MechJeb -- A KSP Short Story (Chapter VI)

[Starwhip]

Thought I'd try my hand at this newfangled "fan-fiction" thing.

Not going to be your average "Jeb's a Badass" story, and that's all I'm going to say.

MechJeb -- A KSP Short Story

CHAPTER ONE: The Flight Begins.

"Guidance systems online... now," the speaker buzzed. Jeb looked at it in disgust. Like I'll ever need those, he thought. Nevertheless, he flipped the switches of the corresponding systems to finish the flight controller's instructions. Lights started flashing on the overhead consoles, dials began to function. Several cockpit lights flared to life, making it hard for Jeb to see out the small window of his cramped capsule.

"Okay, mission control is giving the green light on all main and sub systems. Launch expected in the next ten minutes." This time it was a very familliar voice, through his helmet's intercom. Jeb cracked a small smile.

"Kraken, Gene, what happened to the good ol' days when you just lit the BACC whenever you felt like it?" Jeb heard Gene chuckle softly into the mic.

"It's not our fault. These new Mun vessels are giving us hell in the engineering department; we really don't have the funds we need to do it properly. We need to test each one thoroughly before flight to make sure it's not going to fall apart at the seams." Jeb crossed his arms, understanding but still not satisfied. "But still," Gene continued, "This isn't your average ship anyway. She's a multistage, highly specialized, and extremely sensitive piece of work."

"Oh, it's a piece of work, all right," he muttered, nearly under his breath. He'd seen the haphazard way the engineers had welded the tanks together this time around, the secondhand bolts they used. It was almost a miracle that the crawler had brought it to the pad in one piece.

And now he was sitting in it, waiting for a controlled explosion to take place. It was his job, and he loved it.

"You know you don't really mean that." Before Jeb could answer, a burst of radio static from the ship's console cut him off. He hit the 'talk' button.

"Say again, control?" A short delay.

"Launch timer initiated. T-30 seconds and counting." His heart skipped a beat. I'm nervous. Why am I nervous? He managed a level reply;

"Copy. Activating stage one engines... now." A quiet, familiar whoosh came as the pressurized tanks were tested, venting off a small amout of fuel. "Tanks are good. Repeat: fuel tanks are good."

"We read you, Jebediah." He placed his hands on the flight sticks. "T-15 and counting. Capsule life support maintaining status. Second stage tanks read green." Jeb glanced out of the capsule window for a brief moment, saw the deep, rich blue of the sky, and the stark white contrast of a few wispy clouds.

"T-10, 9, 8..." Jeb tightened his grip on the flight sticks. He saw the throttle readout beginning to climb ever so slowly to its maximum value.

"7, 6, 5, main engine start..." He heard the dull rumble of the seven-engine cluster at the base of the craft as the Rockomax nozzles began to guzzle fuel.

"3, 2, 1, clamps released. Liftoff! I repeat, liftoff of the Venturer I..." All further chatter was silenced by the massive primal roar of the engines below him, shoving him down into his seat, and into the sky.

Edited April 9, 2016 by Starwhip

[CatastrophicFailure]

[spellingNazi]brought it to the PAD in one piece.[/spellingNazi]

but seriously, this is good. I shall be watching eagerly.

[Starwhip]

Hey, thanks (for both).

I might be taking a bit of liberty with the placement of the buildings here, but hey, it's my story.

CHAPTER TWO: Ascendance

Bill walked slowly down the hall of the administration facility. The worn coffee tables, the dimly flickering lights, the dilapidated door frames to the many offices all screamed "bankruptcy". He kicked an old cardboard cup from it's place in the middle of the hallway back under an old conference chair.

Kraken, we've let this place go downhill. I hope Jeb's flight goes well. Finally, Bill reached the door of Wernher's office. He reached up to knock on the door... just as a distant, haunting siren blared. A steady rising, falling, rising howling that penetrated deep into Bill's being. The launch warning!

The door opened suddenly, revealing Wernher's drawn, weathered face. It creased into a warm smile.

"Bill! I'm glad you're here. Quickly, come to the window."

