected to the Lidium injectors. Electrical sparks streaked through the lidium injectors, and the glob of liquid Lidium which was suspended in the centre of the portal exploded in a shower of blue sparks, convulsing and pulsing, before, finally, it settled down into a simple, flat, circular wormhole. The blue aurora of the portal slowly sun in the shape of a spiral, and stars could be faintly seen through the arms of the portal. It had properties almost reminiscent of water, sloshing about in the tubular structure of the portal, but, rather than splashing everywhere, like regular water, it seemed to be suspended in the portal structure.

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!" Wernher was bursting with joy. "Calm down, Wernher, calm down," said Gene. "We still have to see if the portal actually works." However, Gene couldn't resist a smile from ear-to-ear. "Leake, what's your status?" asked Gene. "I'm extremely happy, as you could imagine, that I'm not dead, but it feels like my suit is made of molten lava in here." Thomfred glanced back at his console. The suit temperature was now at 57 degrees. In the orange. Another 17 degrees, and they would have to abort until the problem was solved.

Agake glanced at her console as well. The reactor temperature was nearing 320 degrees, and the room temperature was already 94 degrees, even with the advanced cooling systems in place. The efficiency of the reactor had also dropped to 93% rather than 100%. Hopefully that wouldn't interfere with the stability of the portal.

"Leake, this is Thomfred you are clear to approach the portal, over." "Copy that," she replied, cautiously taking a few steps forward. She slowly ascended the ramp leading to the portal. "Sir," called Agake, "The reactor is now at 387 degrees and rising. If it exceeds 450, we'll have to abort." "Copy that, Agake," dismissed Gene. Agake noted that the efficiency of the reactor had fallen to 84%. Thomfred glanced at his console to make another assessment of the situation. Leake's suit temperature had risen to 65 degrees. 5 more, and they would have to abort, or at least recall Leake to adjust her suit's cooling systems. Her heartbeat had also risen to 134 beats per minute. As he scanned the console for any other dangerous readings, his eyes fell upon the portal housing display.

The portal was kept in the structural housing by an intense magnetic force provided by the series of 8 extremely rare and powerful Neodymium magnets located along the ring structure. Neodymium was the strongest magnetic material in the world, and the high concentration of it in each of the high-power magnets induced up to 3 Gs of magnetic force upon any magnetic metal, and so a type of non-ferrous titanium was used in the construction of the entire facility in which the portal was now being activated. However, the problem was that the intense electromagnetic field of the temporal fracture portal was disrupting the magnetic force that was keeping the portal inside it's structure.

"Gene," he worriedly called, "The portal's electromagnetic field is disrupting the magnetic housing system. If we keep this going any longer the portal could become unstable and begin to collapse. I suggest we abort immediately!" "That's a negative, Thomfred." replied Gene. "We need to see this through." "Sir, you'd be risking Leake's life! You'd be risking the life of every Kerbal on --" "That's enough!" interrupted Gene. Leake cautiously approached the temporal fracture. "We have to see this through to the end! We --" "Sir," piped in Agake, "The reactor temperature has risen to 400 degrees, efficiency has fallen to 76%. The room temperature has already risen to 113 degrees! If Leake stays in there any longer, she'll die!" The portal convulsed and pulsed violently as Leake took the final few steps towards it. "No! Leake, continue!" "Mr. Gene," interrupted Wernher, "I advise that we abort the mission. It could lead to the loss of Leake's life."

"Damn it, Wernher! We can't! We can't abort! Not when we're this close --" A soft 'pop' sounded as the glowing, spiralling, blue disc that was the portal disappeared from existence. "Uh... guys?" inquired Leake, pointing at where the portal used to be. "It is supposed to do that?" "What the..." exclaimed Wernher. "I can't believe this has happened!" barked Gene. "We get so close, so close to making contact with some form of extraterrestrial life, and the moment we're about to enter the portal, in collapses!?" "Sir..." began Agake, "The reactor's still operational. It seems to be drawing a lot more coolant that normal, and it's temperature is at 430 degrees and rising, but it seems to still be working, even though it's powering... nothing." "Mr. Gene," said Wernher, "All three of our consoles display that the portal is still drawing power from the reactor, and is still open..."

