SREP: The Space Research and Exploration Program

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XIX - Upgraded Relays

14th July 1958

"Harriet" The Major calls out, stopping the young Lieutenant as she strides across the parking lot. She looks back, shading her eyes from the sinking sun and smiles as Jane hustles over.

"Major Wolcott. I thought I'd given enough of my time today."

"Apparently not. You've been avoiding me Lieutenant."

"Not avoiding as such... I thought we were doing away with ranks." She says, leaning against her car.

"You started it." the younger woman thinks for a moment, then raises her hands.

"You got me. Did you read my report?"

"About Relay-2? It's going to be severely over mass, you said"

"It's the only way of getting solar intake high enough to power the damned thing." Jane smirks, then blanches as Harriet gives her a sharp look.

"Sorry, I don't think I've ever heard you swear. Go on."

"What else is there to say. I don't think we can design a satellite that can always be on and functionally useful and still be launched on an RL-3." They stand in silence for a moment, the Major looking at her feet.

"So don't." She finally says.

"What?"

"We'll shift the Relay program onto Ajax launches. I'll talk to the chief about getting the first one ready for August." The Major smiles at the Navy officer "How about it?"

"Uh... Yeah, that would be great." She stands, looking back to the office. "I guess I need to go make some plans..."

"You can go back to your paperwork tomorrow. Come on, there's a restaurant just off the base. We'll talk there."

---

They settled into a booth in the restaurant and made small talk as they ordered dinner. They were the only two uniforms in the place, their sharply cut greens and blue's clashing with the crumpled workmen sprawled across the bar.

"I didn't think this would be your sort of place, Major." Jane raises an eyebrow. "Jane, sorry." Harriet says, and they both laugh.

"What can I say, I'm a sucker for good coffee."

"I'm amazed you haven't dipped into the budget for a new machine yet." She takes a sip from the mug in front her and her eyes widen. "Is that what real coffee tastes like? It's been so long..." Jane fights down a laugh, frowning at the Lieutenant instead.

"You really think I'd embezzle funds from SREP for personal usage? Harriet, I'm hurt." The woman's face turns from a smile to a look of shock in a moment and she begins to stutter.

"Jane, Major, No... I never meant-" She stops as she see's the Major biting her lip. "You... You're teasing me."

"I couldn't resist." Harriet makes a face and looks into her coffee.

"You're pouting." The Major says.

"I'm not pouting."

"You are, and you're going to have to stop if we're ever going to be able to talk shop."

"Too distracting for you, Major?" She says, stressing the last word with a grin.

"A little." She says, and is treated to another of the Lieutenants blushes. "Now, you quoted 300 kilograms minimum yes? Well, with the Ajax..."

And with that, their conversation goes back to their work. After the meal, Harriet drives the Major back to Canaveral in a comfortable silence, before saying her goodbye's and driving home.

---

17th August 1958

Relay-2 launched early on the 17th, the heavy Ajax rocket lofting it out of the atmosphere. And compared to the payloads that Ajax was designed to carry the Relay satellite essentially was nothing. That's why, in front of the Relay satellite, the engineer's had mounted yet another of the Doctor's re-entry payloads. They'd proved a safe return once, but had it been luck or could they do it again? With the spare payload space on the Relay/Ajax, it had given him the perfect moment to find out.

Like every previous launch, the Ajax shot vertically into the air and began to turn as it dwindled from view. High in the atmosphere the rocket leaned over, a little slower than it had on previous launches, and then released the first stage. As the projected upper limit of its flight reached 3000 kilometres above the Earth's surface, the rocket rotated all the way over, firing the second stage and accelerating it into a near-perfect circular orbit. Eventually it detached the second stage as it ran out of fuel. 3000 kilometres above the earth's surface, Relay-2 unfolded its solar-absorbent wings and began transmitting.

---

"Dr Pickering, if you'd do the honours." Jane said, handing him the telephone handset. She could see the old man was shaking slightly, hopefully at the momentous nature of that moment in the fading summer of 1958. He took it and held it to his ear.

"Hello, London. This is Michael Pickering speaking from Canaveral in the United States of America." There is silence, a faint crackling from the telephone the only sign of a connection. After a moment, faint and somewhat spoiled by interference, comes the first satellite communication to cross the Atlantic.

"Hello, Canaveral, this is London speaking. You're late."

---

Media:

Artists impression of Relay-2 unfolded in orbit

Edited November 1, 2014 by HMS Sophia

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XIX(a)

15th July 1958

"So every day it comes around again and we get a solid connection with London, for a few minutes." Harriet says, finishing her briefing. The two women were sitting in Jane's office both with a cup of coffee each, going over the previous day's success.

"What can I say, I'm impressed." Jane says, leaning back in her chair.

"It's not doing anything for us though, is it. Having a relay up there is useful for twenty minutes a day."

"Don't tell me you're unhappy that it works?"

"Unhappy!" Harriet laughs "No, not at all. It's just not doing much for us. We can't use it to talk to anyone else for anything more than brief periods. It won't be at all useful for talking to anything in orbit."

"So, fix it."

"What do you mean fix it?"

"I mean how can you make it useful?"

"On it's own it can't be, it would take a ring of satellites to provide anything near constant communication, maybe two. Even then there would be gaps."

"How many satellites in each ring?" Harriet thinks for a moment, staring at Jane.

"You're serious aren't you." The Major shrugs. Harriet makes some brief notes on a pad. "Five, six, maybe even eight satellites in the ring. A dipole for cross-communication added to the hardware, and a software upgrade to allow them to bounce signals off each other." She pauses. "It won't be a particularly secure network if we keep broadcasting in the clear."

"I'll make sure to tell the military not to send secrets through it then." Jane says with a smirk.

"'The military'? Are you not counting yourself a member, Major?"

"If the military had really wanted me, Lieutenant, I'd be serving on one of their bases, not seconded to a civilian posting."

"Regretting it? I mean, I'm in the same position." Jane lets out a sigh.

"No, Harriet, no. I'm sorry, I'm a little disenchanted that's all. Working here has been amazing. We've done great things, I've met... I've met the best people." She gives the Lieutenant a pointed look and the other women flushes red. "Put together a launch schedule for the first relay network. Before tonight."

"Why before tonight?"

"Because we're going to discuss it over dinner." The Major pauses, smiling. "Go on. You'd best get started if you're going to be ready in time." The Lieutenant stands and stutters her way through a good bye before hurrying out of the office.

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XX - Big Plans, Bigger Sky

16th July 1958

Late on the 16th, the engine on the Doctor's re-entry probe fired for but a moment, dropping its flight path into Earth's atmosphere. The booster detaches after its perfect re-entry burn, allowing the probe to correct its own trajectory. It smashed into the thicker air travelling at several times the speed of sound, the shield beneath it slowly turning a bright orange colour. Flames licked at the edge of the pad, only the shockwave in front of the probe keeping them away from the sensitive electronics behind it. It slowed rapidly as it descended, meeting thicker and thicker air, until finally it came within a few kilometres of the surface of the water. A hatch blew open and a small drogue chute unfurled, giving a sharp tug on the probe and slowing it further. Finally a second hatch blew and the main chute opened. The probe descended slowly, but certainly not gracefully, to the surface.

---

"Chief. Doctor Pickering. Congratulations are in order, I think? The first production launch of an Ajax, the first booster restart in orbit, a safe return." She smiles at them both, an expression they return.

"It could hardly have been more successful, no." The Doctor says. "Now we just have to see if Chief Marshall can still fly the old rockets."

"Come on, Doc, course I can. Your little rocket will go up like a dream."

"Are you certain, Chief? Can you really step back after the glory of Ajax..." Jane almost cuts him off before she see's the twinkle in the British scientists eye.

"Doc, please, the RL-3 is easy. We'll have no trouble."

"Well, if you're absolutely sure..." He smiles at the other man. "Excuse me, Major, I have work to do."

Edited November 4, 2014 by HMS Sophia

[Fenisse]

This is really, really nice! Love RSS AARs, and this is well written too! Good luck and keep it up! (+rep)

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XXI - Higher, Faster

August 28th 1958

"Doctor Pickering" Jane said, waving the man into her office. "Orbiter-5's launch went well." They'd sent the probe up on one of their remaining few RL-3's several days previously.

"Yes, it did" He said, taking a seat. "We've got some of the first telemetry analysed as well. Oh, one thing. We got some of it's data via your Lieutenants relay satellite. Could you pass along my congratulations the next time you see her?"

"What makes you think I'll see her before you do Doctor?" The man smiles and raises his eyebrows.

"Major... As much as I may be an old Englishman, I still notice when two young people are making doe eyes at each other." She turns red and looks at her desk, embarrassed. "Oh come, it's nothing to be ashamed of. As far as I know, most of the staff think you're being very sweet, and you do make a rather fetching couple-"

"Doctor, we are not a couple!"

"Are you not?" He makes a noise of disbelief. "Perhaps I'm mistaken then. Anyway, Orbiter-5"

"Yes, you said you had some results."

"I do, but they're not as encouraging as we had hoped. Although it achieved some five thousand kilometres altitude at the highest point, we have yet to find the projected upper edge of this belt." The Major leans back in her chair and sighs.

"You're going to need to fly more missions then?"

"Yes" The Doctor nods, "But it's more likely we'll need to switch the Ajax before we'll be able to fly any more considerable missions. The current booster simply doesn't cut it for the altitudes we need to fly our research payloads out to."

"You realise this means we're only flying Ajax's?"

"Is that a problem, Major? Surely it means that by the time Mr. Roth's plan comes to fruition, it will be a well proven design." She pauses before responding

"I suppose so. We're relying on a single production line though, and that's... we will be severely delayed if anything threatens it."

"Then we must hope nothing does happen to it." The Doctor says, making to leave. "I will plan Orbiter-6 for Ajax then. When is Arthur back, by the way?"

"Middle of next month, hopefully with a truck load of pilots. He's been interviewing them as he goes along." She shrugs. "It seemed the quickest way to make a primary assessment."

"Ah, well, we must hope he has been met with success. Good day, Major."

"See you later, Doctor. Best of luck with the next design." He smiles and walks out, closing the door behind him.

---

The Major tried to focus on her paperwork after the Doctor left, but it quickly proved impossible. She threw down her pen and stood, walking over to the window. The base was relatively quiet, as it always was for a few days after a successful launch. People were checking data, cleaning up for the next launch, or recovering from the inevitable post-launch parties. Even Harriet hadn't managed to close those down, and Jane had a feeling the Chief positively encouraged them.

In the distance, she could see the two new launch pads under construction. If SREP's launch rate continued to increase in pace as it already had, they would need even more of them twelve months hence. She could imagine it, an enormously long row of pads, stretching for miles down the coastline. She imagined a new rocket being launched every day, building space stations, taking people to the moon, or even beyond... She had found herself perusing the worst of budget science fiction magazines recently. They were certainly entertaining in their grandiose impressions of future space travel. Jane only hoped that one day they would see something similar in real life.

She shook her head to clear it and walked to the door, pulling on her jacket as she went. She buttoned it as she trotted down the stairs and headed for the Flight Planning offices on the ground floor.

"Harriet, got a minute?" She said as she stepped through the door, scanning the office as she did so.

"Major, sure." The other woman stands, leading the Major into her office and closing the door behind her. "Is there a problem?"

"Uh... no, no there isn't. Pickering sends his thanks for Relay-2 by the way. He's impressed."

"He would be, it's a good system. It'll be better once a full ring is up there." The Lieutenant says, leaning against her desk. They are silent for a beat, and then another. "You came down here just to tell me that?"

"No, I..." She paused and decided to be honest. "The Doctor said we make a cute couple." Jane turns red in saying it, followed a moment later by Harriet.

"Oh..."

"Oh what?"

"It's just the Doc, it's fine-"

"It's not just Pickering. Apparently most of those on base think we're 'sweet'." Jane says, crossing her arms.

"Oh..." Harriet repeats, biting her lip.

"What are we going to do, Harriet?"

"Well... Is it really a bad thing?"

"I've got a good portion of my staff thinking I'm getting shacked up with a junior officer. How could that not be a bad thing!" Harriet's face drops, and she crosses her own arms. "Oh, Harriet, no that's not what I meant."

"What did you mean then?" She says quietly.

"I meant... Harriet, we've not even talked about this yet. We've gone for dinner a few times... What am I supposed to say?"

"Why don't you tell me how you feel?" Harriet says, looking the Major in the eyes. "Are you just trying to 'shack up' with me?"

"No... I like you. You're a great asset here." The junior snorts derisively. "Jesus, Harriet, what am I supposed to say. I really like you. When we have dinner, I don't want the night to end. I want... I want you, with me."

"I know." The younger woman said, and then she kissed her. Jane took a moment to wonder exactly how Harriet had managed to close the space between them without her noticing, then cleared her mind and focused on the fact that this woman, this beautiful, intelligent woman, was kissing her. A few seconds later it broke, and they each took a deep breath.

"Maybe we do make a cute couple." Harriet said, smiling.

"Maybe we do. Dinner tonight?" Jane grinned at the woman in her arms.

"Sure. Your place this time though. You get to cook." She kissed Jane again, quicker this time. "Go on now, Major. I've got work to do." Jane turned around and left, red faced, and went back to her office.

Edited November 7, 2014 by HMS Sophia

[Captain_Party]

Can we see the tracking station map with all the satellites

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XXII - Astronaut Selection

14th September 1958

"Arthur!" Jane breaks into a broad smile as the older man steps through the door, closing it behind him. "It's been months. You don't call, you don't write." She says, teasing him. They shake hands and he takes a seat opposite her.

"You got my reports, I assume?" She nods, frowning.

"I did, they were all... interesting, to say the least. Are you okay, Arthur?"

"Just tired Major. I do not think I can make it around the country a second time." He gives her a wan smile.

"Very well. I'll try to keep this short then. I noticed the bases you visited weren't entirely welcoming?"

"Oh, they were welcoming enough, especially the Army and Marines. They simply did not seem that interested in what SREP was doing."

"Hence the low application number" The Major said, leaning back in her chair. "How many was it, 90?" He nods "We wanted more than 200-"

"I tried, Major. I have given talks, held private conversation, I have even gone through the benefits of being seconded to us. There was little interest... I do not think they believe we can do it."

"Did Orbiter really do us that much damage?"

"Essentially, yes. The media has had little interest in our last few launches. We are not getting the right sort of attention, if we get any at all." He said, fishing an old paper out of his suitcase. It's folded back, showing an inside page title reading 'Orbital Failure; Can SREP really be trusted?'.

"Ouch... That hurts."

"It does, and not just our feelings. Major, have you thought about hiring someone to deal with public relations?"

"I hadn't, no. You think it would be appropriate?"

"I doubt we have a choice. We need to start dealing with this before we put a man in space. Do you think we will recieve the funding we need if the public really thinks this of us?"