Bill stepped into the barren executive office, not much larger than the break room in the Vehicle Assembly Building. It smelled faintly of paper and metal, and based on the temperature, the climate control seemed to be broken. But there was one gem among the dust and rocks; the large, curved window that overlooked the launchpad and runway, nearly one hundred and eighty degrees of unrestricted vision, so brilliantly clear that it felt out of place.

"She's a beauty, eh, Bill?" Wernher gestured toward Venturer I, held firmly on the launchpad by the dull red arms of the clamps. The launch siren continued to wail.

"That she is," Bill said. And she cost too much. He turned toward Wernher, but the voice of Mission Control interrupted him.

"T-30 seconds. All non-vital personnel, please move to your designated areas." A small burst of vapor came from the lower engines as Bill looked back to Venturer I. "T-15," the loudspeaker announced. More jets of gas, this time from the second stage tanks. "T-10, 9, 8, 7, 6..."

"Oh, boy," Bill glanced at Wernher, saw that his fingers were crossed behind his back. Smoke began to billow out from the channels under the launchpad; Bill could see the Skippers begin to heat up.

"3, 2, 1, 0... "

And then the smoke took on a vigor that Bill had never seen before. Deafening waves of sound hit the glass as Grey-white clouds laced with fire rose up in a curtain around the craft, completely obscuring it from view. Bill gasped. "Holy Kraken!"

Wernher held up a hand. "Wait for it..." Several agonizing seconds elapsed. Then Venturer I's grey Mark I pod emerged from the roiling smoke, promptly followed by its transfer section, ascent stage, and seven blazing nozzles. Bill cheered, Wernher's grin widened.

"Liftoff! We have liftoff of Venturer I!" The PA system in the office could barely compete with the roaring of the engines. The ship continued to rise for nearly a minute, drowning out all other sound, though growing quieter by the moment. Wernher cupped his hand near Bill's ear.

"The first staging event should occur right about... now!"

There was a bright flash, and three of Venturer I's tanks and engines separated from the main stage. Bill frowned. "What kind of staging is that?"

Wernher positively beamed. "That, my friend, is the dawn of a new form of efficiency, designed by yours truly. Those three tanks that just fell off? They were feeding into the other three radial tanks, which, in turn, are transferring fuel to the center. So right now," he pointed upward, "Venturer I has all of it's tanks nearly full. When the next three run out and separate in a few more minutes, the center engine will still be full."

The two of them continued to watch as the ship began to curve toward the east, steadily shrinking into a glowing dot. After a while, there was another flash, significantly dimmer this time, and the dot shrunk to a point smaller than the average star in the sky. And then the ship faded entirely. Bill waited a few seconds before looking to Wernher.

"So, I've been meaning to ask you... Why did that ship cost so much?"

Edited March 10, 2015 by Starwhip
Why... Why so many typos? :(

[Starwhip]

Typos, begone!

CHAPTER THREE: Transfer

Jeb made a few final attitude adjustments before shutting down the second stage engine. He reached over to the console and depressed the radio's transmit button. "Control, this is Jeb. Orbit achieved."

"Telemetry confirms orbit. Mun transfer window in T-3:37."

"Thanks for the heads-up." Jeb leaned back as far as his helmet and the micro-gravity would allow him, closed his eyes and let out a pent-up breath. Halfway to anywhere, he thought, and smiled.

"An autopilot unit?! Wernher, are you crazy?!" Bill hated yelling at Wernher, but the memory of the catastrophic failure that the last computer-guided rocket had experienced was branded into his mind.

"Relax, Bill, we have it set up only to learn from Jeb's piloting, it will be fine-"

"The frack it will be fine. If Venturer I fails up there, we're down the hole. Kaput! Not only will we have lost our best pilot, but we have no money!"

"I know, I know. It was a gamble. But just imagine what we can do with that autopilot when we get it working."

"If we get it working."

Jeb's helmet speaker came online once more. It was Gene.

"Okay, Jeb, the Mun should be coming up over the horizon any moment now. You know the drill." Jeb pushed the flight stick forward slightly, adjusting the craft's attitude.