Just then, a flash of blue light blinded the entire control team behind the observation window, shrouding Leake in a cloud of glowing blue smoke. Bolts of what appeared to be azure blue lightning streaked across the ceiling of the portal room, and electrical crackling rang out across the room. As the glowing blue cloud cleared, Wernher noticed that a blue aurora seemed to be lingering straight down the middle of Leake's back. As he turned to look at it from a different angle, he realised that it was a temporal fracture portal. The magnetic safety system that was supposed to hold the portal in place within the tubular structure which stood in the centre of the portal room had evidently failed. He was the only one to anticipate what would happen next, as the entire room watched in horror as Leake's body slowly peeled into two halves, splitting from the middle of her spine - right where the portal had formed. Green blood gushed from each and every one of her internal organs, splattering the walls, floor, ceiling, and glass, as the two halves slowly settled themselves on the floor. It was a horrific, disgusting sight.

Red strobe lights flashed and alarms blared as the reactor core temperature rose over 450 degrees. The temperature of the portal room had risen to 149 degrees, well above the point where a Kerbal would die under the sheer heat alone. The portal which had split Leake's body in half starting phasing in and out of existence, appearing randomly in different areas of the portal room. Flashes of blue lightning streaked across the ceiling of the portal room, and multiple temporal fractures began to open, splitting the reactor clean open. Molten hot Lidium splattered the walls of the portal room, melting holes in the supposedly impenetrable Titanium structure. Each of the 8 high-power Neodymium magnets mounted along the ring structure exploded in a shower of flames, one by one, as sheer pandemonium broke out in the control room.

"Thomfred --" began Gene, before a bolt of the blue lightning blasted its way through the quartz glass separating the portal room from the control room, striking Gene straight through his forehead. He collapsed in his chair, a clean hole cut straight through his head, with his hair singed and green blood slowly trickling from the hole in his head. As Thomfred was about to smash the 'Abort' button in order to completely shut down all of the systems in the portal room, and second bolt of blue lightning smashes through the glass, shattering it to pieces. Wernher cried out in pain as multiple shards of sharp glass embedded themselves in his skin, while the second bolt of lightning pierced straight through Thomfred's shoulder, cutting his right arm clean off. He collapsed, screaming, with green blood soaking those nearest to him, Bobfred and Wernher. Thomfred sobbed uncontrollably as Wernher picked shards of sharp, bloody glass from his fragile green skin.

A blue flame engulfed the entire portal room as the Lidium in the reactor exploded, with the boom ringing in Wernher's ears. Debris from the explosion found itself buried and scattered in various places in the control room, as Wernher helped a whimpering Agake to crawl her way to the exit. Streaks of blue lightning bolted past, the electrical crackling blinding the entire group. Kilny sat, curled up into a ball, under his control console, sobbing, wishing it were all over. Bobfred made a bolt for the exit, only to be engulfed with another one of many rapidly appearing and disappearing temporal fractures, closing with only half of his torso inside, slicing the lower half clean from the rest of his upper body, which was nowhere to be found.

More green blood splattered the room, which was almost unrecognizable with the amount of blood shed within its walls. Temporal fractures of all sizes burst open and closed, with blue sparks showering the room as they did so. The blue lightning continued to streak as Agake made her way to the exit, only to find that, when she opened it, the hallway was engulfed in blue flames, with the same blue lightning streaking past. Wernher realised that there was no hope, and so, to the sound of Thomfred's deafening sobbing, Agake's frustration, and Kilny's incessant praying, he prayed that it would all be over soon. And, sure enough, as his grasp of reality seemed to fade away, his vision dying, all of the sound he could hear around him suddenly - stopped. And all he could see was - white. Neverending, pure, solid, white.

---

Three minutes earlier...

Alnie Kerman slowly pulled back on her joystick as her SR-71 'Angel' approached Kerbin's polar ice cap. On that one faithful night, over three years ago, she had been one of the first Kerbals to discover and explore an anomaly as extensive and advanced as the polar flying saucer. She shivered. It was also the location where she had discovered her own dead body, millions of years old. Some had suggested that it was a clone; Her doppelganger. However, that still wouldn't explain why it was so old. Then, of course, the UTPKA government went public with the whole 'Aliens discovered' thing, and she had become a sort-of miniature celebrity among the Air Force. Of course, fame wasn't her occupation - flying was - so she had been sent on seemingly endless missions to the North Pole ever since.

Whether it was flying a large cargo plane to collect the entire flying saucer and bring it back to the KSC, or whether it was to fly yet another scientific expedition there to determine whether or not there were any other remnants of some ancient alien civilisation still at the North Pole, she had become the go-to pilot for the job. This time, however, she was to simply perform another one of the mission she had most definitely been doing the most of - taking low-altitude photographs of the polar ice cap over an area of a few square kilometres.