"No, that's true... I'll get someone on it." She lets out a long sigh. "This job is far more complicated that I was promised... Okay, tell me about these candidates." Arthur nods, pulling a second packet of papers out of his case.

"90 individuals aged 25 to 30, 1,800 flight hours and holding bachelors degree's or higher. Fifty are from the Air Force, twenty-eight from the Navy, and the rest are Army and Marine test pilots."

"The Colonels really came through then... They're all jet pilots?"

"All but ten or so. We have some veterans who stopped flying after the transfer to jets in six or seven years ago."

"No, they're not current enough. They're gone... Strange question, how many are over six feet?" He shrugs and they split the papers, shuffling through them quickly. Eventually they both have a small stack of tall pilots. "Toss them. The smaller they are, the lighter they'll be."

"Very well. What about selecting for low weights then? Under 80 kilograms?" She nods and they shuffle through their papers again, again splitting out a group and discarding them.

"I've got eleven. You?"

"Ten, Major."

"Good. Send invited to them, we'll begin a testing and training program immediately. Once you've got them undergoing that, I want a report on them. The best six of the group will be part of the first flight program."

"Ah, so we are going to do more than simply fly?" Arthur says with a smile.

"Of course, Mr Roth. Get on now, I'm sure you have plenty to do."

"Thank you, Major."

- - - Updated - - -

Can we see the tracking station map with all the satellites

The person who does all the flying is back tonight, I'll see what we can do

There's not that many flying though. Relay 1 and 2, Orbiter 3, 4 and 5... I think that's it.

Edited November 9, 2014 by HMS Sophia

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XXIII - A Spy in Space

26th September 1958

Cartographer-1 was assembled under a cloud, and a hush fell over the base as the launch day drifted closer. The weather had closed in, turning everyone's cheerful fall into a grey, damp, cloudy September with more projected to follow in the months to come. The base looked darker than the Major had ever remembered, even the night before when it had been lit by floodlamps while the Ajax rocket with its new payload was lifted into place. She hoped it was the weather, but it probably had more to do with the guards who had suddenly sprung up all over the base. She didn't know why, but it surprised and even slightly shocked her to see weaponry being carried so openly around the facilities. Sure, the Major and the other officers all carried their side-arms when they remembered too, but the rifles the USAF personnel carried were much more obvious, less easy to ignore. She was saddened by it almost, this slight loss of civilian innocence that came with the presence of such a stark military presence.

It was down to them that the Doctor swept into her office early on the morning of the launch.

"I'm not happy about this Major, not one bit." The Doctor said, closing the door softly behind him. Even in anger, he was such a careful man.

"Doctor? Is it the weather? We can always-"

"Of course it's not the weather, Major. I can stand a little inclemency." He said, taking a seat. "You know as soon as that rocket goes up, we are complicit in spying on another sovereign nation." She nods.

"Well... yes. Doctor, I didn't think you had any real issue with this."

"How could I not? Jane, I thought the start of this... this enterprise of ours was the beginning of a new age, not simply another way for the government to peek over the neighbours fence."

"It's not, Doctor. This isn't our sole remit, we are primarily here to broaden our horizons."

"Then why work with them on this?"

"Do you think I had a choice?" She sighs, taking her seat opposite him. "Doctor, while it's not our mission, it's also not coming out of our pocket. You know the Air Force is funding this?" He nods "Did you know they've over funded this launch, and will continue to do so for the foreseeable future?"

"They're... paying us for this?" He says, looking lost.

"Essentially, yes. You know how tight our budget is, I can't afford not to work with them on this. The more of these we launch, the more launches of our own we can fund. Hell, I could hardly refuse their request with the current incumbent."

"He's one of yours, isn't he?"

"Retired senior officer, well respected and a war veteran. I'm pretty sure he's the reason they picked an army officer to head up SREP. So you see, I have little option."

"I... I suppose I can see the pressures you're under. But I want it noted that I work on these projects under protest."

"I don't think I can argue with that Doctor. Would you prefer to appoint a second for military programs?" He frowns, pondering the idea.

"You know, I hadn't considered... Well, there is one member of my staff. I'll talk to them." He smiles for the first time since coming in. "May I?"

"Of course, Doctor. Good day."

---

At Midday on the 26th, the Ajax carrying Cartographer-1 lifted from the pad and shot into the sky. The base was strangely quiet as it did so, the observation bunker near deserted. Most of the staff had chosen to return home for the duration, and only mission essential staff were onsite, them and the senior staff who considered it their duty to remain. Even the small crowds that normally dotted the fence at prime viewing points were diminished or missing entirely. The Major hoped it was the bad weather or the cold. SREP could do with as little bad publicity as possible. However, she was almost certain it was down to the grim faced, armed and uniformed soldiers who were strung out along the fence, preventing any observers from coming too close. She wondered if they knew what they were guarding. Perhaps they had been told it was simply a weather satellite, just like everyone else, just like the press releases had said. She didn't doubt that any of them would have had a problem like Pickering's, they had all chosen to serve their country after all. She shook her head, refocused.

Cartographer was lifted into a perfect orbit by the now well tested Ajax booster, stage separation functioning exactly as planned, on time and without problem. Once there, the payload rotated and fired its own engine, moving its orbit until it was crossing the planet almost vertically. Every day, the satellite would cross both the North and South poles, another first for SREP. At just 500 kilometres or so, it was close to the edge of the atmosphere, but even so, they had managed to perform the mission exactly as the Air Force had wanted. A few minutes after the satellite was established to be in its promised orbit, the staff performed another new duty. For the first time, control of a satellite was transferred away from Mission Control, crossing instantly to an eerily similar bunker on the West Coast, under Vandenberg Air Force Base. There, USAF staff and junior elements of Major Wolcott's group would conduct the mission and the final stages which would include the return of an intelligence module from the satellite. But that wouldn't be for nearly two weeks, long after the staff at Canaveral had almost forgotten the mission.

The Major walked back to her office with only a half hearted sense of accomplishment. Sure, they had performed their mission expertly, but at what cost. She felt like they had lost some sort of civilian naivety, the Air Forces blunt military presence cutting away at their almost childlike aim to reach the stars and bringing them back to Earth. She hated herself for it, and not simply because of the terrible pun that her mind had spat out. She wanted to be like the Doctor, to protest the Air Forces interference and to send them away, to leave SREP alone and let it fly for the good of humanity and the world at large. But she was Army, and SREP was only as civilian as the United States of America was and to be honest, the nation wasn't very peaceful. She sighed as she let herself back into her office. Perhaps the next few launches would bring them back on track. Or maybe Harriet could cheer her up. Perhaps another dinner date was called for.

---

Media:

Picture taken of the launch of Cartographer-1. Photographer unknown, despite efforts to trace them by intelligence services.

Classified impression of Cartographer-1 in orbit, in mission configuration.

Blueprint of Cartographer-1, showing return payload.

Edited November 18, 2014 by HMS Sophia

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XXIV - A Mass Media point of view

29th September 1958

Jane had interviewed several candidates before the one who was currently sitting in front of her desk. Some had been completely green, new to the world of PR work and hoping that the relatively new nature of SREP would let them leap into a senior role. Some were older, critical, even cynical and seemed to see SREP as a decent retirement posting before leaving the PR world. None had impressed her, in the slightest, none were suitable and none could bring any real talent to SREP's thus far ignominious halls. But this man, the man who had just unbuttoned his suit jacket as if he was settling into the office, he was impressing her. Mathew Jepson, 32, with fourteen years of journalism, media activity and some reporting. His resume was certainly impressive enough. She dropped the paper back on her desk and crossed her arms, regarding him across the solid wood.

"Mr Jepson... I suppose the obvious question. Why do you want to work for SREP? Have you been following our work?" He shakes his head.

"Some, especially the bigger things. And yes," He says, shrugging "I saw the articles around the Orbiter failures. You were front page, especially after the German's beat you to it, but no. I wouldn't class myself as a follower."

"Then why the application?" Jane makes a face, perplexed at his presence.

"Honestly? You need me. Well, maybe not me specifically, but someone as good as me. Your media presence has been simply appalling. Launch notifications and announcements of success."

"Sure, we're giving out press releases."

"Maybe, but where's the... where's the punch? Where's the pizazz? Where's the glorious strides you're taking for the future of humanity?"

"We're not hiding what we're doing..." The Major says, frowning.

"Of course not, but you're also not announcing it properly. Major... You could have the people of this nation clamouring for more funding for SREP. You could have congressmen demanding that we launch a man into space soonest. Instead you have detractors and doubts."

"There's not much more we can do, we need proven systems, we need time to test-"

"And you need PR. SREP might be government funded, but you still need to be marketed to the public, you still need... spin. Good, positive spin, not the drubbing you've been given by the national rags."

"You can do that for us?"

"At the very least. I thought you needed someone like me when I got here, you've only proven my point since then." She gives him a glare and he laughs. "Sorry, my game isn't for everyone."

"It's hardly a game, Mr. Jepson-"

"No, not at all. I think I understand how important this place is, even if I'm not an avid believer just yet." After a moment, she nods. "So, how many more are you interviewing?"

"You're that last of them." She says, leaning back in her chair and sighing.

"So when do I start?" he says, with a grin.

"A little presumptuous, aren't we?"

"I'm sitting here, aren't I? If you'd wanted one of the others, I wouldn't have been interviewed." She laughs, shaking her head out of amusement.

"Okay... Okay, yes you've got the job. Starting a week today?"

"Sure. See you then." He stands and they shake hands before he re-buttons his jacket and leaves. She stands bemused as he closes the door behind him. At least it was one problem fixed.

Edited November 22, 2014 by HMS Sophia

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XXV - Solar Orbiter

8th October 1958

"I'm very pleased to welcome the six newest members of the SREP team." The huge round of applause was enhanced by the flash-pop of cameras as the hoard of reporters and photographers clamoured for space, trying to get a picture of the six uniformed men and women sitting at a long table atop a podium.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the press." Mathew Jepson, SREP's new PR guru was sitting in the middle of them, speaking into a microphone. "It gives me great pleasure to introduce Captain Mark Harrison, US Air Force." The leftmost man stands and smiles for the camera's, giving a little wave. He is blonde and blue eyed, every inch of him the model of the American farmboy image. "Captain Angela Stewart, US Air Force." A woman stands next, black hair pulled back in a tight pony tail. She raises a hand and gives the briefest of smiles before sitting again. "First Lieutenant Gerry Condon. US Air Force." A slight man, pale to the point of ghostliness bites his lip and smiles for the camera's, glancing at the more senior officers next too him. "Lieutenant Maxwell Burgess, US Navy." A black man, his face stern, stands and nods to the camera's. His hands stay clenched in front of him, knuckles tensed. He sits again after a few moments of photographs. "Captain Charles Dean Pleasant Jr., US Army." The last of the men stands, bulkier than the rest, with broad shoulders and thick muscles visible in his neck. He gives a wave and grins at the camera's, eyes shining. "And finally, First Lieutenant Carmine Matlock, US Marines." The second woman stands, a broad smile on her face and raises a hand to the audience. Her darker skin belies her indigenous heritage, and fewer flashes pop as had done for some of the previous candidates. "Questions will be taken one at a time, but please, they've only just landed. A little sympathy for their long day in the air would be very much appreciated." He laughs, followed by the group surrounding him. Eventually he points to a man in the audience, who stands.

"Hi, Tim Smith, Daily Herald. Captain Harrison, what does it feel like to be here today?" The blonde man laughs and leans forward

"Uh... That's one hell of a question, Tim. Obviously I'm very pleased. I'm going to get to fly higher than anyone before me, and considering what the Air Force has been doing recently, that's no mean feat. It's a dream come true, I'll tell you that for nothing." The reporter nods and sits, another standing as soon as he's pointed at.

"John Jones, New York Post. Captain Pleasant, how does it feel to be a non-flyer here?" The Army officer gives the man a hard look, then shrugs.

"Sir, I've been flying aircraft with the army for ten years, both fixed wing and rotary. If you think only the Air Force flies, why ain't you asking Lieutenants Burgess and Matlock the same question?" The reporter stumbles through a response about his rank before sitting again, red faced. Pleasant shakes his head and looks at Matlock, who unsuccessfully fights a smirk. Another reporter stands after a few moments hurried discussions with a colleague.

"Lieutenant Condon, I'm from the Washington Star. What did you do with the Air Force before you came here?"

"I guess I'm getting the easy questions huh?" The little man says, smiling widely. "I had five years as a fighter pilot, in the Sabre and Super Sabre, before moving into flight testing in '56. I've flown three different jets from prototype to production so far, though I guess that's gonna bit it for a while." The reporter laughs and the man smiles again. "Fast jets were my thing, and this is going to be a faster vehicle with a bigger engine."

The questioning goes on, the pilots giving more details and going into more depth about their military careers and the background which led to them applying for the opportunity at SREP. Jane and Harriet watched from the back of the room, watching Jepson picking the reporters who were going to ask the good questions, avoiding those from papers which had more radical biases, who might ask questions which led to uncomfortable answers.

"He's good. I'll give him that."

"I can't believe you hired him, Jane. He's so... arrogant. He's just horrible."

"Harriet, we need someone like him. SREP needs all the good publicity it can get, the whole ignoring the media thing was getting us nowhere."

"I get it, I really do, but come on, him? He's made passes at three of my staff already. Apparently flight planners are 'cute'." Jane turns and gives her a serious look.

"Is it causing a problem?"

"No... no, they brushed him off easily enough, but someone really needs to take him down a peg or two." Jane bites off a chuckle.

"You going to do it? Hattie, the great bruiser of men's ego's." The other woman blushes and pushes Jane playfully. "Oh come on, have you seen the looks you get when we walk around base? They look like lost puppies."

"Major, that's hardly appropriate." She says before grinning. "And no, not me. I'm just thinking aloud." She sighs before changing the subject. "That's them, then. The first humans we'll ever send into space."

"The first humans who'll reach space yes. One of them will be the first human to ever escape the atmosphere."

"Unless the German's get their first."

"We're going to beat them this time. I know it." Jane says, a determined look in her eye.

"Sure... Have you heard anything about them? I've not seen a news cutting in months."

"Nothing of any great detail. They're keeping everything under wraps. All I know is that the moon is an objective, but I have no idea how soon they're planning it. I imagine we have time, especially if we're aiming for crewed flight and they're not."

"I hope so. Missing out on the first satellite wasn't a great moment for SREP, you know that."

"I do. Now hush, they're almost done." She puts a finger to her lips and goes back to listening to the announcements from the stage.

"Thank you, thank you ladies and gentlemen of the press, for your insightful and challenging questions. I'm sure as time goes on you will have further opportunities to speak to them, perhaps even individually, if the Major lets them take a night off once in a while." He gives her a sly smile and she rolls her eyes before the reporters can turn to look at her. "And now, for the final time, I'd ask you for a final round of applause as we welcome the first ever astronauts who will go into space." The room descends into a calamitous noise and Jane and Harriet escape out the back door.