"Right, thanks." Knew it already, he silently continued. Jeb squinted at the bright blue glare of the horizon line, where the edge of Kerbin's atmosphere brushed the vastness of space. His right hand inched towards the throttle. The air inside the capsule seemed charged with anticipation.

Then the cratered face of the Mun broke Kerbin's blue disk. Wait for it...

"Transfer in T-10." Jeb glanced at his instruments for a brief moment. He remembered the training session he had attended not one day ago. You won't be able to eyeball this one, Jeb, Wernher had told him. You'll need to reach a certain velocity at a certain time to be on the right trajectory. The image Wernher had shown him blazed to life, a shimmering mirage floating just in front of his face. The carefully computed number burned with exceptional brightness.

"Go for transfer, Jebediah."

Jeb shoved the throttle to its maximum position, and the acceleration once again pinned him to the command chair.

"Go for transfer, copy that." His velocity indicator began to rise incredibly swiftly. Twenty-six hundred... Twenty eight... Twenty nine... Just as Wernher had instructed, as the indicator approached the required value, he brought the throttle back, slowing its ascent.

"A little longer, Jeb," Gene encouraged him. Lower he brought the throttle, lower still. At just the right moment, he brought the throttle to its 'off' position.

"Control, this is Jeb, transfer burn completed. ETA of Mun inter-"

There was a muffled BOOM.

[OrtwinS]

But... BOOMs are good...? Right?

[Whirligig Girl]

Holy crap this is really suspenseful! MechJeb is learning. Sure. I'll buy that.

[Starwhip]

CHAPTER FOUR: Adrift

"Jebediah, confirm contact... Jebediah, confirm contact..."

No response. Gene swore under his breath, pounded on the comms unit with his fists. Mission Control was deathly silent as everyone waited for any kind of return transmission from the damaged capsule. Only the faintest telemetry data was being beamed back.

"Jebediah, if you can hear me, please confirm contact..."

"How can I explain this to you, Bill, in a way that makes sense?" Wernher sat at his desk, his gaze leveled at Bill over steepled fingers. After a moment's hesitation, he continued. "Our contacts want many things. Some of them are exceedingly hazardous to a spacecraft's crew: long-term missions through space, for example, lead to radiation poisoning. Several probes have confirmed this. And yet, even our finest technologies, our most advanced algorithms, are no match for a Kerbal's piloting skills, of which Jebediah is the best of the best. The autopilot unit has all of the aforementioned algorithms, plus the ability to adapt. It feeds itself raw telemetry data straight from the craft in an attempt to refine it's programs. After this flight, it should be able to replicate a Mun transfer flawlessly, where other devices have failed from lack of corrective capabilities."

Bill sank slightly into the water-damaged upholstery of his chair, defeated. A light began to flash on the intercom unit; Wernher pressed a small button next to it.

"Yes?"

It was the voice of Gene, in Mission Control, who answered. "Wernher, you are needed in comms. There is a problem."

Bill became as stiff as a board. He and Wernher exchanged frightened glances a split second before jumping up, rushing out the door, and down the hall.

Jeb sighed and once again depressed the "transmit" button.

"Gene, do you read me? Come in, Gene."

And again, there was no response. He let go of the button in frustration before unbuckling his safety harness. Jeb closed his helmet, made sure that oxygen was flowing independently of the main craft. Then he began to depressurize the capsule. Fixing a fracking antenna... Why me? I'm a pilot, not an engineer. The oxygen gauge dropped to zero, and Jeb opened the hatch.

Down by the engine compartment, a small piece of shattered life-support casing floated into some exposed contacts. There was a bright arc as current became redirected, and the fragment became welded in place.

A small LED next to the contacts switched from yellow to green.

And a display flickered to life.

Attitude Adjustment in Progress... Please Wait.

EDIT:

Yes, I end each chapter on a cliff like that on purpose... And yes, I enjoy doing it.

Edited March 17, 2015 by Starwhip

[Starwhip]

This is short because I'm on mobile. More coming this weekend, for sure!