As she approached the area where the anomaly once stood, the alarm in her cockpit started blaring, as her altimeter, speed gauge, and compass all started to fail. Each of the needles on the gauges started flailing around wildly, and every single one of the overhead switches that controlled the landing gear, lights, abort mechanisms, brakes, and afterburners all started wildly flashing, and s bolt of blue lightning streaked by her cockpit window.

She watched in awe as bolt of lightning streaked overhead, and azure blue sparks flickered and danced across the sky. The ground seemed to be breaking apart, with blue light streaking across the surface, cracking the ice. What sounded like thunder boomed as blue light exploded in a shower of blue sparks and miniature bolts of lightning, surrounding her aircraft. Chunks of her plane were ripped from the fuselage, imploding into the centre of each of the blue explosions, before the explosion dissipated into thin air, but not before more of these explosions erupted. A blue aurora lingered above and below her aircraft, convulsing and pulsing, growing to consume her aircraft. She watched in terror through her cockpit window as the world around her faded from existence. A blue light engulfed her, and she observed how stars seemed to spin in a spiral pattern around her. The blue light slowly filled into arms of a spiral, with a starry blackness in between.

"Where am I?" she wondered. "Is this what death is like?" What remained of her aircraft slowly fell into the endless abyss below, with debris from the rear of her plane showering her cockpit. However, as suddenly as her journey through this strange, glowing, blue, wormhole-like, endless, starry abyss began, it ended. Her cockpit, along with the countless chunks of debris from what used to be her plane, were spewed out, many hundreds of metres above the polar ice cap. However, the ice cap was completely different. It stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction, and there was an enormous blanket of snow covering the entire area.

As she fell, Alnie noticed a strange object flying towards her at unimaginable speeds. It was solid silver, and the light reflecting off of it blinded her, but yes, it most definitely was - a dish! A large, silver, dish-shaped object, with a small, hemispherical bulge emerging from the top! It was the anomaly she had discovered all those years ago! And it was flying! It was flying towards her at a speed far greater than she had ever seen!

It zoomed past, her, appearing to swerve to avoid her and her falling cockpit. However, an array of falling debris struck the object, and it came crashing to the ground. A shower of snow shrouded Alnie's vision as it smashed into the ground, erupting into flames. A deafening boom sounded as the flames licked her face, the pain worse than she could feel. And, as the ground approached her, she lost consciousness, her grasp of reality slowly fading away, her vision dying, as all of the sound she could hear around her suddenly - stopped. And all she could see was - white. Neverending, pure, solid, white.

---

Munar Orbit.

Willford Kerman patiently sat in the commander's seat of the Mk1-2 command pod. He was sitting in the very seat Deswin Kerman had once sat in all those years ago, when he had discovered the anomaly that kickstarted everything. Right now, the same trusty old lander was undergoing a routine fueling procedure, after Joefred had taken the old bird down for a biome hop and obligatory flag-planting. He flipped a red switch marked 'RADIO,' and listened as the communications systems of the lander crackled to life.

"Willford, this is Alberry, do you copy?" "Alberry, this is Willford, I am receiving you loud and clear, over." "I am requesting permission to perform EVA, over." "Copy that, you are clear for EVA. I think you need a little bit of fresh air after all that time you've spent cooped up in that tiny little lander can, over." Joefred chuckled over the radio, obviously listening in from the enormous main habitat/laboratory module that made up the bulk of the station. The solar telescope mount of the station used a modification of the tiny, cramped lander can used on the Artemis Munar missions, and Alberry had spent all of his free time in there, taking down results and adjusting the mirrors. Only Kraken knows what he was doing.

"Copy that, Willford." And with that, Alberry stepped out of Capricorn Station's main airlock, and floated in the inky blackness, using his EVA ack to maneuver his way to the lander. Willford smiled softly as he watched Alberry's face float past the porthole. "Hey! Stop fooling around and let's fill this tank up." Alberry sighed, and responded: "Okay, okay." She unhooked the umbilical tube from the equipment rack next to the docking port, and floated silently over to the large fuel tank of the Munar lander. She slowly made her way around the rear of the lander, past the engine bell, and picked her way through the surface of the fuel tank to find the connection port. There, buried in the orange insulation of the fuel tank, was a small hatch, obviously where the fuel line was supposed to connect.

"I've found the cap, about to connect the umbilical, over." "Copy that, tell me when you're ready, over." Alberry flipped the cap open, and secured the fuel line in place with a loud 'clang.' "You are clear to begin fueling, over." "Copy that, Alberry." Willford flipped an array of switches, and the fuel from the station's enormous main fuel tank began to flow. He could hear the liquid kerosene and oxygen churning around in their respective pipes, yearning to enter the fuel tank of the Munar lander.