---

18th October 1958

Orbiter-6 was to be lofted into orbit late on the 18th, watched by many more than had seen SREP's last launch. Jane was pleased to not have to battle through numerous USAF troops and checkpoints in order to get to her own mission control room, even if she could understand the precautions. Of course, now the staff was joined by the six members of the very first astronaut class, here to watch their first rocket launch as part of SREP. Of course, they didn't know it yet, but the rocket launching Orbiter-6 was the very same one that would lift one of their number into space in just a few short months. Jane noticed them, sitting apart on the observation deck, already separating themselves from the non-flight crew. She knew that had to change, so she walked over to them.

"Nice afternoon for it." She said simply, after returning the salutes from the variously uniformed officers. "Glad you came down."

"Jeez, Major." Condon says after glancing at his compatriots. "The way you talk about it we might be playing golf." She shrugs, playing the confident professional.

"We've done launches like this one every month since we started, and we'll be doing more and more as we get closer to your launches." The man nods, and looks out at the pad.

"Something I wanted to ask, Major." Stewart, one of the two Air Force captains said sharply. Jane nodded for her to continue. "Your training program, I looked at it last night. If we're going to stay current we're going to need flight hours and I didn't see anything about that."

"Would you need to stay current if you stayed with SREP from now on?" The Captain pauses for a moment thinking.

"Well, no, but it would be unfortunate if something happened and we couldn't be returned to our parent squadrons."

"Fair point. I'll make contact with my service liaisons, try and schedule some hours for each of you. We can't cut much into it though, would it be easier if SREP acquired aircraft of its own?" A series of nods and shrugs. "I'll look into that as well. Listen, you six are SREP's priority right now. Anything you want, anything you need... Anything that's going to lead to success, I want to hear about it so we can make changes." They all nod again, looking more purposeful. She turns and walks back to watch Orbiter-6's launch.

It was lofted into the air with ease, eventually making orbit. However, once there, a staging problem left its engines engaged. They burned for far longer than what was intended, Jane, Harriet and the other Senior staff watching from the back of the Mission Control room. They had each taken the now familiar run down the stairs once the first signs of a problem arose, with only the Doctor lagging behind.

Orbiter-6 shot into the darkness, its malfunctioning motor speeding it far beyond anything that had been intended when the flight was planned. As the planet rotated, mission control lost contact with the payload, and the staff could only hope that the next time it came back it would be returning in a highly elliptical orbit. Their fear was that it would be heading even further out, escaping the earth's gravity well. The hope was a slight one, but they hoped nonetheless.

Over the next two days, their hope was proven to be in vain. The orbiter continued to travel out of the Earth's sphere of influence, occasionally sending back streams of information as it made contact with mission control. Finally though, two days after it was launched, contact was lost with Orbiter-6 for the last time, and it shot away into orbit around the brightly shining sun. It's path was just slightly offset to that of its planet of origin, enough so it would be years, perhaps centuries before they came close to encountering each other again.

Edited November 28, 2014 by HMS Sophia

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XXVI - Mercury Rising

2nd November 1958

Jane flicked through the thin file again, looking over the top of it after a few moments. Sitting across from her was the girl that Doctor Pickering had chosen to head up programs alongside the US Air Force, and the Major really did feel comfortable in calling her a girl. She looked barely old enough to be out of university, let alone to be heading up major projects in unison with one of the biggest military service branches in the world. She shrugged internally, trusting the Doctor's experience over her own first impressions.

"You understand the nature of the projects you'll be working on?" She asked, trying to be somewhat casual.

"Advanced, classified military payloads, no? Spy satellites and that sort of thing." The girl said rather bluntly.

"Exactly. Now, by the very nature of working here you're entitled to a certain level of clearance, but the military may require further assurances and background checks."

"Of course. I would be surprised if they hadn't started already."

"And you're not concerned?"

"I don't think I should be."

"I just figured, with your surname? I'm guessing you've already figured out exactly what it is the satellites are expected to spend their time looking at." Jane said, putting the file down and crossing her arms. The other woman smiles wanly, looking away for a moment.

"My surname? Hölzl has been my families name for generations, generations which lived in this country, Major. I hope you're not suggesting I have any... suspect ties." She says. Jane, unable to work out whether the girl is teasing her or being serious, blushes and shakes her head.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Hölzl, I hadn't meant to offend you." The other woman waves a hand, dismissing any unintended slight.

"You didn't. I know the question comes from a good place. And please, you can call me Kat." The Major stands, extending a hand to be shaken.

"Well then, Kat. Now that's sorted, I'm sure you have plenty to do? I have a note from the Doctor somewhere saying that the first production model of Cartographer is almost ready."

"By the end of the month, yes. I'm already looking at improvements to the design, if..."

"Keep the Air Force informed, and I'm sure I'll catch on." She smiles and the other woman returns it, finally shaking Jane's extended hand. She walks around her desk and open the door for the young woman, closing it behind her and sighing heavily. She shook her head and went back to her desk.

---

8th November 1958

"Chief?" Jane called out as she stepped into a small secondary hanger, recently constructed alongside the RAH. The room was sparkling, new paint and shining steel everywhere. In the middle of the room sat a three metre tall cone, black skinned and slightly ominous looking, with a single hatch hanging open. After another call, the Chiefs head emerged slowly from the hatch, breaking into a broad grin when he saw her. He hopped out and walked over, wiping his hands on a rag hanging from his belt.

"Hey Major. What'd'ya think?" He gestured to the object behind him.

"This is it then? It, uh... Seems awful small, Chief."

"Hey, you wanted it launched on an Ajax, this is what you're going to get. She'll be a little over a ton at full weight, almost at the limit of what Ajax is going to be able to lift." She nods and walks over too it, peering inside.

"So this is Mercury... You can't have got a flight model together this fast." She said over her shoulder.

"As much as I don't want you disparaging my abilities, you're right. This is for training the six kids you've decided to hire on. It's missing a bunch of external equipment, but all the buttons and switches are there inside."

"Mind if I..."

"Get in and have a go? Sure, go ahead. Just don't close the hatch. It sticks sometimes and I really don't want to have to cut my boss out of my machine." She laughs and hands him her jacket, before pulling off her shoes and climbing into the vehicle. She went head first and quickly realised her mistake. The hatch was as small as the rest of it, and it was at an unusual angle compared to the seat inside. She began to rotate herself around, using the edges of the pilot's window for leverage. After a moment she span, squeaked, and dropped into the bucked seat with a thump.

"You okay, Major?" The Chief said, his head appearing in the hatch.

"Fine, Chief. Just a bruised ego." She replied, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face. He nodded and stepped back again, giving her more light to look around.

Inside it seemed even smaller than it had done from the outside. There were panels, switches, equipment and other things all around her, giving her a very small amount of freedom to move. Her right hand found a control stick, her left another handle. She spent several minutes reading the hundred or so labelled switches and levers, marvelling over the level of thought the chief and his team had put into this already. She shook her head and grabbed either side of the hatch, pulling herself out much more gracefully than she'd got in.

"When will you have test articles ready?" She asked, once she'd put her shoes back on and rearranged her uniform.

"I'm hoping to be ready for atmospheric tests in... I'm hoping for five months. That's final aerodynamics testing, a working launch abort system, the descent and landing system, and we've still got to figure out how to make it easy for the Navy to recover them." He chuckles cynically. "Can hardly leave a pilot bobbing about for hours now, can we."

"Hardly, Chief. Okay, middle of next year for, what? Flight testing?"

"Yes Ma'am. Then we'll need to look at testing the re-entry conditions and so on. I'm afraid it's going to be a long while until we can think about crewed flights." She nods even as she frowns.

"Well, I guess it's lucky the Air Force are lending us some jets. Can't have the pilots getting bored now, can we." He smiles.

"Can I get back to it, Ma'am? I want this to be perfect before I show them."

"Go ahead, Chief. I'll see you later." She walks out of the small hangar, heading back to her office.

Edited November 29, 2014 by HMS Sophia

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XXVII - The Glowing Belts

12th November 1958

"Major?" The Doctor said from her office doorway, jerking her upright. She shook her head until he came into focus. "Is everything okay?"

"Hmm? Sorry Doc, I didn't sleep well last night." He tuts at her.

"Come now, you must sleep. Harriet's not keeping you awake is she?" He slowly breaks into a sly grin as he speaks, an expression she raises an eyebrow at.

"No Doc, no. She's not stayed at mine yet... And I've not seen her place either, before you start." He visibly bites back a chuckle, before shaking his own head.

"Well, I may not be a medical doctor, but if you can't sleep for much longer I'd suggest you do find one. We can't have our director asleep at her post now, can we?"

"I guess not. Sure, if I can't sleep I'll go find a doctor. Aren't we supposed to hire one soon? Maybe I'll just pick the first one to give me pills and let me get back to work." She stops herself, realising she's rambling. "Uh... Was there something you wanted Doc?" He holds up a folder and smiles.

"My report on Orbiter-6's operations until loss of contact. I thought you might like it hand delivered."

"Can you give me a summary? Sorry."

"Not to worry Major." He says, taking a seat and opening the folder. "I took the liberty of discussing the findings with my colleague in Iowa, and we confirmed it together. Earth has what appears to be two rings of charged particles, one at around one to six thousand kilometres, and the other between thirteen and sixty thousand. Now, I'd like to use another probe to confirm this, obviously, but we can quite confidently declare them found now."

"So these areas are radioactive?"

"Essentially. At the very least, they're highly inimical to human life. I would strongly suggest that when we do start flying people into space, we avoid these orbits for anything other than transitory efforts."

"Trans- Doc, where would we be flying that needs people to go further than a thousand kilometres?" The Major says, a laugh catching in her throat.

"Why, to other planets, of course." He says, as if it's obvious.

"Other planets... I think we're a ways off yet, Doc. But sure, Mercury will be staying well below that... flight ceiling. Don't worry." He smiles and nods, brushing off her dismissal of his idea.

"Okay." He rises and makes to leave. "Major, James and I are going to have to publish this data. The community needs to know about it." She waves a hand.

"Of course, Doctor. I've never tried to stop you."

"You realise it means the German program will benefit from it as well, then." She stops for a moment, then shakes her head.

"Doc, if we were worried about that we wouldn't have hired you. Publish what you need too. I'll take the flack."

"Thank you, Major. Good day." He steps out and shuts the door, as the Major sinks on to the cool surface of her desk, her eyes closing a moment later.

---

17th November 1958

The first flight of the production Cartographer payloads was as easy as the previous one. The minimally upgraded satellite was delivered into orbit, overseen by Hölzl and her staff. Booster decoupling and initial hardware power on were completed on time. This time, instead of an immediate transfer to Vandenburg, SREP's facilities conducted the first few tests to ensure it was function correctly. When the USAF finally got control, their freshly bought and delivered satellite was functioning perfectly and was on time to make it's first pass over Europe just a few hours later.

The second launch watched by the first class of astronauts, this was the first they'd seen without malfunction or partial failure. It quashed some of the doubts that had been growing about SREP's competency, and left them feeling slightly better about their combined futures with the program.

Hölzl was immediately analysing the information gathered in properly testing Cartographer-1-2. They hadn't had a chance on the first one, and she'd barely been involved in the flight stages anyway. But this time it was her game, and it had been run how she wanted it to be. And now she could begin working on the next, further improved version of the same satellite they had only just flown.

---

25th November 1958

Sitting in the back of a USAF truck with the six astronauts-in-training, Jane watched them as they travelled. They'd already begun forming bonds, even at this early stage in the process. The leaders, the two that the others looked to for orders, were already taking shape in the blue eyed Captain Harrison and more surprisingly in Matlock, though perhaps it shouldn't have been such a shock considering the bullish tenacity shining in her that the marines so prized. Condon had ensconced himself as the funny-man, both Stewart and Burgess had taken to quiet brooding. And Pleasant was, well, exceedingly polite at all times. The others had picked up on the informality that was part of SREP, but Pleasant had apparently taken it as a personnel affront that the other services weren't giving his Major the respect she deserved. Jane had shrugged it off, slightly bemused at the sharp clicks of his well polished boots when he snapped off a perfect salute whenever he saw her. She wished she could have introduced him to Harriet when she first joined, they'd have gotten along famously. Or perhaps she shouldn't have- She shrugged off the vaguely jealous notion and turned back to the truck.

"Okay, Ladies and Gents, today we've got a very special session as part of your training program. You're all test pilots, that's why you got chosen to join SREP, and I was firmly reminded early on that if you didn't fly, you'd not stay current." She held onto a part of the trucks metal frame as it braked hard, coming to a rest after a moment. She made a mental note to discuss the driver's training when she got a spare moment. "That's why we're here. Patrick AFB was a Naval air station during the war, and now it's an Air Force proving ground. Lucky for us, it has a pair of jet-rated runways as well, because it's now home to the first flight of SREP owned F-103's as well." The looks on their faces were almost childlike in nature, gleeful excitement the likes of which she hadn't seen since... well, since before rocket flights became something of a regular thing for SREP, at least.

She jumped down off the back of the truck, followed by the 6 pilots. Two of the big jets were on their hard stands, another pair could be seen in hangers behind them.

"We've got four single seat variants, bought wholesale from the Air Force. Another two are two seaters. Those unfamiliar with the type will be converting using those. The Air Force has very kindly supplied a few instructors to get you up to speed and in the air..." She looks around the small group, patiently listening. "I'm hardly the right person to be explaining these too you though. Captain Stewart, I believe these are your primary aircraft?" The woman nods once, sharply "If you could perhaps give us a briefing on it." She looks puzzled for a moment, then steps forward, exchanging places with the Major. She clears her throat.

"The F-103 Thunderchild is a single engined interceptor aircraft designed with the sole intent of shooting down strategic bomber formations vectored on the continental United States. Capable of cruising comfortably at around Mach 0.8, it can also surpass Mach 1 and approach Mach 2 at very high altitudes. With a high flight ceiling thanks to it's large wing area, it is projected to be capable of intercepting the next generation of jet powered strike bombers and fighter bombers as well. Like most other birds, it does have problems. At high speeds, heating can become a problem not only for the airframe but for the pilot as well. Insulated flight suits are required, not just suggested, if maintained flight above Mach 1 is expected. Also, it's landing gear is very narrow, and thus can create problems both when landing and taxiing. Remember to be careful when you're taking her off the hard stand, I've seen several tipped on to their wings by inexperienced pilots." The briefing comes as a steady drone of information, interesting but essentially unnecessary to Jane. What it does tell her though, is that the Captain is an experienced pilot, and a steady, calm one at that. She hadn't taken the opportunity to crow all of the aircraft's features with none of its faults, but had instead given them a balanced briefing with at least some of what they would all need to know in order to fly safely.

