The Optimist

You may have noticed the worrying absence of a return module. So, I was coming into the dunatian atmosphere at 1000 m/s. My return module was a poodle and a X-8 fuel tank, plus the science stuff you see on the picture. In a last ditch attempt to save himself, Kelton jettisoned the return module, which slowed him down but also got rid of his only method or returning to Kerbin. At least he seems happy, though.

It appears that my planes do not use their canards if they have ailerons, for some reason...

​someone say something please

Nobody seems to be interested, but I'm going to keep writing because I enjoy this. Chapter 1/Part 2 Jeb and Gus sat in front of the small black and white television in the rec room. The cheesy sci-fi movie, 'Duna Destroyers' played through the static. After a few minutes, Jeb decided that he could bring up his point without yet another bureaucrat going nuts on him. "Uh, Gus?" he tentatively probed. "Yeah?" Gus answered through a mouthful of mint biscuits. "Well, I know that this might not be a good time, but..." Jeb trailed off. "What?" Gus replied, as he worked on opening a bottle of cherry-melon punch. "Well, I was wondering when I could actually get on a rocket and actually be an astronaut... Do you know? I mean, when?" Gus choked, spraying the room with cookie crumbs and juice. "If you can convince Gene to come back, maybe it might happen before the universe implodes-" . "Thanks!" Jeb jumped up and ran out of the room before Gus could finish. "Wait!" Gus yelled out. "That was a joke!" 40 minutes later: Jeb yawned as he drived into town. It was 9:30 at night, and he was tired. But he was determined, and nothing got in the way of a determined Jeb. He sipped a cup of soup absentmindedly, as his eyes searched the street signs for the address written on his piece of paper. Jeb's eyes fell upon a small blue sign. Aha! he thought, and made a sharp turn right. Steering through the narrow street, he watched the road signs pass by him. The soup was rather sour, and he was planning on having a drink, with Gene or without. He shut off the engine, and walked to Gene's house. Gene usually lived on-site at the space center, but the small brick city house was his old home. From the look of the place, he didn't care much for redecorating or living standards. The roof was missing tiles, the windows cracked, the flowers in the small garden withered. Jeb took a deep breath, and walked up to the door. He hit the doorbell, as he thought about what he would say. After a brief pause, the door opened. Gene stood there, wearing a worn grey T-shirt with a picture of a duck on it. "Hi, Jeb." Gene greeted timidly "Gene, I'm here to ask you to come back to the program." Jeb said. "I'm not going back there, Jeb. It's not your fault. I wasn't careful enough with the inspections, and I wasted our last money with my incompetence." Jeb answered brightly. "It's not your fault. We still have a few engines left, and a spare capsule!" "It's not about the resources. I'm just too incompetent to do this. You could do it better yourself." Gene smiled sadly Normally, Jeb was a good negotiator. As the owner of a very successful components company/recycling plant, he knew how to make people feel good, and how to convince them. This was part of being a CEO. And normally he would have done so: convinced Gene that he was important and get him back. But Jeb was in no mood for that. it was 10 at night, he was hungry and tired, and the one thing he hated the most were people who blamed themselves. All this culminated in his usage of the last strategy he had. "SHUT UP! YOU'RE GOING TO JOIN US, OR YOU'LL REGRET THIS FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE! *gasp* THIS IS WHAT YOU WANT!" Gene stood there, shocked. "And you're bipolar so I've arranged you a psychiatrist appointment. We have money and resources! I've hired some more competent engineers as well, so it should go better. So, what do you say?" Gene stood silently. Slowly, his mouth grew into a smile. "I'm in!" Jeb smiled. "Get in, if you want to." "To where?" Gene asked. "To get some drinks! And you need a psychiatric examination. Really." Gene grinned, as the engine buzzed to life. Jeb was right, after all. _________________________ With the outro of Duna Destroyers playing in the background, Gus whistled as he tinkered on his new project. He had been reading an article about the idea of using liquid oxygen and altered aviation fuel, to be combined and burned, without needing outside air! His rig was a rudimentary engine, using a small flask of supercooled oxygen, a spray bottle filled with some aviation fuel he had found in the hangar and a blowtorch. Carefully, he carried the contraption inside, locking it in his suitcase. That night, as Jeb and Gene were downing pints of spicy chili beer and eating large amounts of potato crisps, Gus dreamed about bottles of cherry-melon juice flying across the sky.

More boosters

someone pls try running it on their own machines

I EVA'd Bill from the during reentry. I wanted to see the flames from first person, but I ended up experiencing them too.

that`s not supposed to fall off

I meant to make a stock propeller/helicopter with just reaction wheels, but these craft are actually really good.

I'll have to look into that sometime _______________________________________ Also, the Ascender was just a thing I made based off the XP-55 ascender in WWII - - - Updated - - - Also, I don't know why my plane really doesn't want to engage. - - - Updated - - - Improved aircraft + new design for lols Illusion V: https://www.dropbox.com/s/hfxhql8gpcb3zxq/Illusion%20Mk%20V.craft?dl=0 XP-48K: https://www.dropbox.com/s/1dprxey2lhgv1dk/P-48K.craft?dl=0

Weather

https://www.dropbox.com/s/96dvbzjwhne3awv/Illusion%20Mk%20IV.craft?dl=0 https://www.dropbox.com/s/tclj8kujcgy6f09/Ascender%20MK%20V.craft?dl=0

Ion engines cannot escape Kerbin alone

little kerbal houses ._.