"Alberry, prepare to disconnect the umbilical in 5...4...3...2 --" "Uh, guys?" piped in Joefred over the emergency channel on the radio. "What is it, Joefred?" grumbled Alberry. "You better take a look at this," he replied. "Take a look at wha..." began Alberry, before stopping mid-sentence. "Oh my Kraken! Damn it, Willford, Kerbin's just exploded!" "What the hell are you talking about!?" exclaimed Willford, craning his neck to get a good view of Kerbin.

"What the... holy crap!" Kerbin had been split down the middle, flame shrouding the planet from view. Electrical sparks and blue lightning danced, bolts of lightning streaking from where the explosion had begun. "What the hell have those guys back at KSC done!?" screamed Alberry in terror. Smaller, blue explosions seemed to be sprouting from random areas of the space around Kerbin, growing to the size of small moonlets, before chunks of Kerbin that had been shattered to pieces by the explosion imploded into the centre of each of the blue explosions dissipating into thin air, but not before more of these explosions erupted. The explosions seemed to approach the station, the area in which these explosions erupted seeming to encompass the entirety of Kerbin's SOI. A blue aurora lingered where each explosion had dissipated, convulsing and pulsing, growing to consume anything around them.

"Attention all crew members, this station is now in a state of emergency! All hands to emergency escape pods! I repeat! All hands to emergency escape pods!" The voice of Gusburry, the commander of the station, boomed over the radio system of the station. "Kerbin is no longer habitable! All escape pods head to Laythe! The 5000m/s of DeltaV shall be sufficient! We'll rendezvous there!" The Capricorn Station had recently been equipped with next-generation escape pods, using an advanced ion propulsion system, offering an extremely compact yet efficient, 1-crew package. The pods were also equipped with 3 years worth of standard KSA rations. There were, in total, 6 escape pods on board, all mounted around the central habitat/lab module of the station, for easy access.

A blue explosion erupted near the solar telescope mount, deafening Willford, and ripping the telescope from its mount, tearing the docking hub to shreds. The aurora of blue light left behind slowly grew to encompass the entire station, plunging it inky an inky black void, devoid of any planets, and he observed how stars seemed to spin in a spiral pattern around the station. He watched in terror through the capsule's porthole as the world around him faded from existence. The blue light slowly filled into arms of a spiral, with a starry blackness in between.

---

Joefred huddled in a ball in the corner of the large main habitat/lab module of the Capricorn Munar Orbital Station. Guburry, the commander of the station, was rapidly opening the hatches leading to each of the escape pods. "Joefred, come on, get in here!" he barked, grabbing Joefred by the hand and hauling him over to one of the hatches. Joefred's burst into tears. "Is this really is sir? Is this really the end?" The commander placed his hand on Joefred's shoulder, and comforted him. "Don't worry, Joe. It's not the end. We just have to get in the escape pods."

"But... sir," continued Joefred from behind a wall of tears, "Kerbin... it's gone! We have nowhere to return to! No one... no one to love..." Gusburry was about to say something, but he seemed to not be able to speak. His lips moved, but so sound came out. As he moved to place his other hand around Joefred's waist, and give him a comforting hug, his hand seemed to fade away. It seemed to lose its opacity, and fade away from existence. The rest of his body followed suit, until there was nothing there. Only a faint blue glow surrounded where his body once might have been.

"Nooooo!" sobbed Joefred. "Nooooo! It can't end like this!" He pushed himself off the wall, and curled back into a ball, spinning away in the large centre of the station's core module. He could only pray that it would all be over soon.

---

Willford watched in terror as more of these blue explosions wracked the station, tearing apart the core module from the fuel tank, and ripping the fuel tank itself in half. The deafening boom of these explosions deafened Willford, and the intense blue light had temporarily blinded him. He could faintly see Alberry speeding past the window with his EVA pack before he regained his vision fully. "No!" he barked. "No! This is not how it ends! I shall not die like this!"

He strapped himself into the commander's seat, and flicked the switch marked 'ALL SYSTEMS EMERGENCY ACTIVATE.' The LCD displays in front of him lit up instantly, and the light from them showered him. The navball and other navigation utensils suddenly started to freak out, spinning as though he was rotating at an immense speed, although he was not. He grabbed a spare helmet which was floating around the cabin, strapped it tight onto his head, and rammed the throttle lever forwards.

The docking port that the lander was connected to collapsed under the stress put on it by the engine's thrust, and the lander broke away from the wreckage of the station. He grabbed the joystick with one hand, and maneuvered the lander away from the remnants of a once thriving Capricorn station.