She left them to it as they started heading towards the plane. Her driver had pulled up a few moments after the truck, and she stepped into her car with a smile on her face. She knew the first two aircraft would be in the air less than an hour after she left. She hoped to beat them back to Canaveral.

---

Media:

A SREP F-103 on the hardstand

A SREP F-103 in flight, 25th November 1958, probably piloted by Captain Mark Harrison (USAF), picture taken by Captain Angela Steward (USAF)

Edited December 4, 2014 by HMS Sophia

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XXVIII - The Moon's new acquaintance

4th December 1958

"Beginne Hauptzündungssequenz"

"Zehn...Neun..."

"Alle Module grün, Rakete ist bereit"

"Sieben....Sechs..."

"Mondsonde 1 ist bereit zum Start"

"Vier....Drei..."

"Triebwerkszündung"

"Zwei...Eins...Start"

---

5th December 1958

"GDR announces new probe on path to hit the moon." Jane looked up at Arthur and frowned "Seriously? This is a lot earlier than we projected."

"It is Major, but from a certain viewpoint, it is encouraging."

"How could this possibly be encouraging? We couldn't do something like this if we wanted to-"

"I do not thing you're correct on that, but that is not my point. My point is that if they are focusing on the moon, it is unlikely they are progressing as rapidly as we are on manned flight." Jane is silent for a moment, before she drops the paper on the desk and stands.

"Okay, maybe you're right. Get the department heads together in... an hour. I need everyone in on this one." She pulls on her jacket and walks out of the office, barely giving him a second glance.

---

An hour later, Jane walked into the main meeting room the heads used whenever they needed to get together. They'd used it after every failed launch, analysing the conditions, and they'd used it occasionally to discuss the future. But this was the first time she'd seen everyone together since several new members joined their team. The room was packed, with the Doctor, Hölzl and Johnson on one side of the table, and Roth, Harriet and the Chief on the other. She took a seat at the head of the table, and tossed the newspaper into the centre.

"Everyone's seen it? Or heard about it, at least?" She says, without explanation. A few of the others exchange confused looks before the Doctor's eyes widen in realisation.

"The German launch? Yes, of course I heard about it. I have to say, I'm very excited to see if anything comes of it. Knowing the scientific community in Europe, it will bring some excellent data back." Jane gives him a stern look. "I'm sorry, Major, but I can only be overjoyed to see that Germany is taking a different route into space than us. Perhaps the lack of experience on each will bring us closer together and I can finally speak to the Berlin Institute again."

"You know the Doc's got a point" Johnson cuts in, though he raises his hand as the Major turns her glare at him. "Not on the co-operation, I know you're gonna have qualms over that. No, I mean the 'different route into space' thing. It could be a good way to spin it, that we admire Germany's focus on the moon, though currently SREP is exploring different avenues for the... I'm rambling, but you get my point." She nods at him, leaning forward.

"I do, it sounds appropriate for the press at least. But what does it actually mean to us? That they're supposedly managing a moon shot."

"It means that they are unquestionably outstripping us in booster development." Katharina Hölzl says, adjusting her glasses. "And from that, we can be almost certain that their military missile technology likely is more advanced than our own. Ignoring that though, it means they have considered space-flight beyond Low Earth Orbit, which might suggest they are considering flights outside of our own planets sphere of influence as well. They are ahead of us Major, in more ways than one."

"Then how do we catch up?"

"I don't think we need to." The Chief says, drawing everyone's attention to him.

"You... what? Chief, come on. We're not gonna last long if we're always lagging behind."

"We aren't though. Look, look at this rocket" The chief says, pointing to the front page of the paper. Emblazoned across it is a picture of the German rocket that launched their probe. "That's a pretty simple three stage booster. Orbiter-6's launcher can already do exactly the same thing. Hell, we proved it by flying that mission all the way out into nowhere. Now, I might need to fiddle with Finckley's booster if you want anything more than a flyby, but dammit there's no reason we couldn't do it."

"Sure, but they've got it together already and it's custom built for it." The chief makes a rude noise at Johnson's protest.

"We don't want custom built, we want generic. The more stuff we can fly on one booster design, the cheaper it'll get. I'm thinking about our bottom line, not what looks pretty, son."

"Boys!" The Major says, loud enough to make them look at her "That's enough. Chief, I want a report on how much you think you can do with current equipment. Full write-up, not guess work and maybes. Johnson, you're gonna get started on a press release. Be nice to the Germans. We may not get along very well, but if we can get closer to their scientific sides, maybe we can learn a little something."

"Thank you, Major," The Doctor says, leaning back in his chair, relaxing slightly. "That means a lot to this old man."

"I'm afraid it's not entirely for you Doc. I doubt the White House would look kindly on us insulting them when we have such a tense relationship. Even so, if we can't throw words, lets throw probes. Think you can design something that will return useful information from deep space?"

"Certainly, especially when Harriet's relay network is established."

"Good. Start thinking then. Dismissed, everyone, lets get back to work." She stands, and the others follow suit. She raises a hand, stopping Harriet from leaving with the others. Once the door finally closes behind them, she wraps her arms around the other woman, a move that is reciprocated immediately.

"Missed you." Harriet says quietly in her ear.

"Maybe you should have come home with me last night then." Jane whispers back, pulling her in tight. A moment later the hug is broken and Harriet has her arms folded, looking at the floor.

"Jane, I... you know..." She looks up, her face a deep red.

"I know, Hattie. We're taking things slow."

"I'm new to this, Jane. Not just you, but... people. Relationships. I don't want to mess things up..."

"You're not going to, I promise you." Jane lifts the woman's chin, kisses her softly. "I have an idea. Are you going home for Christmas?"

"Huh? No, uh... The constellation will be up by then I hope, I'll need to be near base to monitor it spreading."

"Good. You're coming to mine Christmas Day."

"Jane, I just said-"

"I know exactly what you just said. I promise I'll be good." She raises her hands, palms out, and grins. "No funny business." Harriet is obviously hesitant, but eventually she nods.

"Okay. Sure. Want me to bring anything?"

"You, and something cute to wear. Maybe red? Tis the season, and so on." They share a smile, and another kiss, slower this time.

"Sure. Can't wait." She giggles, and walks out of the room, still blushing bright red. Jane just shakes her head and follows slowly.

---

6th December 1958

"... Once again, we'd like to take this opportunity to congratulate our German friends in their endeavours to explore space. It is simply amazing that they have achieved this as this year comes to a close. Ten years ago, humanity sending a machine out to our eternal companion would be nothing more than a dream, but now the GDR has managed to fly their 'Mondsonde' all the way there with little more effort than they would placing a satellite in orbit. And we here at SREP would also like to make clear how pleased we are that the American and German projects are taking such divergent paths in their efforts to explore space. While Germany aims for that planetoid that circles our own planet, we take the first steps to human space-flight. Perhaps one day, Germany and the USA will work together, bringing our unique viewpoints to a project that will exceed anything either of us could achieve on our own. But for now, we simply have congratulations, and a further push to achieve more than we ever though we could have. Thank you, Ladies and Gentlemen of the Press."

With that, Johnson steps down from the podium and heads back into the office behind the press room. Their work done, the journalists and press staff make their hurried exits, heading for the nearest telephones or offices in order to get their stories printed first.

---

7th December 1958

As the seventh day of the month came to a close, Mondsonde-1 skimmed the surface of the moon incredibly closely. Three and a half days after it had been launched from an equatorial pad in former French territory, it shot over the surface at a blistering two and a half kilometres per second. At one point it was just nine kilometres from the rocky surface, much closer than any of its designers had ever expected it to come. In truth, Mondsonde-1 was even more successful than anyone could have imagined, as it emerged from behind the moon and began broadcasting all of the data it had collected while it was hidden from view. It had gotten closer, and gathered better information than had been projected, and it showed when that data came in. Perhaps most importantly, it sealed the launch of Mondsonde-2 in a few months time.

---

Media:

Mondsonde-1 on the pad, picture released by GDR

Two separate artists impressions of Mondsonde-1 close to the Moons surface

Edited December 4, 2014 by HMS Sophia

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XXIX - As Saturn, So Earth

12th December 1958

The Chief walked into her office with a spring in his step and a smile on his face. He slapped a folder of papers down onto her table and almost threw himself into the chair opposite her, grinning the whole time.

"Yes, come in Chief, good morning Chief." Jane says, looking up at him and frowning. "You look pleased with yourself."

"Sure am, Ma'am." He nods at the folder on his desk. "That's my report about the possibility of a lunar mission from SREP."

"It's good news I take it?" He nods vigorously.

"We can replicate the German success with current equipment, if we wanted too." He leans forward, opening his folder and flipping through it to some concept drawings. "Using an Ajax as a primary booster, and a Finckley type secondary booster as a third stage, we have more than enough rocket to send a reasonably small payload on a lunar flyby. As I said in the meeting, it's simply a case of aiming once we're up there." Jane turns the folder, looking over the designs.

"How much of a payload?" She says, flicking through the report.

"A few hundred kilograms would be around the maximum. I wouldn't like to try much more, and I like to imagine the Doc wouldn't need much more to do something useful."

"You're not sure?" She gives him a hard look. "Chief, I need-"

"I'm going to be sure," He says, interrupting her, his smile breaking for the first time since coming into her office. "But I want to see Orbiter-7 fly first. We haven't really tested the Finckley with Ajax. I think that's why Orbiter-6 failed."

"I don't think the Doc would have called it a failure. You should have seen his face when he was talking about what he'd found." The Chief laughs, his smile coming back.

"So what do you think, Major? Are we going to be flying to the moon?" He says after a moments silence. She frowns, and takes a moment to think. Eventually she sighs and his face drops again.

"Chief... SREP's committed to putting an astronaut in space, yes?" He nods. "The training, purchasing of equipment and construction of facilities is taking a huge amount of our budget and we're not even flying tests yet. We bought six cutting edge fighter jets just last month, and if that doesn't tell you something, I'm not sure what will."

"That's a no then." The Chief says simply.

"Chief... It's not that I don't want too. I would love to approve it, I would love to see SREP bringing back data from the moon. But right now, it's not our priority and it won't be until we have a larger budget. We have bigger things on our plate."

"Meanwhile the German's are racing ahead of us and showing us up to the rest of the world."

"Meanwhile, Chief, we've had no reports of the German's looking at crewed flight. Meanwhile, we are planning the biggest breakthrough in rocketry since we began flying. Meanwhile, we're going to beat them to one of the most prestigious missions possible." The Chief is silent for a long moment, scratching his chin and looking away.

"I'm never going to win an argument against you, am I."

"Not while congress controls our budget Chief. And between you and me, not until after the next election. The incumbent isn't our biggest fan."

"So I've heard. You'll read my report though?"

"I'll take it to bed tonight, Chief. I'd like to see it happen as much as you."

"Thanks, Major. I'll see you later." He leaves the room quietly, his mood lower than it was when he came in. Jane frowned, uncomfortable with having had to dress him down so sharply. She shook her head to clear it before picking his report up. It was sure to make interesting reading.

---

19th December 1958

Harriet stood at the head of the room, looking over the assembled senior SREP staff. She was flushed red, visibly nervous at addressing the group despite her position in the hierarchy. Jane caught her eye and smiled warmly before winking at her. The other woman went even redder, a feat the Major hadn't thought possible, before coughing to hide a giggle. Eventually everyone settled down, and Harriet leaned forwards to catch their attention.

"Good morning everyone. I've been asked to present the plan for Constellation 1's flight, before the launch later this week. Constellation 1 is an extension of the Relay program that I've managed since it's inception several months ago." She clears her throat, using the moments silence to open a folder in front of her. "Constellation 1 is intended to be a ring of Relay satellites, occupying a single orbit around the earth. Launched on a single Ajax rocket, eight satellites of a new design will arrange themselves around this orbit using a combination of time and minute quantities of thrust provided by a mono-propellant manoeuvring system. Using a new long range omnidirectional antenna, these satellites will provide a constant communications link to satellites in low orbital paths, and to ground stations." She gives a small smile and looks up from her notes for the first time. "No more waiting for satellites to be overhead until we can take data from them." She turns a page before continuing. "Actual antenna range is projected to be around 10,000 kilometres, so it gives us more flexibility than is suggested by the satellites altitude and the intended usage..." She trails off, looking up after a few seconds of silence. "Has anyone got any questions?"

"So... sorry, how exactly are the satellites being distributed?" The Chief says, trying to sketch on the pad in front of him. Harriet nods at him before speaking.

"Essentially each probe is equipped with a tiny mono-propellant motor, or rather, a set of them. Something like the descent modules on the Doctor's tests and on the Air Force return packages."

"And they're going to survive however long it takes for these satellites to drift into the correct orbits?"

"I see no reason that they won't. Given that it will be about two to three weeks at the most for the satellites to move into their positions, and the Air Force systems were projected to last at least a month, the Relay systems should be fine."

"Will this give everything in orbit constant communication with us?" The Doctor said, obviously concerned for his scientific platforms.

"Well... out to a certain range, and as long as they aren't polar crossing or near-polar crossing orbits then yes. We'd need another ring to cover the entirety of the high orbital paths, maybe even two. And of course additional parts of the network would be used to provide long range communication, for instance too the moon. Constellation-1 is simply the first major part of the infrastructure."

"That's a very big plan you've got there..." The Doctor says, sounding almost doubtful.

"Says the man who's been conspiring with Chief Marshall about sending a probe to the moon." Jane's head snaps up at that, levelling a lethal glare at the Doctor and her Chief engineer. The Chief mutely stares at his notepad, though the Doctor has the manners to blush profusely, tugging gently at his beard before replying.

"Well... I suppose I had better just keep quiet before you reveal any more of my secrets, hadn't I." Harriet nods, a sly grin crossing her face before it's replaced by a judgemental frown.

"If there's nothing else then, I have to double-check the flight plans." Harriet stands, and walks out, followed by most of the others. Jane, the Chief and the Doctor stay behind, seated still. The Major glares at them both, daring one of them to break the silence. The Doctor finally does;

"Major... We simply thought, if we could present a plan, a low cost proposal-"

"No." She says, quiet but enough to cut him off. "No, you thought that you could go behind my back and fly a mission. What was it going to be? If I refused this plan, was Orbiter-8 just going to 'accidentally' reach the moon? I'm sure we had a conversation about trust. I need to be able to trust you, to design my rockets and to give me the information I need. The two of you are such key elements in SREP, and you're making me not want to trust you."

"Major, we just thought-" The Chief starts.

