KevinTMC

If your craft is capable of precise orbital adjustments, and you've got a lot of patience, even a geostationary orbit around Duna can last a good long while. I put a small satellite in such an orbit (it was placed about a third of an orbital cycle ahead of Ike), precisely and painstakingly placed, and time-accelerated for over a year with the satellite remaining the active craft. (I was waiting for an Eeloo transfer and so had game-time to burn.) It only moved a few degrees of Dunar longitude, staying well out of Ike's way. And I imagine it's even less of an issue if the satellite isn't the active craft...or am I misunderstanding how the "on rails" thing works? (How much hassle is it to keep, say, a RemoteTech network in the right place, anyhow?)

The main reasons we sent men to the Moon were: a) Competition with the Soviet Union The sheer wonder of exploration and human achievement c) Because it was hard In Buzz Aldrin's Race Into Space, which I understand is one of Squad's inspirations for Career Mode, this was reflected in two ways. First, and most obviously, the whole point of the game--the one and only way to win it--was to land a man on the Moon before the opposition did. I wouldn't expect KSP to closely mirror this dynamic. Secondarily, BARIS awarded prestige points for incremental advances along the path towards a lunar landing (and also for a few achievements on side paths, such as sending probes to other planets), this prestige bringing with it rewards such as increased budget and a higher job performance rating. I would expect KSP Career Mode to operate in a similar fashion: that is, the achievements and rewards will not be exclusively tuned towards what is immediately useful, scientifically or engineering-wise, but will also encourage and reward things that are just plain cool and that the Kerbals can take pride in for their own sake. This tuning, if artfully done, will be able to encourage certain paths of development and exploration--some of which will involve kerballed missions, some of which won't--without restricting the player's range of choices as much as BARIS necessarily did (being as it was not only a historical simulation, but a historical simulation programmed in the early '90s, based on a board game).

Many thanks to Xeldrak for this great challenge. I've finally completed my entry--it took a few days to play, and a few more days to write up. Rather than spam this thread with narrative and screenshots, I created a thread in the Mission Reports subforum to tell the full story instead. It can be found here: The Apollo K Project (a "Doing it Apollo Style" challenge mission) Here's a look at my craft on the pad: Craft file is available here. Here's the Command Module and Munar Module, orbiting the Mun: And here's my best-timed screenshot: The final challenge score for this mission was 143 points (out of a possible 218). Hope you enjoy the mission report.

RETURN Command Module Pilot Bob Kerman was orbiting almost directly overhead when contact with the Munar Module was lost. He thought he saw a flash...but it could also have been his imagination. Bob would not be needing the docking port anymore. He released the sub-satellite and prepared to burn for home. Oh, yes. The docking port. Oops. One piece of orbital debris left behind then. Almost a clean flight. Bob then flew home alone. With lots of fuel left in the Command Module, the transfer was easy. Even though he didn't have to, Bob used aerobraking followed by an apokee burn to establish a stable orbit before final reentry--to help gather reentry data for future missions, and also to help better target his own landing. Finally, a burn for gradual reentry, targeting the ocean east of Kerbal Space Center. There was an extra burn directly above KSC, to use up leftover fuel and make the return even gentler. A water landing, as prescribed. Splashdown at MET 2d 0h 54m. Points earned: The final challenge score for this mission is 143 points, out of a possible 218. By way of recap, this is how the 75 points were lost: -15 for completely missing the landing site -5 for losing half the science packages -5 for not removing kerbonauts first before crashing MM -40 for losing two crew -10 for not being able to redock in munar orbit Many thanks to Xeldrak, the creator of this challenge. Even though it came to a sombre end, the Apollo K mission was among the most engaging and enjoyable and enriching that I've flown since I started playing KSP fourteen months ago. And I got a bit of a story out of it too. Thank you for reading that story; I hope you found it worthwhile.