CHAPTER FIVE: The Other Side of the Glass

Jeb drifted slowly through the dark emptiness of space toward the communications antenna. He had a set of tools attached to his EVA suit on a strap, each one secured by a cable of decent length. Carefully, he manipulated the joysticks that controlled his thruster pack. Jeb floated closer still, and he readied himself to grab hold of the small rung near the base of the craft placed there for exactly this purpose. Giving the joysticks a last push, he reached out with both arms...

Gene was aroused from his half-sleep by a slowly blinking amber light. Frowning, he leaned forward over the control panel, attracting the attention of Wernher and Bill, who stopped their hushed conversation.

"What's that light, Gene?" Bill walked over to the comtrol station and cast his gaze on the light.

"Not sure, Bill. It's new. Let's see here..." He traced a faint white identification number with his finger, then turned to the manual on his left. Running through it, he quickly found what he was looking for. Gene let out a short gasp.

"Autopilot status light," Gene read in a hurried voice. "It's executing a program!"

[teepee2345]

this... this could explain why MechJeb went rouge in Enter-Elysium's World War K2.

[ghostbuzzer7]

These endings are really starting too kick in suspense effects.

[Andem]

Make More of these, please. Now, please.

[Starwhip]

18 hours ago, Andem said:

Make More of these, please. Now, please.

Sigh...

Welp. It has been resurrected. I guess that means the time has come to continue.
Honestly, the fact that I never finished this story been bothering me for a while now. Thanks for the motivation.

[SpaceplaneAddict]

This is the most a be to has ever been worth. Worth more than conquering Eve...

[Starwhip]

Well shoot. Where were we? I kinda forgot what I had originally intended for this, so we'll find out where it goes together!

Chapter Six: Seeing Stars

Jebediah frowned as he noticed that he seemed to be slowing down as he approached the rung. He looked about on his suit, but there were no signs that a thruster had malfunctioned. No fuel drainage, no stuck joysticks, nothing. He slowed further, faster, until the rung seemed to stop. And then he began to drift backwards.

But he wasn't the one drifting. As the rung pulled away from him, it began to arc upwards. Baffled, he realized to late what it meant. The cockpit of the rotating Venturer I collided with Jeb's helmet with a CLANG, and sent him spinning away from the ship, dazed, Kerbin's blue disk floating into and out of view again and again in the black emptiness.

Jeb regained control a few seconds later, stabilizing himself. With a quick flick of his wrist, he spun around to face the ship, which was coming to a stop again, its singular solar panel facing the sun. "What in the world was THAT, Gene?! Gene? Oh. Right." Deftly he pushed the translation stick forward, moving in towards the rung again. He waited a good minute a few meters away, making sure that the ship wouldn't lash out at him again, and then grabbed hold. The antenna was to his right, and he could see the transmitter unit floating free on a short lead of cable. It did not appear to have severed, only broken off. Not focusing the signal properly. Alright. I can fix that. He grabbed the hanging transmitter. Probably.

 

"Whatever it was doing, it completed." Gene rolled his chair back from the desk slightly. "Had we more telemetry we could get the program number, but until Jeb fixes that-"

"Hello hello, Control, come in Control?"

Gene froze mid-sentence as the transmission fed through. He traded stares with Bill and Wernher, before scooting the chair back in and attempting to transmit. "Jeb? What's happened?"

"Well, something blew up, and damaged the antenna. And then the ship tried to punt me to who knows where. I fixed the antenna, sort of. It just snapped off the transmitter circuit, so... I'm pointing it back at the dish."

Gene burst out in relieved laughter. "Well, whatever works! There should be a welding tool in the service compartment. Check in there."

"I'll have to let go of the transmitter to do that. Anything else beforehand?"

Looking at Wernher, Gene asked wordlessly about the autopilot. The scientist shook his head. Gene transmitted again. "Not now. Fix her up, then." He heard Jebediah confirm before the link went dead again.

[SpaceplaneAddict]

I would replike this if the forums didn't limit my replikes.

Great chapter, looking forward 2 see more!

 

 

Stay Determined . . .

[Andem]

Whenever you're ready!