"No, Chief, you didn't think at all. That's the problem. You realise that if SREP was a military department, rather than just lead like one, you'd both be up on charges right now." She pauses, watching them whiten slightly. "Good. You both understand quite how seriously I'm taking this. This is not a joke gentlemen. You don't get to do what you like just because you don't like what I said. I don't even care if you were just looking at this proactively and hypothetically. I said no. In the Navy, a ship's Captain is God. On this base, as much as I'm friendly, as much as I try to be approachable, I am much the same. The next time you do anything like this, you're done. Contracts ended, access cancelled, I hope you have good prospects elsewhere. Am I understood?" The pair nod, the Doctor still white faced. She felt she'd been too harsh for a moment but put the thought out of her head. "Good. Get out and get back to the work you should be doing." They leave, the Chief striding away without a word, the Doctor going more slowly, his cane clicking on the tiled floor.

---

Media:

Blueprint of Ajax's upper stage carrying the Constellation payload

Isometric drawing of Relay-3, the main component of Constellation-1

Edited December 8, 2014 by HMS Sophia

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XXX - A Constellation Emplaced

21st December 1958

The Ajax rocket carrying the eight satellites of Constellation-1, the first part of a major space infrastructure project, lifted itself from LC-6 late in the afternoon of the 21st of December. Luckily for the launch team at SREP, the sky had been clear all day and the temperature had slowly risen out of the icy depths of winter and into a relatively mild afternoon, thus allowing the rocket to fly. The heavy first stage lifted it into the upper atmosphere before detaching and dropping away, falling to its destruction in the mid-Atlantic ocean along with the payloads fairings. The second stage took over, completing the rockets journey into orbit and burning until it's path would take it all the way out to 2500 kilometres above the surface. A half orbit later as it approached it's highest altitude it fired for a second time. The Launch team watched with baited breath as the booster stopped firing right on time and left the payload in a perfect orbit. Now though, now came the complex part of the mission.

"How long until deployment?" Jane says, leaning over to whisper in Harriet's ear. They had watched the entirety of the launch from the now cramped Mission Control bunker. Equipment had taken over, filling the room with cables and wiring and the noises of an incredible amount of screens. People were everywhere, more than she had ever seen before, though it seemed most were still only there to watch, as they had almost every other time a rocket went up. Jane had almost thrown them out, remembering her earlier rules which appeared to have been forgotten, but let it slide this once. Most of them, at least, had been involved in the project in some way. It was only fair to let them see it come to fruition.

"A few minutes." Harriet glances at the clock on the wall as she speaks. "Decoupling, then hardware power on and equipment tests."

"Feeling nervous?"

"This is my grand project. I doubt the Navy will give me another chance if this goes wrong, even with you fighting my corner. It's no wonder I've been so tense, is it." Jane turns and smiles at the woman, putting a hand on top of the white knuckled one gripping the arm of her chair. Harriet gives her a brief look then returns to staring at the screen. Jane follows her gaze, tuning into the sound of the Control room.

"Time to first decoupling?" Lieutenant Howarths says, looking across the room from his board.

"Twenty seconds." TSgt Peter Mitchum, the newest addition to the Mission Control staff says without looking up. "Three... Two... One... Release." he says, counting down the last seconds of Relay-3-1's attachment to it's parent booster.

"Beginning power on sequence." Madeleine Smith, flight plan. There's is a long pause. "Nothing. I'm getting no return from the first satellite."

"You're kidding me." Sam marches over to her station. "Try it again."

"I'm telling you Sam, it's not working" She replies, punching buttons. "I'm getting nothing."

"Fine, fine... okay, keep trying whenever you get a minute. Maybe something will click. Sarge, time to second decoupling?"

"Two minutes, twenty-four seconds." He says, frowning. "Hey LT, three-one could interfere with three-four's decoupling if we're not careful."

"Good thinking. Keep an eye on it. But stay focused. Lottie, can you manage three-one? Madeleine needs to work on the next one." The woman nods, stepping around her own console and taking over the one in front if it, a replica of the other woman's.

"Three-two decoupling in three... two... one... Release."

"Beginning power on... Telemetry acquired, three-two is active. Beginning unfold sequence."

"Four minutes to three-three decoupling."

"Firing thrusters... Three-two is clear of payload, active and away." A murmur of self-congratulation goes through the room, ignoring the failure of the first satellite.

"Hey Sam, three-one still unresponsive."

"Leave it for now, go back to your board. I want three-two monitored, and the others once they're away."

The third and fourth relay satellites go much the same way of the second, totally successful and drifting away from the booster with the few metres per second velocity provided by a brief burst from their manoeuvring system. The fifth proved to be the one to break their string of successes however.

"Three-five has decoupled."

"Beginning power on sequence... And we have it. Unfolding panels, extending antennae." Lottie says, her voice a clear tone above the general murmur of the room.

"Three-six decoupling in two minutes, thirty five seconds."

"Firing thrusters... Repeating firing sequence..." A moments pause. "Sam, critical failure. No change in velocity, no reading from the accelerometer. Looks like the thrusters haven't fired." Same lets out a brief sigh.

"Fine, move on. Three-six is deploying in a moment."

"Three-six decoupling in ten seconds." The sixth satellite, and the seventh, both deploy easily and without problems. Five out of seven functioned perfectly, and Jane considered two losses to at least be salvageable. She knew from talking to Harriet that it would still work, especially with three-five still essentially functional. Lucky for them, their hopes didn't rest on the last of the satellites.

"Three-eight decoupling in three... two... one..." Mitchum says, before looking at his board again. "I... LT, problem. Three-eight hasn't released."

"Run the sequence again, might be a transmission error."

"Yessir. Three, two, one... No go, three-eight is still attached."

"Jeez... okay, dump all your boards data at the failure points. Lottie and Mitchum will give you timings. But keep them running, we're monitoring full time on this one ladies and gents."

People started to drift away from the Control room as they realised the exciting part of the mission was coming to an end. Now they simply had to wait several days for the satellites to drift into their correct orientations, re-fire their thrusters, and align their solar panels with the sun. Then Constellation-1 would finally be in place, transmitting data and keeping SREP in contact with anything it launched in future.

---

Media:

Constellation-1's booster after releasing Relay-Three-One and Three-Two

Edited December 10, 2014 by HMS Sophia

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XXXI - A Shooting Southern Star

8th January 1959

The first launch of SREP's third year of operations left a hollow feeling in the guts of many, coming so soon after the near loss of Constellation-1. An Ajax rocket, carrying the second production model of the cartographer satellite was lifted off the pad, dropping its nose to point north and speeding up the nations eastern seaboard. It was angled slightly out to sea, as the previous launches had been, a safety measure that prevented the rocket crashing down into populated areas and instead landing in the ocean should anything go wrong with the launch. It wasn't the most efficient launch for a polar orbit, but it was all SREP could do unless the Air Force was minded to build launch facilities at Vandenberg, or other opportunities became available on the west coast.

The decoupling of the first stage went just as planned, falling into the North Atlantic as the second stage ignited and propelled the satellite even faster, sending it further out of the atmosphere. It burned for several long minutes, before finally shutting down in preparation for separation and the final stage to bring the payload into its final orbit. Except it didn't happen. The second stage refused to separate from the payload despite repeated attempts by the launch control team. For several tense minutes members of the flight team, the engineers and the mission control staff tried everything they could to separate the two piece of equipment, up to and including transmitting the ignition sequence for the payload's motor. However the safety mechanisms that prevented an accidental firing on the pad were functional until the upper stage of the Ajax decoupled and so that was more of a desperate hope rather than a seriously proposed solution, leaving alone the possible unprojected impact of firing a rocket motor into a still-attached fume filled fuel tank.

The flight didn't even last half an hour of the projected seventeen day mission. As the payload crossed over the South Pole, it experienced the first tugs of the upper atmosphere. Like a bullet, it shot into the atmosphere at several thousand metres per second. It slammed through the thicker bands, the smooth fairing turning first red, then orange as friction heated it far beyond anything that been expected of it when it was designed. A matter of seconds after it started glowing it broke away, the pieces scattering behind the descending rocket in a tail of burning pieces, followed immediately by elements of the return module. Oriented the wrong way for it's re-entry pad to have any effect, the delicate components tore away in moments. Cartographer-1-2 became the latest meteor to cross the South Indian Ocean until, falling fast and glowing still, it hit the oceans surface and tore into a thousand unidentifiable pieces.

---

9th January 1959

"Chief, this is hardly the first one that's had a problem." Jane said, fighting the urge to raise her voice. They were in her office, arguing about the recent failures over several flights. She didn't blame him, not specifically, but the fault lay with the engineering department. It was their responsibility to ensure the reliability of the equipment, after all.

"Listen, mistakes are going to get made when people are pushed. We're flying more rockets than we ever have, and they're large, complicated pieces of machinery." he was wringing his hands, but she could tell it wasn't an action done out of remorse or upset, but rather a way to hide his frustration.

"I understand that, but we can't have them happen. The relay program couldn't continue without the success of Constellation-1, and that almost didn't happen. Yesterday we lost an Air Force payload. Chief, we rely on them for a good chunk of our funding, what if we lost that? What if they decide they can do it better themselves?."

"How am I supposed to help that? My teams are solid, the occasional mistake-" Jane interrupts him as he waves his arms dismissively.

"The occasional mistake has to stop happening. These are problems with a direct link to your department. This is a component failure, on a piece of equipment which is key for safety measures. What if we had a launch abort and the bolts didn't fire? We could have a rocket headed for a residential area and be unable to stop it." His face drains of colour, a wide eyed look crossing it. He pauses before speaking again.

"I… Look, I'll look into the procedures for launch prep." He sighs heavily. "I think I need more middle management."

"You've been running everything, haven't you." He nods, smiling tiredly. "Some re-organisation wouldn't go amiss then? The Doctor has shuffled some of his work onto Hölzl, maybe you could do the same?"

"I'll certainly think about it. Can we meet again towards the end of the month?"

"Sure, Chief." She smiles at him. He stands and walks out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

---

12th January 1959

Jane looks up as her office door opens. She'd been expecting the man's appearance since the failure of the latest Cartographer mission a few days earlier, and had been warned of his cars arrival a few minutes earlier. She was glad of the time to prepare herself, already expecting a somewhat gruelling conversation to come.

"Colonel Taft. Good morning, would you like to take a seat?" She says, putting aside some papers and crossing her arms.

"Major Wolcott. I expect you know why I've come?" He says, removing his jacket and taking a seat carefully.

"Cartographer." She states plainly.

"Exactly. This failure is one in a string of problems that have faced the program, and it's not looking good for SREP's management of the hardware and initial flight stages. To be blunt, Major, there are comments being thrown around questioning the validity of having a civilian organisation even assisting in an Air Force program."

"A string of failures? As far as I know this was the first launch issue."

"Perhaps, but it's not just about the launch, is it? Neither the first nor the second satellite returned any usable images. In fact the first didn't return anything at all. The capsule your good Doctor designed never reached the ground, other than perhaps some pieces that didn't happen to ignite as they returned."

"I'm sorry for your losses, Colonel," The Major uncrossed her arms, leaning forwards and resting them on the table. "But like any program, yours is experiencing some teething pains. That's not surprising. Losses in the second stage of the flight, after the transfer to Vandenberg, are the Air Forces problem, not SREP's. If you have provable mechanical or hardware faults, we will address them, but bad pictures are nothing to do with us."

"Be that as it may Major, we believe there is a problem in the processes Doctor Pickering is using to complete the Cartographer hardware."

"Colonel, first let me assure you that the hardware we fly is the best that could be produced by any organisation in the country, including the military." She says, giving him a hard look. "And secondly, the Doctor is no longer directly involved in the Cartographer program. Katharina Hölzl has been chosen to replace him, and she's yet to put a foot out of place." She can almost feel the man's glare, irritated that he'd been caught out without the most up to date information.

"Very well. Even so, we're sending an Air Force officer to support any operations that involve Air Force funding here at SREP. Expect him within a week."

"The only operation you fund, Colonel, is Cartographer. I hope this lackey of yours isn't going to be trying to stick his nose into our own programs."

"Not what I meant to imply, Major Wolcott. Decisions are being made in the upper echelons that I have no influence over, even if I do believe that mistakes will be made. As I say, expect our man inside a week. Good bye, Major." He turns and leaves without another word, not that the Major would have given him any. The Air Force had guaranteed that the running of Cartographer was SREP's business from construction to flight, and now they were trying to stick their noses in. She sighed and put her head in her hands. This was starting to become political, which wasn't what she'd joined the Army for. And what had he meant by that last remark? Did they want to bring SREP in on another project? She had half a mind to refuse it without even thinking about it, if that's what it was. She sighed again, already tired and the day had barely begun. She pulled her paperwork back to the centre of her desk, and went back to work.

Edited December 12, 2014 by HMS Sophia

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XXXII - Program Shake-up

18th January 1959

"As far as I understood, I was to be overseeing the program." The Air Force captain said, frowning as they walked towards the research building.

"I'm afraid you've been fed duff Intel, Captain. I was told we were receiving you to act in an advisory manner." Major Wolcott kept their pace rapid. The day was cool and the tone of the conversation was cooler.

"Advice and oversight, correct. Those in my chain considered it inappropriate for a civilian to be in charge of such an important military program." He nods as he talks, his skinny neck bobbing back and forth.

"Your chain of command is not mine. The Air Force has given SREP full control over the construction and initial flight operations of this program in return for provision of expertise in those areas. That means they don't get to appoint people to my staff."

"Then why exactly am I here, Major, if not to take control of what I have been told is a rapidly failing operation." He says, disdainfully. A flash of irritation cross the Major's face before she manages to pull it back too one of neutrality.

"If you would like to make it through the day I would suggest you don't refer to the Cartographer program like that in front of Ms Hölzl." She says, her voice cold. She stops him before they walk into the building, grabbing him by the sleeve. "You are here to provide accountability of SREP's conduct in the continued running of the program. You will observe, you will ask questions, and you will under no circumstance interfere unless you have something useful to add. If you make it difficult for the program to run effectively, you will be removed from the base and from any other SREP property. Do I make myself understood, Captain." He looks down at her hand on his sleeve, frowns and huffs.

"I understand. I hope you understand that this conversation will be reported like any other." Jane fights the urge to smirk.

"Please Captain, go ahead." She gestures to the door. "Shall we?" He opens the door and strides in, not bothering to hold it for her. She overtakes him in the entranceway, leading them into the research section of the building and finally into one of the two main payload construction and research rooms. Sitting on a table in the centre of the room is a Cartographer return package, it's pad resting on the reinforced steel workbench. In one corner, near the huge shuttered doors at the back of the building, is one of the two fairing sections that will cover the package and protect the delicate internal workings from the rigours of space until the time came for separation and return. A young woman in the apparently requisite white lab coat of the research staff stepped away from her testing and came up to the two officers.

"Major, good to see you again. You really must come down here more." Katharina Hölzl says, smiling before turning to the man in blue. "Ah. We have yet to be introduced." She extends a hand as he drags his eyes away from the equipment scattered around the room.