DEPARTURE CAPCOM: We're going to continue to look into possible solutions down here. Just sit tight, fellas. BILL KERMAN: Roger. Understood. JEBEDIAH KERMAN: Talk to you later. I may go back outside to see if I spot any rocks that look particularly flammable. Bob out. Munar Module Bob was desperately short on fuel. Ordinarily, this is the point where I would start to mount a rescue mission. But this is an Apollo-style challenge, and there was no such thing as an Apollo rescue mission to the Moon; and so in the challenge thread, it was quite reasonably determined that kerbonauts stranded on the Mun in this challenge would have to be counted as dead. Desperately short on fuel or not, then, there seemed no point in just staying put. Especially with Jebediah Kerman involved. "Jeb, shouldn't we just keep waiting for them to think it over down there?" "What solution could they possibly come up with? Have us open the hatch and stand in the doorway with our jetpacks hanging out, so we can add thrust from our EVA suits? Actually, that sounds kind of fun..." "Just lifting off isn't a solution either. We're at 5% fuel, Jeb." "We've got the RCS too. In the simulator, I've gotten back into orbit using mostly RCS. We'd just need to get a big enough kick from the engines to get us started. I'll probably be too busy flying to stand in the hatch firing my jetpack, you'll have to do that by yourself...or maybe we should both go out and do this sitting in the deck chairs topside..." "Were those the same sims that showed it would be nice and flat around the Neil Armstrong Monument? Oh, and you'll notice we're down to 35% monopropellant." "That'll last longer than you might expect." "Do you really believe you can get us back into orbit?" "Do you really want to just sit here until you run out of air?" Jeb and Bill fell silent. As they stared outside, the munar surface on the other side of the window suddenly disappeared, and was replaced by a giant kerbonaut's helmet. A gloved hand reached up to the helmet and lifted the visor. Inside the helmet, Jeb and Bill saw a face. A huge, alien face, with a strange round shape and peculiar features. The eyes were small, and set into the face instead of sitting on top; there was a funny-looking protuberance set between and a little below the eyes; and the skin was a bizarre, non-green color. The kerbonauts heard a voice inside their helmets, as if someone were radioing them. Only it didn't sound like the radio--there was no static, no compression of the sound, no beeps--and the voice was an alien one. "Hello. Looks like you guys are in a bit of a jam." Jeb wanted to speak but couldn't. (Bill also couldn't speak...but was content not to.) "I'm Neil Armstrong. You visited my monument back there...or at least your rover did." After a few seconds, Jeb managed to find his tongue. "So you're what an armstrong looks like." "Suppose so. But I think what you really mean is that I'm what a human looks like." "A human. So it's really the 'Neil Armstrong Human Memorial'?" "What? No, 'human' isn't my last name, it's...never mind, we don't have time for that now." There was so much Jeb wanted to ask this alien visitor. "How did your monument wind up on our Mun anyhow?" "Sorry, we don't have time for that either. I'm here to ask you what you plan to do." "Well, I plan to get this thing into orbit so we can go home. My friend here has other ideas, which seem to mostly involve sitting here until we pass out and die." "I like your plan better. Except maybe for the not-enough-fuel part." Jeb sighed. "You can tell from there, can you? You don't happen to have any we could borrow, do you?" "No. Wish I did." "So..." "So what's the point of this conversation? Glad you asked. I've been sent here to reassure you." "Fuel would be reassuring." "Sorry. No, I'm here to assure you that, whether your story ends today or tomorrow or next year..." "...or fifty years from now?" Jeb interjected, hopefully. "Jeb, I've seen you fly. Anyhow, whenever it ends, it'll be all right so long as you go out as heroes. Because there's a special Valhalla just for space heroes, and it's where you two belong. There are a lot of great guys and gals up here, and we run missions you wouldn't believe. Jeb, there's a friend of mine named Pete--he's getting a ship ready for a mission to fly into the heart of a black hole. He's promised me that when you get here, whenever that this, you can be his co-pilot. "As for you, Bill, I'll take you along with me on my next mission, if you like. It's just an everyday asteroid-lassoing kind of mission, but I think you'd find it fun, and maybe they'd let you command the next one after that. "All right, I'm out of time and have to go now. Take heart, good luck, and Godspeed." The alien apparition faded, and Jeb and Bill once again saw the surface of the Mun outside their spacecraft. They sat in silence for a few minutes. JEBEDIAH KERMAN: This is Bob. You guys got anything for us down there? CAPCOM: We've...been working on it. We have. The best minds down here are racking their brains...uh...afraid I don't have anything for you just yet though. I... JEBEDIAH KERMAN: That's okay. We understand. We're going to try something on our end. Bob out. The twin Rockomax 24-77s fired for a precious few seconds before their fuel ran out, giving MM Bob a little bit of altitude and time to work with, but not much. The craft was pointed towards the horizon, RCS thrusting for all it was worth; velocity was gained steadily, but ever so slowly. Soon the Munar Module started falling back towards the Mun, still nowhere near orbital velocity. Jeb pitched it back to vertical to try to stop, or at least slow, the descent, but the RCS wasn't powerful enough for that. So Jeb pointed the craft retrograde instead, and kept the thrusters burning (there was still fuel); and he and Bill braced for impact. Debris flying away from the crash site. Maybe they should have tried riding it out on those deck chairs. Points added and subtracted: Please note that the lander instructions were followed quite literally. 20 points added; 40 points subtracted. The mission has now earned 128 points, out of a possible 218. The following points are no longer possible; they are noted here for the sake of completeness:

ROVING It was now time for Jeb to take the Munar Rover out for a spin. (Bill wasn't sure whether he was more disappointed or relieved that a second seat hadn't been installed for the Munar Module Pilot.) For the first few kilometers, it was a smooth ride over fairly level terrain. The first of four science modules was detached from the rover at the prescribed distance; the force of the decoupler flipped it over, but Jeb got out and helped right it again. Then Jeb crested a small hill...and the ground fell out from underneath him and his rover. They were descending into a crater much deeper, and with much steeper walls, than anything that had been programmed into the simulators back at Kerbal Space Center. (He seemed to remember having heard engineers mutter something about "zero point twenty-one" and "procedural craters", but he hadn't had any clue what they might have been talking about. Until now.) Jeb held on tight. Whenever it seemed likely that wheels were still in contact with the surface, he tapped on the brakes. The rest of the time, he screamed happily, enjoying the sensation of free fall. At one point he heard a loud bang behind him. Well, that science module just got a bit less sciencey. The Munar Rover drove/slid/fell, at reckless but not quite tire-popping speed, to the bottom of the crater. Miraculously, it avoided flipping over (or perhaps that was just a result of having no fewer than four reaction-wheel-containing parts still attached). Driving across the bottom of the crater was smooth and easy, and Jeb released a second science module there. It was a struggle to climb back up the opposite side of the crater. The rover kept wanting to tip backwards, and it got stalled here and there in steep spots. (Although it drove fine over other, equally steep bits...the getting-stuck moments were difficult to either predict or explain.) But Jeb finally wrestled it up to the top. Then there was another crater to descend into. This time the rover did flip, as it approached the bottom of the crater at unsafe speed. One of the remaining science modules was prematurely detached, and both modules and rover found themselves largely denuded of parts following a series of tumbles and explosions. The eagle-eyed observer will notice a few subtle differences between the rover as it appears in this picture, and as it appeared in the picture at the top of the post. Thus ended the science portion of the rover mission. The only thing remaining that could still be accomplished (presuming enough parts remained attached) was to drive the Munar Rover the rest of the way to the NAM. Once again, climbing back out of the crater proved tricky. Slowly, agonizingly, Jeb maneuvered the rover up the hill. Frequent stops were required because little power generation capacity remained; it was a two-steps-forward, one-step-back endeavor at best. Finally, Jeb had very nearly reached the top...but then the rover flipped, and Jeb was ejected from the Munar Rover. And then the Munar surface itself flipped, and Jeb was ejected from it. Jeb was far below ground, falling towards the center of the Mun. Switching back to the rover as active vessel arrested the fall. Presumably that was helpful. It seemed there was nothing to be done, except to carry on towards the objective with the now-driverless rover. The Munar Rover finally did limp its way there, and was parked for a well-earned rest. But what to do about Jeb? Mission Control started experimenting with switches of focus--to Jeb, away from Jeb, back towards Jeb--and discovered something useful. However far he had fallen while he was the active "craft", when the focus was switched away from him and then back, Jeb reverted to being just below the Munar surface...and it took a fraction of a second for him to start falling again. Maybe if Jeb were alerted to the switch, and jumped at the exact right moment... Bingo! CAPCOM: Okay, Jeb...we're reading your altitude as above surface level again. To be honest with you, we still don't understand where you were, how you got there, or how you got out. Let's just get you back to the Munar Module as quickly as we can, okay? Did your jet pack come out of...whatever that was...in good order? JEBEDIAH KERMAN: Roger. Flying back to Bob now. Jeb managed to make a clean landing back at MM Bob, without falling back through the Munar surface or anything. The reader may recall it being said, in the previous post, that "the question of re-ascent could wait". Not any longer. With Jeb and Bill back on board, it was time to deal with some rather unpleasant facts. But first, let's check the mission objectives for surface exploration: Jeb disappeared beneath the surface between the 5km and 10km marks, but the objectives don't actually specify that the rover has to be manned the whole way (or even at all, come to think of it). I'm going to claim the full 15 points here. Two packages were deployed before science-thingies and solar panels started blowing up and getting detached from their probecores; and each of these packages was at least 2.5km from the landing site and 2.5km from the other one. (When I first read the challenge, I thought the packages had to all be exactly 2.5km from the landing site, but on second thought that seemed a bit unreasonable.) 10 more points. This brings the mission up to 148 points, out of a possible 218. Looking pretty good...if Jeb and Bill can get home.

