That Is Not Dead Which Can Eternal Fly

[0111narwhalz]

The engine died, sputtering. Jeb swore under his breath, reaching for the translation controls. He glared at the altimeter as it counted down alarmingly quickly, the rate needle wavering as it crept towards zero.
"Smooth landing, Jeb," Gene's voice came through the speaker, an echo lightlagged to absurdity.
Jeb cackled, one hand still on the translation stick as he keyed the transmit button.

"Smooth as silk. See you soon." Jeb's voice was overlaid with alarms and the mad enthusiasm unique to kerbal pilots.
Gene sighed and pushed himself back from the desk in his chair. "You're sure there's no chance he survived?"
Wernher shook his head. "Our models show a full breakup at that impact velocity, and the crater ejecta analysis from DRESat agrees. No debris larger than thirty centimeters. No disturbance since the impact, either."
Gene turned to Wernher. "At least it was quick. Best get the service prepared, then." No matter how many times it had happened, in the space program and before, it never seemed to get easier.

The mood in the astronaut complex' cafeteria was somber. Close to a hundred kerbs in their dress whites stood, shoulder to shoulder. At the end of the room, on a table draped with a blue cloth, lay a helmet. Its faceplate was painted with a likeness of Jeb's face, the near-opaque visor raised.
"…May the kraken spare his soul." Walt reached forward and flicked the visor down, the crinkle of his hazmat suit the only sound after the snap of the visor.
Silence reigned in the cafeteria for almost fifteen seconds before the door at the back flew open, bashed by a cart heavily-laden with snacks. A kerbal hung from the handle at its back as it coasted to a halt in the center of the room. Plastered across the kerb's face was an unmistakable grin.
"I brought the snacks, what'd I miss?"

[KerballingSmasher]

HA! Very Jeb, much wow.

[HansonKerman]

ooo! I do love me a good fanfic.