"Captain Hazlett, US Air Force. I'll be…" he glances at the Major as he shakes Katharina's hand "Observing your work here."

"Oh, my military nanny. I wondered when you would arrive." The Captain explodes into splutters, and Jane has to turn away to hide her amusement. "Major, if you'll excuse us? I'd like the show the Captain around." She nods and can only watch as Hölzl turns and swiftly walks away, leaving Hazlett to catch her up. Immediately she is reeling off information about the program and it's progress. Jane leaves the room slightly bemused. She hoped the Captain would be able to keep up.

---

25th January 1959

"Chief, come-" The Major stops, frowning at the man standing in her office doorway. She'd only very rarely seen him wear a suit in the two years in which she'd known him and never voluntarily. "Has somebody died?" He steps into the room, closing the door and taking a seat opposite her before speaking.

"No, Major, but I thought it appropriate. You asked me to consider a shake-up in the engineering department?" She nods.

"You've come to a decision then? What do you need?"

"I…" He hesitates. "Essentially I'd like to step back as direct head of the department. I have a plan in which several sub-departments are established to manage different aspects of construction and design, each with their own heads. The hangar chief would be tasked solely with the assembly of booster components and the final attachment of payloads, and someone else would take on the Mercury Construction Building and the assembly and testing of any crewed flight modules. Another team would be put together to focus on the design and development of future equipment for the program." There's a moment of silence as Jane thinks over what he's said. She makes a quick note on a pad next to her before looking back up.

"Where will you be after all this, Chief?"

"As I said, I'd be stepping back from the day to day management. I'd like to set up an office in the engineering building and take a more abstract role, in which I could assist when needed but generally focus more on the overall decisions for my teams."

"Well, I'm happy to let you do it, but I'm a little confused as to why you'd be stepping back completely. You're happy, aren't you?"

"Sure, I'm happy. But I can't manage everything anymore, and I need to delegate. As to why that delegation is complete, for one thing I can't make any one department look more important than the others. Secondly… Me and the Doc, we made a big mistake on trying to plan a moon shot without your go ahead. I accept that, but damn was it exciting. Taking a great leap into things…" He looks wistful for a moment before shaking his head. "I want to look at developing for the future, and I mean the distant future. Who knows where we'll be two, five, ten years down the line, I certainly don't. But I want to start looking at what sort of development we'll need for those times, and this move will give me the freedom to do so. I've got plenty of capable managers-in-training under me, the department will thrive even if I only show my face occasionally. Meanwhile, I can look at the big picture." He smiles, relaxing for the first time, and she returns it.

"Sounds good to me Chief. Or do I start calling you Mr Marshall." He laughs, obviously more comfortable. It seemed to Jane that he had finally found an explanation that satisfied him, as much as one for her. "Okay, to business then. Who do you have in mind for the… three department chiefs?"

"I'm giving Finckley the Assembly Hangar. He's been my second since the early Orbiter problems and not only does he deserve it, but he's damn good." The Major nodded, remembering the man from the development of the RL-3's booster more than a year ago. "The MCB will be handed off to Fraser Harman. He's been obsessed with the place since we first built it, and I doubt there's anyone better even outside of SREP. As for development… it's a harder one. It might not be the most popular choice, but Julia Kehoe has the right temperament for the role. She's junior though, and some of the more experienced guys might decide they've been done."

"I'll back your choice. If anyone decides to have a problem with it, I can always take notice." He nods his thanks. "What do you plan for them to focus on? The design team, I mean. I'm assuming you have plans for them."

"Absolutely I do, though initially plans would be relatively modest. The proposed projects would be twofold, the first to redesign the Finckley booster into something intended for long periods of exposure to the effects of deep space and still be useful, and to also look at an advance on the Ajax design. I'll be looking at the next phases of development personally, then pass those on once the team has managed to form complete proposals for the current projects." The Major pauses in her writing, smiling at him.

"You're looking forward to this, aren't you." He scoffs, but she can see his amusement in his eyes. "Okay Chief, I'll approve the changes. I can't wait to see what you can bring to the table."

"Thanks Major. I'm sure things will run much more smoothly once everyone settles in." he stands and walks out, almost jogging into the corridor.

Edited December 12, 2014 by HMS Sophia

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XXXIII - A Pilot on the Edge

10th February 1959

"Hey, Burgess?" The radio crackles, carrying the other man's voice into his fighter cockpit. "I've got a bit of a problem." Max glanced over, doing a fast visual check of the aircraft off his port wing.

"Looks good from here, Gerry. What's up?"

"I'm getting zero thrust. Engine failure maybe. Can you take a look?"

"Sure. Hold position." Max says, resettling himself in his seat. He drops the nose of his fighter slightly, dipping down until Condon's plane is twenty feet over his port wing. He uses the rudder to slide underneath him, eyes locked on the engine cowling at the back of the F-103. He comes back up on the other side, using a touch of additional thrust to take up a proper formation position, now to Condon's port side. He clicks his radio on again. "Nothing on the outside. No smoke, no holes. How's your fuel?"

"Fuel's fine, got a half tank left. Engine restart is a no-go, I'm going to try and windmill it."

"Roger that. I'm on you." The leading fighters nose dips, gaining speed as it descends, Max's fighter following it down. Attempting to windmill start the engine, to use speed and the denser air at low altitude to rotate the compressor blades and get it burning again was a distant hope considering their already high airspeed, but it was worth trying anything.They dropped a few thousand feet, bring them down below 20,000 feet before levelling out again. Max clicked his radio on.

"Any Joy?"

"Nothing. I'm flying fine though. Stick is a little heavy. Wait one." Max hears the clunk of radio switches being thrown, the sounds of Condon patching into Patrick AFB's Control channel. "Mayday, mayday, mayday, Patrick AFB, SREP-4 F-103, engine failure, 19,000 feet descending heading zero-niner-five."

"SREP-4, Patrick AFB, ETA and fuel remaining." The response comes after a moments silence.

"2500lbs fuel load, ETA to Patrick is... thirty minutes."

"SREP flight, continue approach on runway-zero-two, it will be clear upon arrival. You have priority."

"Thank you, Patrick. See you soon."

---

The Major jumps slightly as the phone begins to ring, breaking her out of her focus on her work. Dropping her pen she picks up the phone, leaning back in her chair.

"Major Wolcott speaking... A situation?" She grabs a pad and starts taking hurried notes, her face dropping. "I understand, yes. I'll be done as soon as possible." She drops the phone onto the hook and takes a deep breath. "Corporal!" She calls out, waiting until they look around the door frame.

"Major? What do you need?"

"My Car. I need to be at Patrick twenty minutes ago."

"Yes Ma'am. I'll bring it around." The Corporal steps out of the room, and the major can hear their footsteps as they jog away.

Three minutes later they're in the car, racing away from Canaveral and along the coast road towards Patrick AFB.

---

Twenty five minutes from Condon's announcement of a mayday situation, the Major is standing in the tower, a set of glasses to her eyes. Everyone bar the traffic controllers is doing the same, trying to spot the pair of interceptors approaching the base. She listens vaguely to the back and forth between pilot and controller.

"SREP-4, have you got visual?"

"Affirmative, control. I'm lined up on runway-zero-two. Permission to approach?"

"Begin final SREP-4. Runway is clear."

Jane follows an imaginary line from the end of the runway inland, finally spotting the two fighters. Flying in close formation a couple of kilometres away, they are coming in low and quicker than she thought they normally would. She watched the nose swing back and forth slowly, lining up on the narrow runway. A hatch opened, the nose wheel dropping out, followed by the two near the tail. The nose came up a few times, trading speed for a little more height as the plane came to within a few hundred metres of the runway.

The end must have taken only a few seconds, but it seemed to last for hours when watched through a pair of binoculars. The nose of SREP-4 climbed and drifted to the right as it crossed the end of the tarmac. The pilot dropped the left wing to bring it back on course, the nose still pointing into the air. The sudden flaring dropped the aircraft's speed dramatically, the wings lost lift, and it stalled. The nose dropped like a stone. The left wing hit the ground first, crumpling but rolling the aircraft onto it's wheels. It slewed to the left, rolling further onto its right wing and crushing that under itself. Something ignited the remaining fuel and the crashing aircraft became a furious fireball. Jane dropped her glasses, her mouth falling open. Just as she thought all hope was lost, the seemingly still intact cockpit slid out of the smoke and fire and came to a rest some distance from the burning wreckage of the plane.

---

Emergency vehicles raced for the crashed aircraft as SREP-3 was diverted to another runway. It shot along the length of the runway two hundred feet in the air, rolled onto it's side to afford it's pilot a view of the scene, before pulling into a wide banking turn to line up on Patrick's other, separate runway. Jane watched as fire fighters pulled up too the burning wreckage of the fighter and began shooting streams of fire-choking foam across the area. Paramedics ran to the miraculously detached cockpit, pulling back the canopy and leaning inside to check on the pilot. Jane couldn't see anything, even with the binoculars, so she sat down, her elbows on the desk in front of her and her head in her hands. She hoped the pilot would survive. They didn't need a loss this early in the program. It could doom Mercury, it could even spell the end of SREP. She shook her head, clearing it of that line of thought. She couldn't think of her own problems when one of her staff might be dead.

---

A few hours later, back in her office at Canaveral, the Major got word that the pilot of SREP-4 was not only alive, but was relatively comfortable in the nearest general hospital. She ordered her car brought around again, already resigned to getting absolutely no work done at all. She arrived at the hospital in good time, though apparently not first. Several vehicles with Canaveral passes were already parked along the front of the building as she walked into the cool interior. A nurse spotted her uniform and pointed her in the right direction without a word. After several minutes of walking through antiseptic scented corridors she found a waiting room, the five uninjured astronauts-in-training sprawled across chairs. Harrison stood and threw something of a salute, thought she was hardly going to pick him up on it now.

"Any news?" She said simply, returning his salute and gesturing for him to sit down again.

"He was incredibly lucky. The Doctor said his leg's broken, and they want to keep him under observation for a couple of days to check for concussion and spinal damage, but he's going to be okay." Jane breaths a sigh of relief, unbuttoning her jacket and taking a seat.

"He's still going to get to fly right, Major?" Charles Pleasant said, a look of concern on his face.

"It's not up to me. But if there's any way he can, he will." She lets out a strained laugh. "I've got six of you, I'm not going to let a single one of you get away from me." Some of them smile. Matlock even lets out a sharp bark of a laugh.

"What if the Doc's here say he's not fit though?" Jane pauses for a moment, her mind racing.

"We have a small medical staff at SREP, right? The researchers who've been conducting your training? What if I get a couple of GP's in to look after your health, people who maybe have a little more understand of what it is you're doing. They get final say on whether you can fly or not, no matter what civilian's decide." She see's nods and smiles at them. "Okay. Send Gerry my best, okay? I'm glad he's going to be okay."

"Us too, Major. Thanks."

"I guess I'd best get busy again then. See you later." She stands and walks out, heading for her car.

Edited December 20, 2014 by HMS Sophia

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XXXIV - Pleasant Surprises

15th February 1959

Jane stepped into the lab, pleased by the news she had just heard. Condon was getting out of hospital, seemingly healthy and recovered from his disastrous landing at Patrick AFB. Even better, one of the medical support staff helping to train the astronauts had a background in community medical care. She was meeting the doctor later in the week to see if he was interested in stepping up to take over the care of the astronauts in general life as well as in their training. Even so, despite her happiness, the sight that met her in the laboratory stopped her for a moment. Hazlett was stripped to his undershirt, jacket and tie hanging over a nearby chair, and he was shoulder-deep in Cartographers return module.

"How about now?" He calls out. One of the other team members shakes his head.

"No, still getting nothing." Hazlett curses, the exact words muffled by the metal container his head is in. He slowly backs out of it, running a hand through sweat slick hair and sighing heavily.

"Well it's not a loose connection then. What if the transmitter is bad?" The team member points to a blackened piece of equipment lying on a work bench. "Ah, you're ahead of me. Well then..." Jane's attention is dragged away as Katharina taps her on the arm, smiling.

"He's really taking an interest." She says, gesturing to the officer now looking over a set of plans on the desk.

"I can see that. How long did that take?"

"Oh, about two days. He discovered nobody wanted to talk to him until he started actually helping. Did you know he has joint degree's in thermodynamics and electrical engineering?"

"I'm afraid the air fore didn't send me his resume when he joined us." Hölzl shrugs, looking across the room at him.

"My point is that he's becoming an asset."

"So you're having no problems with him?" Jane said, the disbelief obvious in her tone.

"I didn't say that. He has a habit of asking slightly uncomfortable questions about people's personal lives. Though I have to say I'm not entirely sure if he's an incompetent spy or simply terrible at social situations."

"Then his reports-" Hölzl shrugs again, making Jane smile.

"I wouldn't worry too much. We're doing good work, and he's noticed that, if nothing else." Jane shakes her head, a bemused expression crossing it.

"How close to ready are you on the third satellite?"

"We'll be ready for the launch date, if not before. Christopher is trying to solve a problem with the re-entry orientation system. It's possible it's what went wrong with one-one."

"Good. This one really needs to work perfectly."

"I had heard as much from Christopher. Apparently we aren't the only ones being repeatedly informed of the importance of the program."

"At least we aren't being picked on exclusively. It always feels better when the stress is shared around." Katharina chuckles. Jane hesitates for a moment before continuing. "There's something I've wanted to ask you about for a while, but haven't had a chance."

"Go ahead." The other woman turns to look at her, a curious eyebrow raised.

"When you were promoted to this position, you said you had some ideas for improving on the Cartographer design."

"Yes. I still do."

"I haven't seen a request for funding or any plans cross my desk yet."

"Well... to be perfectly honest, I had assumed you'd want to see success here first. I can hardly claim to be the right person for the job if I couldn't succeed." Jane is silent for a moment.

"Is there a problem with the hardware?" It's Katharina's turn to be silent.

"I... There are certainly ways to improve it."

"If you have the time, I wouldn't love to see a report on changes you would make. But don't let it interfere with your work on this." Jane says, gesturing to the equipment in the centre of the room.

"Absolutely not. I'll have something for you, and soon."

"Thank you. I'll let you get back too it... We can't afford another failure." She says, sparing a last glance for the room as she pulls the door open.

"I know Major. We wont." Katharina says, before walking back to her work.

---

18th February 1959

"What do you think?" She said, finishing her explanation to Dr. Carter.

"Well... it will mean more time with the pilots, that's a plus." If nothing else did, the number of different names people had come up with for their 6 mercury astronauts would never cease to surprise the Major. Pilots, space pilots, astronauts, officer-astronauts - her personal favourite - and so on. "And I won't have half as many patients as in my Navy days." The doctor says, stroking his thing moustache.

"Am I hearing a yes?" he pauses, before smiling.