Jeb is on a escape trajectory out of the Kerbol System

-Stayputnik no longer has SAS -Ur rocket has no SAS -Ur rocket has no fins

I honestly have no idea

https://www.dropbox.com/s/hnu1m2c8dr34org/P-433.craft?dl=0

I managed to rig up some reaction wheels to spin wings in a circle, but it doesn't have enough power to actually lift up.

Jeb goes eva on minmus Jeb flies into lander module, a 3.9 ton rocket Lander module falls over, squishing Jeb

Would it be possible to rig up a command module with a crapton of RCS modules and reaction wheels, attach some vertically oriented elevons and by spinning the capsule make it become a propeller thing? It would need a craft to actually lift it off the ground, but then it would become a completely vanilla prop 'plane'. Someone, try this out.

Thanks!

Title says it all; How do I get the guns on my plane to shoot?

What mod do they use for the rotating propellers? nvm, it's just a jet

Chapter 1/Part 1 Three weeks later: Gene was sitting in his small, sparsely decorated office, courtesy of Jeb's generous grant to their space program. With their money, they had hired a few employees and purchased an old airfield which they had re-purposed into a space center. Granted, the science complex was just a motley collection of shacks, the launch pad just a layer of bricks on the dirt and the noticeable lack of a proper vehicle assembly building. But it was better than nothing, and it seemed perfect to Gene, as he put on his work boots to go to the hangar-turned-VAB. Inside the hastily patched-up old hangar, the employees were performing final checks on their first rocket. After hearing the PR guy's recommendations, they decided not to put somebody on said rocket, but instead operate it with a remote control that they had procured from 'a mystery source'. The simplistic craft was just a RT-3 solid fueled rocket, an improvised nosecone and some cardboard fins, controlled with the aforementioned remote control. Gus, the newly hired janitor/rocket engineer eyed the RT-3 engine. "I'm still not sure about the reliability of these tin can looking things." To prove his point he hit it with his wrench, causing a decent amount of powder to fall out. But the engineers would not be swayed. "I built this thing myself! It's gotta be good!" they replied, whenever he tried to bring up the subject with them. As Gus was timid by nature, he never pushed the point too far with them. Not that it would've helped anyways, though. A team of interns and engineers pushed the rocket trolley past him towards the brick launchpad, leaving a trail of nuts and bolts clattering off the rocket. 'That's not a good sign' Gus thought, picking up as many nuts and bolts as possible and pushing them back into the appropriate holes while running alongside the trolley. As the other engineers attempted to calm him down, the trolley gathered speed and pulled away from the group. "Uh oh" one of the smarter kerbals said, as the expensive prototype raced down the slope. Fredbart the technician was just minding his own business, eating a sandwich and reading a copy of the newspaper. He scarcely noticed the sound of wheels and yelling coming from behind him, until he turned around to tell them to be quiet. The following thud made Gene look up towards the launchpad. "What's going on over there?" he yelled. Gus replied: "Nothing! And on a totally unrelated note, what's the emergency phone number? Thanks!" *After a bit of explaining to the authorities, a few bribes, and some repairs, the newly christened 'Firechicken' is readied for launch* The atmosphere within the control room was one of barely suppressed excitement. Gene sat at the front of the room, behind the large, complex-looking and rather monstrous computer console. Behind him, Mort, Walt and Jeb watched, as the last technicians (and the ambulance) escaped to the relative safety of the bunker to watch the pretty fires. "Everyone OK?" Asked Gene. The different site supervisors radioed in. "Affirmative, sir!" Simultaneously, the operators flicked their switches. The projector flickered and flashed to a grainy camera feed of the launchpad. Gus's voice crackled over the intercom. "You ready, boys?" Gene replied: "Let's do it!" "Ten!" "Nine!" "Eight!" "Seven!" Gene gripped the console. The future of the program and the all-important second grant rested on their first mission "Six!" "Five!" "Four!" Mort gripped his wallet firmly. "Three!" "Two!" "One!" "FIRE!" The simple solid fueled engine roared to life, blasting away stray pebbled as smoke billowed out. Slowly and gracefully, it rose into the air. "YES!" The cramped control room burst into cheers, as the probe shrunk until it was just a faint dot against the grey-blue expanse of the sky. Gene and Jebediah ran outside, snatching a telescope from the gift shop as they went. Squinting, Gene noticed that there was a bit more fire from the engine than usual. "Your RT-3s are supposed to have one stream of fire coming out of them, not three, right?" Jeb shrugged. "More the merrier, no?" Just as Gene started to shout, the sky suddenly lit up. A moment later, the sound of the blast slammed into them. Instinctively, they looked up. A billowing cloud of fire and smoke, surrounded by falling stars lit up the dreary sky. "..." "..." "..." A shout brought them back to earth: "Get into shelter! The metal bits are coming down!". Cursing quite loudly, Gene ran into the control room with Jeb at his heels. Amidst the sound of metal hitting the ground, he launched into a tirade about how Jeb's company was unreliable and terrible, intermingled with a variety of curse words the likes of which the planet had never seen before. After a good 15 minutes, one of the interns raised his hand. "WHAT?!" Gene yelled. "It isn't bad for a first flight, you know?" The intern timidly replied. "IT'S NOT, ISN'T IT. I HAVE MY OWN STANDARDS!" Gene yelled, as he stormed out of his room. "what a nutcake" the intern muttered, as he packed up his folders and went out the door.