He tried to turn the lander so that it was facing away from the centre of the strange, wormhole-like abyss he and the station were falling into, but it seemed that the RCS thrusters were unresponsive. The reaction wheels had been damaged by the explosions, and the engine wouldn't gimbal because debris was jammed in the base. "Come on, come on, come on!" He yanked on the stick as hard as he could, but the lander still wouldn't turn. He was accelerating into the centre of the abyss.

As the lander sped up, faster and faster, he noticed that the centre of the spiral that was below seemed to expand, revealing a heavily cratered and mountainous environment. It was... the Mun! It was the Mun! He could escape! However, debris from the station slammed into the engine bell, ripping it from the rear, and clogging the flow of fuel. And explosion erupted near the rear of the lander as the clog of fuel ignited, tearing apart the fuel tank.

He braced himself for the impact as large chunks of debris from the station, as well as his capsule, fell through the opening and through the vacuum of space. He watched from his porthole as a strange, disc-shaped object sped by, appearing to swerve to avoid the falling wreckage of the Capricorn space station. The object failed to avoid the remains of the enormous main habitat module, and it came crashing down, the fireball engulfing the capsule.

A immense pain wracked Willford as his capsule sped to a fiery demise, wishing that his life would end before the pain got any worse. And it did. His grasp of reality seemed to fade away, his vision dying, all of the sound he could hear around him suddenly stopping. And all he could see was - white. Neverending, pure, solid, white.

---

Alberry watched in terror as the station plummeted into an endless, blue, starry abyss, the wreckage of Capricorn station slowly exploding, and the lander Willford was in being ripped from its docking port as the engine ignited. He realised he had to do something. If he wanted to live, he had to escape this endless void. How could he do that? His EVA pack.

He rested his hands on the controls of the Manned Maneuvering Unit he was currently wearing, and rammed both throttle levers fully forward. The thrust of the RCS thrusters mounted on the rear of the MMU propelled him forwards, away from the burning wreckage of the station, and towards the enormous opening at the other end whatever space he was in, towards the starry, black sky, and away from the strange opening that the debris from the station was falling into.

His only escape from the hell he was in seemed to be contracting, closing, moving further and further away as he accelerated towards it. But, alas, as the opening closed, and the debris below fell through into whatever their fate may be, he slid through the now-tiny gap that led to his salvation. As he looked down, behind him, he saw that, as he sped through the opening that was rapidly closing, it was collapsing in on itself, a flaming ball of blue light, convulsing and pulsing, and struggling to keep itself stable, among a sky filled with hundreds, if not millions, of identical anomalies, backdropped by a devastated Kerbin, torn into millions of pieces, wracked by explosions, bolts of blue lightning streaking from its centre.

But, he had escaped. He had escaped his fate. He had survived. He had survived the largest catastrophe in Kerbal, if not galactic history. And he was alone. There was no one else. And there would never be anyone else. Because Kerbalkind had perished in the devastating event that was their own creation. And kerbalkind would die... with him.

---

Epilogue.

The amazing scientific discoveries leading up to the failed attempt at contacting an extraterrestrial species had forever changed the Kerbal species - the way they thought - the way they lived. But, alas, they had sealed their own fate with an experiment whose results might well have proven to be inconclusive. Their safety systems had been insufficient; Their commanding officers had been short-sighted. And their attempt at making contact had failed. And their demise had occurred with exactly the right circumstances to create a time paradox.

If they had never attempted the experiment, the SR-71 carrying Alnie Kerman never would have been carried back in time by one of thousands of temporal fractures created by the failure, and so, the strange, disc-shaped object that sparked Kerbalkind to attempt to perform the experiment in the first place would never have crashed. And the same for the Capricorn Station. The Kerbal race had sealed their own fate by simply existing - by tampering with temporal fractures, and tinkering with technology that was far beyond their reach, they had, in a sense, inadvertently destroyed themselves.

And no one would ever make contact with the species whose vehicles crashing all those millions of year ago had sparked the search to make contact with them in the first place. None, that is, except one...

That's supposed to be a reflection ^^.

The End...

Edited August 7, 2017 by NISSKEPCSIM

NISSKEPCSIM · August 6, 2017

And so, my first ever fanfiction of these forums comes to a close. I shall be leaving this thread open for those who wish to discuss the ending, and I will be coming around every now and then to check on this thread, and maybe answer some questions.

Until then, goodbye.

cratercracker · August 7, 2017

That was pretty good!

'Kontakt' - A KSP Novel

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First letter: installation

Second letter: type of equipment

Third letter: purpose

Systems

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