"Yes, of course. I have some conditions though." Jane's heart drops. She had a feeling this appointment was bout to become expensive. She nods and he continues. "First, I get to have the last say in whether a pilot flies or not. That's air- or spacecraft."

"I told them as much." She agree's.

"Second, I want to be in Mission Control during flights. I have to be part of the process. If a pilot looks like they're having problems, I have to have the authority to cancel a mission." Jane opens her mouth to respond, then pauses. She thinks rapidly.

"They're not going to be happy about that."

"They'll be even happier if a the stress of a launch doesn't kill them." Her eyes widen and he nods. "I'm completely serious."

"Right. I can hardly argue with that, can I... I have a feeling there's something else?"

"I'm going to need funding-" She slaps her hand down on the desk, making him jump.

"I was so close to getting away with it as well." He sits, open mouthed for a moment before breaking into a laugh.

"Seriously though, I'm going to need to put together a sick bay. The pilots are undergoing some really intensive training, we're lucky we haven't had a major incident until now. I'll need a nurse as well, though I imagine I can pull an assistant from the current team. But mainly I need beds and and equipment."

"Of course. I'll find the budget for it, if it's necessary to operations. And it sounds like it is."

"Absolutely it will be. I really don't want to see any of them medical'ed out. Although..." he pauses, uncomfortable.

"What is it?"

"I've seen Condon in training since his accident. He's not what he was a month ago."

"Mobility issues?"

"I don't think so. He doesn't seem to be in any real pain. Or if he is, he's hiding it well. No, I think he's hitting some sort of mental barrier. Oh he's still the joker of the pack, but he's lost some of his motivation."

"Think he'll make it still?" Carter shrugs, frowning.

"I honestly don't know. I certainly hope so. I can have a chat with him as his Doctor now, that'll help I'm sure."

"Good. I said it to them before, I've only got six right now and no funding to bring in another group. I need them all."

"I'll do my best to keep them together, Major, even if it takes glue and pins." They share another laugh, and the Doctor stands. "I'm going to speak to them, if I may. I'll give them the news myself."

"Absolutely. Don't let me keep you."

Edited December 20, 2014 by HMS Sophia

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XXXV - The Flying Dart

22nd February 1959

Orbiter-7 and it's Ajax booster balanced carefully on the pad at launch complex six as the sun sat high in the sky. The tarmac was baking, the heat coming up distorting the Major's view of the rocket from the blockhouse. Spirals of steam drifted away as the fuelling hoses retracted, and the twin arms of the launch tower fell away from the rocket. Unsupported for the briefest of moments, it swayed before the motor ignited. A flash of flame and then it was away, slowly at first but quickly accelerating. It roared off into the sky, and Jane could feel herself tensing. They'd suffered failure after ignominious failure recently, and they needed a good flight to get them back on track.

Orbiter-7 flew off into the upper atmosphere, long since vanished from the observers at Canaveral. The first stage burned out, followed by a perfect firing of the second stage. Securing the payload and the third stage booster in orbit, it then seperated as well to spin around the planet until it was dragged to a fiery end by the wispy edges of the atmosphere. The fat little Finckley booster then fired, mixing fuels in its numerous combustion chambers and rapidly lifting the orbiter's apoapsis far beyond the upper reaches of the atmosphere and into the cold depths of space beyond. When the fuel pumps turned off and the feed valves closed, Orbiter-7 was set to race away from the earth, all the way out beyond one hundred thousand kilometres, before gracefully sailing back in towards the planet again on it's never ending journey through space. Then, as it sailed up towards the most distant point, almost a day since it was launched, the valves opened again, re-igniting the motors. Shifting it's orbital path away from the surface of the earth, it left the little scientific platform vacillating between 500 and 100,000 kilometres from the surface. It left it in the perfect position to study the belts of radiation around the planet as it whisked through them at thousands of metres per second. Antennae extended, data recorders running and instruments powered, Orbiter-7 was functional and transmitting, a totally successful launch.

---

2nd March 1959

Jane had kept Colonel Taft's warning in mind ever since they'd spoken last. Even so, she hadn't quite expected a visit from a USAF officer so soon or with such a surprising proposal.

"Good morning, Major." The man smiled, hanging his hat from the corner of the chair opposite Jane's and unbuttoning his jacket. He slumps into the seat casually, dropping a folder on her desk at the same time.

"The same to you, Major." She returned his smile. "Have to say, I'm glad to finally be here."

"Oh? I can't imagine the gate guards gave you that much trouble, did they?" He lets out a sharp laugh, throwing his head back.

"No, no, not that. I mean here, to tell you about this at all." He says, patting the folder. "I've been lobbying my seniors for permission to come down here and show you some pictures for... well, months now." Jane frowns, nodding to the folder.

"Well... you're here now. What have you got for me?"

"Have you heard of the X-3?" She shakes her head. He laughs again, more quietly this time. "I have to admit, I'm glad of that. I'd have to get some burly enlisted to come and find out how you found out." She blinks silently and he pouts before continuing. "It's a classified Air Force program to test high mach speeds and their effects on flight characteristics. I say program, it's an aircraft." He pulls a photo out of the folder, an aircraft mounted in a wind tunnel. "Lucky for us, I've been given clearance to talk to you about it." Jane pick up the photo, looking over the jet. It's sleek, skinnier than any plane she'd ever seen, and it had tiny wings that jutted from either side. It looked like a dagger. It looked fast. If she was honest, she'd say it looked mean.

"You've done flight tests?" He nods. "How does it handle?"

"Well, I'm no pilot-"

"Neither am I. Carry on." He smiles in thanks before continuing.

"As far as I've been told, it's twitchy as all hell going low and slow. The pilot's have been joking that it flies about as well as their morning cup of coffee." She chuckles at the terrible joke. "Get it up to it's highest speeds though, and it flies a lot smoother. Just don't pull the stick too hard."

"What sort of speeds have you achieved?"

"She can break mach 3." He says and her eyes widen. "Yup, and we're pretty sure it can go faster as well. She's barely been flying a year so far and only recently have we got the turbojets working at full spec. Should be performing a top speed run later in the year."

"I'm impressed." Jane says, tossing the picture back down. "But what's SREP got to do with any of this? Even if it does go faster than mach 3, it's not going to get into space. You're short about, ooh... three thousand miles per hour?" The man almost looks surprised, and his eyes widened for a moment.

"Well, this is the X-3 right? We want to build the next one. Well, when I say we, I mean the Air Force. And when I say build, I mean we want you to design and build it... You being SREP."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but we do rockets. I doubt we have an experienced aerospace engineer amongst us, other than a few of the Chief's guys who do shockwave dissipation and the like..." She trails off, realising she's rambling.

"Maybe so. But if you're guys know one thing, it's rocket design, right?" She shrugs, nodding. "We want the next one to be a rocket plane and we want to build something that we can fly up to, oh... 100 kilometres and beyond?" The Major is silent for a minute, waiting for the 'gotcha' moment. When it doesn't come, she clears her throat.

"You realise you couldn't sustain that altitude, yes?" He nods.

"Oh sure, we're talking about a zoom climb. We've read some writing on rocket fuel consumption and so on. We're not completely out of it on this one."

"Then you seriously want to build an aircraft capable of sub-orbital space flight?" He nods. She shakes her head, leaning on the table. She pulls the folder over to her side, flipping it open and looking at the pictures, the graphs, the reams of data. "Well... I can hardly say I'm not impressed."

"So you're on-board?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Where's the funding coming from for development."

"The USAF X program, mostly. Your team's salaries come from you, and any costs for private development you do in rocket design is SREP's to eat."

"And pilots?"

"We have a flight team established already. Three USAF test pilots. If I'm honest, they're all guys we thought you'd take for the Mercury program. We have flight support crews and everything as well all already established for the X-3 flights." He grins, obviously well prepared. "Got any more?"

"One. Facilities?"

"We're based at Edwards AFB out in California right now. We'd like to look at doubling up at Patrick down the road if you wouldn't mind."

"Major Dornberger... I think we have a deal." They shake hands, grinning at each other. To Jane the excitement is almost palpable. It's another step for SREP, another step that might not further their current programs but extends their reach and their capabilities.

---

Media:

Orbiter-7 at apoapsis, an artists impression.

The X-3 high performance jet aircraft in flight, ascending shortly after take-off.

Edited December 15, 2014 by HMS Sophia

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XXXVI - The Map-Makers Successor

1​9th March 1959

The launch of Cartographer-1-3 a week before had gone perfectly. The booster had flown like a dream, the engineering team having worked around the clock the day before to ensure that every single part was exactly as designed. Explosive bolts split the first stage away, then the second, leaving the payload to complete its insertion into a polar orbit. There it would orbit for two weeks, perhaps even three, however long the Air Force would require it. Then perhaps it would finally return usable images of the GDR, of the USSR, of wherever the people flying it decided to point its camera's.

That, of course, was why Katharina was in her office, a brief report in her hands, and a troubled look on her face. She had carefully laid out a set of plans in neat rows, each showing one of the launched Cartographers at the point of failure. The first was a problem in the camera's, a notation ascribed to a piece of equipment she couldn't name. It didn't concern her whatever it was, the camera's were supplied to them. The second identified part of the guidance system for the return payload, something jolted out of alignment by the launch which led to the failed re-entry. The third plan was scrawled over in what she recognised to be the Chiefs writing as well as Katharina's. Some problematic wiring, plausibly a failed explosive bolt in the separator. An oversight, not the significant failures of the previous two flights. Hopefully the one they had just placed in space would not have anything like the same problems.

"I don't understand, why are you showing me our failures?" Jane said, pushing the three papers back across the desk.

"Context. These are the three failures, the reasons behind them." The other woman said quietly.

"I can read that. Why?"

"For this." Kat pulls another drawing out, filling the page it's on. The picture is still recognisably a Cartographer payload, but with several major differences.

"This is block 2?"

"Absolutely. Sections of it are almost completely re-engineered." She says, holding her hand out to take the paper back. "Look, here. The camera bay has been totally redesigned to be more sturdy. I removed the upper ring of solar panels, using a new production method for the lower ring that improves power generation substantially. Everything aft of that I've left alone, but the return capsule has been modified in a similar way to the camera bay. It is more sturdy, more likely to be able to survive re-entry with the film intact."

"What about the stabilisation?" Jane says, remembering the problems one of the Cartographer payloads faced.

"Additional thruster ports. The fuel wont last quite as long, it will deplete more quickly, but they'll be able to maintain the heading of the capsule much more effectively."

"Good, good..." She pauses, looking at the page. "How would you rate the chance of success of the block 1 payload?" Katharina takes just as long to think, before sighing.

"10 to fifteen percent. Maximum. It has a lot of problems that weren't foreseen by the original design team, that we're only now experiencing due to repeated flights." Jane nods, unsurprised by the answer, as disappointing as it is.

"And the block 2?"

"Sixty percent. Seventy-five percent at the most hopeful." Jane balks, and Katharina shrugs "I'd love to be proven wrong, and I'm reducing that based on previous failures, not expected faults."

"I can hardly complain with 50 to sixty percent improvements can I?" Jane shakes her head, eventually giving a small smile. "When will block 2 be ready to fly?"

"Ah, well... Several months. If the Air Force continue to schedule them bimonthly, then the fifth production launch will be a block 2 payload."

"Not the next one?"

"The fourth is already under construction. Retooling now would be a large amount of wasted money." She frowns, thinking. "Four will be ready in... two weeks, anyway. Then we can convert over to constructing the block 2 and be ready for the next launch date."

"I suppose that will have to do then" Jane says, grinning. "I approve of your plan, Ms. Hölzl."

"Thank you, Major Wolcott." She says, mimicking the others formality with a smile of her own.

---

Media:

The plan for Cartographer block 2, as presented to Major Wolcott.

Edited December 20, 2014 by HMS Sophia

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XXXVII - Changing Intentions

22nd March 1959

Jane looked up as a young woman was shepherded into her office by her Chief engineer. She smiled at the almost fearful look on the other woman's face. Jane knew who she was, of course. She had met Julia Kehoe several times, most recently when the Chief introduced her as the head of the new development team for SREP launchers.

"Hello Julia." She says, smiling warmly.

"Uh... Good Morning, Major Wolcott." She's clutching a report folder to her chest, and it stays there as she sits on the edge of the chair opposite Jane. They sit in silence for a moment before the Major gestures at the folder.

"Is that for me? I understand the Chief had you working on a few things."

"Yes, Major." She puts the folder on the desk slowly. "It's... not quite what the Chief requested. I'm afraid I used my initiation to develop this plan."

"I can honestly say I've never complained about initiative, as long as it goes along with a good chunk of common sense." Julia's expression flickers through a smile for the briefest of moments before returning to a professional mask.

"I hope you'll be pleased then." She says, opening the folder. "The Achilles is intended to be a replacement light lifter with payload capacity beyond that of the RL-3 at a similar cost. It's projected to be able to lift some 400 kilograms into LEO."

"Relay satellites then?"

"Or small scientific payloads. We don't expect it to be launched as often as Ajax is, but it's more flexible for minor satellites, rather than requiring the full cost of an Ajax."

"How long from now until the first flight?" Jane said.

"Four months, assuming we don't hit serious problems. And I'm not expecting any of those."

"Will we need to refurbish an RL-3 pad?"

"That would be preferable. It's that or upgrade the existing Ajax facilities, at considerable cost." Jane pondered for a moment.

"We'll refit LC-3 for the Achilles, and leave it at that unless the call for light lift becomes greater. I'm afraid I just don't see it being launched very often." Julia nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I understand. I'm grateful for the opportunity, Major."

"Please, it's Jane." She says, glancing at the other woman, who is still perched on the edge of her chair. "I'd suggest having a conversation with the Doctor as well. This might inspire him to create slightly more... value efficient explorer satellites." She gives a dry chuckle, then frowns at Julia's continuing nervousness. She shakes her head minutely. "Do you have anything else for me? Or would you like to get on with your work?"

"Yes Major, thank you." She stands, gives a small smile and adds "I'm glad you liked the design" before hurrying out.

---

1st April 1959

"The people of the German Democratic Republic continues its successes in space flight today. This evening, before Europe sleeps, Mondsonde-3 will complete it's 45 hours of flight from the surface of the Earth, to the surface of the moon. It will become the first man made vehicle to land on another planet as it hits the moons surface at three kilometres per second. Not only has this new probe provided the Republic with knowledge of the hazards of space-flight, but the aftermath of its impact will also begin to teach us more about the moon. Even now, German astronomers at Sonneberg, Jungfraujoch and Göttingen are watching, waiting for the plume of debris that the impact will throw up. We expect the flight of this advanced probe will lead to many great discoveries, discoveries that can only lead to the betterment of the GDR and it's people.

-News release announcing the flight of Mondsonde-3

---

2nd April 1959

"Yes Sir, I saw the article." Jane said into the phone, hand massaging the tension out of her neck.

"Your thoughts?" The voice at the other end said.

"Well, I'm very impressed. I don't think we can draw any more conclusions from it though."

"No?"

"Is the third rocket the first one planned to be an impactor? Or is it the first one they've managed to get on target? Or is it simply the first of several shots towards the moon that happens to have hit it? We have no real idea whether they're doing anything more than firing blind."

"Good point, Major. So, what's SREP's plan moving forward?"

"Plan? I don't see how this changes anything."

"You don't? Perhaps you should re-think the impact this sort of achievement has on the American public."

"Sir, the American public is not really of any interest to me."

"It should be. How's your funding Major?"

"I think you know exactly how poor it's been. I'd have been surprised if I hadn't been in the services for so long."

"And how are you going to see any improvement?"

"The whim of Congress-"

"No, the whim of the people, Major Wolcott. I would suggest some sort of moon program might be just what your budget needs."

"But we barely have the money-"

"No buts Major. Find a way to make it happen. You aren't going to get very far without making the public happy." She pauses, biting her lip, running through numbers, statistics. She glances at the budget folders in one corner of her office and sighs.

"Yes Sir. Thank you Sir." She says, before realising all she can hear is a dial tone. She'd been hung up on. She slumps forwards, leaning her head against her clenched fists and takes a few deep breaths.

"Are you okay, Major?" She jumps, straightening up and sweeping her hair back over her shoulder.

"Oh- Arthur! You surprised me."

"Apologies, Major, I simply meant to come and see how you were getting on."

"Fine, fine thank you... Actually, can you do me a favour?"

"Anything, I am yours to command." He says with a coy smile. She returns it before speaking.

"Can you get the Chief and Doctor Pickering up here? You should come too, saying that."

"Something has happened?"

"I... have come to a new decision regarding the German moon probes. We're going up there as well." Arthur breaks out into a broad grin almost as soon as the word 'moon' comes out of her mouth.

"And Lieutenant MacMillan as well?" Jane blushes, before smiling again.

"I suppose so. I just thought I'd tell her tonight." Arthur chuckles, shaking his head.

"I'll be back shortly, Major. I can't wait to hear what you have to say."

---

Media:

A blueprint of the new 'Achilles' light payload lifter.

Edited December 20, 2014 by HMS Sophia

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XXXVIII - The Trouble With Being Pleasant

8th April 1959

Dr Carter stepped into her office without knocking, a habit he had that annoyed the Major to no end. Still, he at least only did it when he had something important on his mind, usually something that further reduced SREP's limited budget. She straightened her back and rested her hands on the top of her desk, ready for whatever was to come. He took a seat and frowned, crossing his arms.

"At least one of your pilot's is never going into space." He said bluntly after a moments silence. Her eye's widened.

"I'm sorry?"

"Each of them had a full medical yesterday. One of them isn't going to space. Or rather, I'll never medically release him as fit to fly."

"Who?"

"Charles Pleasant. They underwent full medicals over the last few days, and his was failed."

"Isn't there anything he can do?" The Doctor shakes his head firmly.

"I'd rather pull him from training now. I... can't go into it, but it's not a condition that will go away no matter what he does." He smiles a little at her look "Don't worry, he's not dying. Normally, it would be nothing to worry about. But the effects of a launch on the human body..."

"You don't want to risk it." The Major says, and he nods. "I can understand that." She sighs "This is going to be devastating... What are you going to tell him?"

"Well... I'd hoped you would help, actually. If we can offer him something, a... I hesitate to call it a consolation prize, but essentially that's what it would be. I don't want to tuck him away, I want him to have an active role..."

"From what I've seen, administration isn't going to suit him in the slightest. What about mission control? I know you'll be managing the pilot's health during a flight, but what about their morale? If we have someone in there who is from their world, who can talk to them in language." Carter shrugs.

"I suppose it might work. As long as they don't interfere with my work." The Major gives him a look.

"I hope you're not besmirching the Army, Doctor." She watches his face fall before breaking out in a grin. "I'll pass your concerns on. And you still have a good eight months to train together before you have to run missions together." He chuckles nervously, standing.

"So... speaking to the Captain?"

"I'll bring him in later today. We'll see you there."

---

"The hell do you mean I can't fly!" The young Captain was on his feet, leaning on the Major's desk.

"Captain, the Doctor says you have a medical problem-"

"I don't have no Medical Problem! Major, I've been flying jets for years. If I had a medical, don't you think some Doc would'a grounded me long before now."

"Captain Pleasant, I wouldn't consider this a problem for flying aircraft-"

"That's because it ain't. And it ain't gonna be a problem for Mercury either."

"I'm afraid Doctor Carter makes the final call, Captain" The Major said firmly, standing to look him in the eye. "Sit. Down." She says, in her best parade ground voice. The other officer's shoulders sag, and he collapses back into his chair. After a moment he lights a cigarette from a packet he produces from nowhere.

"Okay. Fine. So, what? I'm going back to the 16th, right?" The Major leans back in her chair and frowns.

"We'd rather you didn't." He gives her a look of confusion. "Mercury is going to start flying soon. We want you in Mission Control when it goes up."

"Doing what? I'm a half decent pilot, sure..."

"Crew Command. You're going to be our link to the astronauts here on the ground."

"Like a TAC?" He gives a small smile at their faces. "Tactical Air Control. The poor guys on the ground who keep us on track."

"Essentially, yes."

"And I still get to fly the jet's down here right?" The Major glances at Doctor Carter, who nodded. "Good. I think I'da quit now if you'd banned me from those as well." he says, grinning. "Sure. I'll do it. You need a pilot down their anyway, far too many desk jockeys and engineers. Uh, no offence Major."

"Don't worry, Captain. I'm sure you're still getting over the shock."

"Yeah, sure. So I'm out of the training program, right?"

"I'm afraid so. But we'd like you to begin looking at developing procedures with the mission team." He nods, stubbing out his cigarette.

"Will do, Major." He throws a somewhat sketchy salute.

"Dismissed, Captain." She says, returning it from her seat.

[HMS Sophia]

Chapter XXXIX - Touching the Sky

15th April 1959

Major Wolcott stepped off the C-47's stairs and onto the hot tarmac. Edward's was as hot as Florida, but unlike Canaveral it was a dry, searing heat rather than the warm humidity back East. The cacophony of engine noised died down slowly as a car pulled up, a pair of officers stepping out. She walked out to meet them, shading her eyes from the sun.

"Major?"

"Good to see you again, Major Dornberger." She said, shaking his hand. "How're things progressing?"

"Well, thank you. Ready to watch her fly?"

"Certainly am." He gestures to the car, opening the door for her.

"Come on. We'll meet the pilots first, if that's okay with you?"

"I'm in your hands, Major." Jane says, sliding into the back seat of the Jeep.

The drive across the tarmac to the base's main buildings was a short one. Silence reigned, the heat reducing any urge to chat. Pulling up beside a hangar, Dornberger hopped out and opened the door again.

"I can open a car door, Major." Jane says, smiling to limit the bite of her comment. He flushes red, gesturing to the hangar door. She steps into the air conditioned interior, taking a deep breath as the cool air greets her, before looking around. A pair of off-white X-3's sit in the centre of the hangar, the forwards one attached to a starter cart and a fuelling hose. Three men, one dressed in a pale flight suit, stand as the two officers enter and walk over to them.

"G'morning Major." The one in the suit says, shaking hands with Dornberger before snapping a sharp salute to Jane. "Ma'am." The other two follow suit, and she returns it.

"Major Wolcott, meet Captains McQuarry, Richards and Baker."

"A pleasure. You're flying today?" She says gesturing to McQuarry's flight suit.

"Certainly am, Ma'am. Hope I give you a good enough performance."

"I'm sure you will." She looks back to the Air Force Major. "What's the plan for today?"

"The Captain will be going up once fuelling is complete-"

"As long as ATC gives me clearance." The pilot grumbles and they laugh, leaving Jane blank faced.

"Sorry, something of an in joke. Captain McQuarry was meant to fly last week, but the tower kept him on the ramp for four hours instead. Weather problems."

"But the sky's clear today Ma'am. Shouldn't be any reason not to get up there." Dornberger nods at him before continuing.

"Once he's up he'll make his way out over Rogers and the Mojave a little way. We'll be tracking him the whole was as he ascends to about 25, 30 thousand feet, turns and makes the first of several high speed passes over the base. Following a low-high-low pattern we'll try and get the best speed out of the X-3 while it still has fuel in the tank."

"It has endurance problems?"

"No problems as such, but the jet burns fuel like it's going out of style. With the throttle open I doubt we could pump fuel into the tank faster than it's burned."

"How long will today's flight last then?"

"An hour, at the very most. That's pretty much bingo even over the strip." She makes a lost face again and McQuarry cuts in.

"You haven't done much flying, have you, Major?"

"Army Rocketry, Captain. We're not quite at the stage of putting someone on top of them yet."

"So I heard. I've got prep to do. Major's." He says, snapping another salute and walking away towards the plane. The other two follow suit, catching up with him to help with the pre-flight.

"I have to apologise, Major." Dornberger says, once McQuarry is out of earshot.

"What for?"

"McQuarry was rejected from your flight program. I didn't expect him to be bitter about it."

"I'm sure I'll survive... He's your best?"

"Yes. We were slightly surprised when he wasn't picked, to be honest, but I suppose you can't take everyone." She bites her lip, concerned.

"You know... I never considered the pilot's we didn't accept."

"It's the military, Major. We're all grown-ups. Anyway, if we build the next one the Captain has already requested the first flight on it." Dornberger lets out a short bark of a laugh. "Hey, we might even beat you into space." She smiles at him as they leave the Hangar.

---

Jane watched a radar repeater as the X-3 passed over the base at some colossal speed, 20 kilometres above the surface of the planet. She had seen the first pass briefly as the aircraft passed mach 2, but this time it seemed to be moving even more quickly.

"Well?" She heard one of the test staff say into the quiet of the tower control room.

"Mach 3.3, 850 metres per second or so."

"Goddamn, that's the best speed yet. Get on the horn, tell McQuarry he's got two low passes and then he's done." She watches the aircraft begin it's wide banking turn, barely able to imagine what it must be like to travel at those sorts of speeds. Several minutes pass as the aircraft realigns and begins accelerating again.

"Hey Tower, I wanna try a climb at speed?" She hear's McQuarry's voice over the radio as he comes back in towards them, accelerating towards Mach 3.

"Altitude angels twenty-four, Mach 3.2." Come the instruments check before the test commander can respond.

"Uh... You want another high pass, X-3?"

"Negative, Tower, I wanna go ballistic. Bring the nose up as I make my pass."

"Mach 3.5, range is 18 kilometres."

"No go, X-3, no go. If you've got flight plan changes we'll discuss them for the next test." A wash of static comes over the radio.

"Got interference Tower, confirm I am go for climb?"

"No go, McQuarry, you are No go for that manoeuvre." Another wash of static.

"Mach 3.8, 7 kilometres."

"Thanks Tower. Beginning climb." Comes the last communication amid a final wash of static. Dornberger sighs and puts his head in his hands on the desk next to Jane. He looks over after a moment.

"You know I said he's our best? I changed my mind. He's an idiot."

"He was rubbing his mike, wasn't he."

"Yup. Lets just hope he comes out of this okay..."

---

McQuarry pulled back hard on the stick, dragging the nose of the X-3 up despite the immense speed it was travelling up. The forces pushed him down into his chair, making him feel immensely heavy. It took a full twenty seconds before the aircraft was pointing close to vertical, travelling upwards at three times the speed of sound. He watched his altimeter as the speedo ticked down slowly. 20 kilometres. Thirty. He shot up into the sky, one hand on his stick and the other holding his respirator tight against his face. Forty kilometres came and went, one hundred and twenty thousand feet in the air. He looked sideways, saw the curve of the earth below him like he never had before. Johnson's ninety thousand feet was long behind him, and he was still shooting into the air. The rapidly thinning air. He pulled the thrust handle way back, essentially shutting down the powerful jet that had driven him faster, higher, than any man before him. There was nothing he wanted less than a flame out to but him into some sort of spin. He drifted up past 50 kilometres. The sky grew dark. He could see stars above him. 55 kilometres. He pulled a camera from a side pouch and took a series of shots. Sixty kilometres. Frost touched the inside of the canopy as the aircraft grew colder. two hundred thousand feet above the surface, the X-3 reached the limits of its climb and began to fall.

Belly down it began to gather speed, dropping towards the surface. It passed Mach 1 quickly. Finally after several seconds it hit thicker atmosphere and the nose swung down. It accelerated as it fell, like a missile heading for the surface east of Edwards. McQuarry hauled back on the stick, trying to bring the nose up. It inched higher as the aircraft shot through the thirty kilometre limit, then 20. It hit Mach 2 at just under ten kilometres above the surface. The Pilot pulled with all his force, slowly, slowly levelling the plane out. Finally, barely four kilometres off the ground, it stopped heading for the ground and he could relax slightly. He clicked his radio back on.

"McQuarry, if you can hear this you're the luckiest damn idiot I ever met." The Captain chuckled at the sound of Dornberger berating him. He took a deep breath, fighting back the shakes that were threatening to overtake him.

---

The X-3 was towed around towards the hanger, canopy pulled back. Jane could see the mussed hair of the exhausted pilot over the edge of the canopy before he stood up, wobbling with the movement of the plane. The ground crew was cheering the lucky fool, impressed by the insanity of his flight. The plane pulled up and stairs were rushed over. Captain Richards hurried up them, helping the apparently weak legged McQuarry out of the cockpit and down the stairs. She watched Dornberger having a quiet moment, though from the Captain's face they weren't words of encouragement. Then the man was dragged back into the adulation of the group gathered around him and Dornberger was walking back over to the Major.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Major. They normally have a slightly better grasp of what's appropriate behaviour." She nods, letting the silence hang. "I have to admit though... a little part of me is impressed."

"Me too, Major. He's smashed the last flight records by one hell of a margin."

"Most of them don't disobey orders to attempt it though."

"No, that's true... Is he going to miss his chance at the rocket plane because of this?" She says, frowning.

"Are you kidding? No, he'll fly it. He might miss his shot at the first go though." They share a brief smile before she turns away.

"I'd best get going. I'll be needed back in Florida tomorrow."

"Roger that, Major." Dornberger says, smile fading. "We'll see you again soon though?"

"Absolutely. Some of my team at least. We need to start looking at the next one." She grins, and he returns it, before waving his Jeep over. He opens the door before she can reach it and she shakes her head at him, smiling. "Thank you, Major. Have a good night." The door shuts, the Jeep heading for her transport.

---

Media:

Images taken from the cockpit of the X-3 by Captain Chris McQuarry on his record flight