MUNAR LANDING Apollo K managed to enter the Mun's SOI without the game crashing, or any kerbonauts being strangled on the way. A circular orbit was established at 55km. It was then noticed that the sun had set on the Neil Armstrong Memorial. Thankfully there were snacks on board, as this would mean a good 20 hours of orbiting the Mun, waiting for the light to change. Finally, landing conditions were within mission parameters (and/or the guys ran out of snacks). The Munar Module detached and made its descent burn, targeting the NAM. Jeb felt badly for his friend left behind in orbit (more so, in truth, than risk-averse Bob felt badly for himself), so as he and Bill undocked and pulled away, he announced that the lander was being named in honor of the poor Command Module Pilot who had flown all that way but wouldn't get to walk on the Mun. Munar Module Bob Even though the lander had only ever been tested in orbit--never in anything resembling a landing situation--engineers were confident that the main engine had plenty of power for the task, so the descent path was fairly aggressive, and the MM was allowed to coast for about half the trip down. This proved to be a serious miscalculation. Once the descent engine was fired, it quickly became evident that, even with the engine at full throttle, there would not be enough power to eliminate both horizontal and vertical velocity in time to land at the NAM. The engine was stopped just long enough to activate the radial-mounted Rockomax 24-77s, which had been intended for use as ascent engines only. All three engines were then brought to full throttle, and even the RCS thrusters were added to the mix. This was clearly going to burn much more fuel than intended; but the sole consideration at this point was landing safely. The question of re-ascent could wait. The extra thrust was still not enough, however. Munar Module Bob was not slowing quickly enough to avoid disaster. All efforts to target the landing site were abandoned, and the craft was brought back to a vertical orientation, so that all energy could be directed towards simply stopping the fall in time. Mere meters from the surface, this was achieved, and the lander started climbing. This provided some breathing room, some time for the craft to be rotated a full 90 degrees in an effort to cancel out the still-significant horizontal velocity. By the time the lander started descending again, lateral motion was under control; the full complement of engines was now quite enough to ensure a steady, safe remaining descent... ...and a good, even gentle, landing. JEBEDIAH KERMAN: "Tranquility Base here. Bob has landed." CAPCOM: "We copy you on the ground. You've got a bunch of guys who turned blue several minutes ago, but we're finally breathing again." JEBEDIAH KERMAN: "Just one small step for me...but for Kerbal-kind, giant steps are what we take, walking on the Mun." Bill climbed down the ladder after Jeb, the Munar Rover was detached and moved out from under the lander, a flag was planted, and lights from the rover helped illuminate a picture that was beamed all over Kerbin. In the end, MM Bob landed 13.9km away from its target. Let's check the mission objectives: That would be nul points for accuracy. But other points can be awarded: bringing the total for the mission up to 123 points, out of a possible 218.

CISMUNAR FLIGHT It was then time for post-staging maneuvers, which called for Munar Module Pilot Bill Kerman to EVA to his Munar Module. (In truth, Bill could have easily controlled the Munar Module remotely at this stage, using the built-in Probobodyne unit...but he needed some time away from his spacecraft Commander Jebediah Kerman. As soon as a free-return trajectory had been confirmed, Jeb had exclaimed, "What's that smell?" To confused and worried looks, he continued, "I know! It's because we're FRTing in here!" He found the joke so funny he repeated it about every three minutes.) It was a simple matter to separate the Command Module, flip it around, then dock nose-to-nose with the Munar Module. The picture shows why EVAs are necessary to transfer between modules on this craft, even once they are turned nose-to-nose (and even if internal transfer of crew were currently implemented in the game). On the Command Module side, the munar sub-satellite was mounted between the crew capsule and the docking port (it was added late enough in the design process that this was the only good place to put it); while on the Munar Module side, a fuel tank was mounted between the lander can and the docking port (both to provide more fuel, and in the hopes that it would provide more elbow room for any kerbonauts electing to use the deck chairs...except that leftover bits of radial decouplers, mysteriously suspended in space, appear to have spoiled that latter bit). Also of interest is the fact that the Command Module's engine, which started the flight attached to the Munar Module's docking port, seems to have left behind its fairing. Let's pretend that that was intentional, to better protect the sub-satellite during cismunar flight, okay? To Command Module Pilot Bob Kerman's joy and relief, Jeb decided to EVA and join Bill in the Munar Module immediately after the docking maneuver, rather than wait until later. A small correction burn was made after all the mucking about, and at approximately 45 minutes MET, Apollo K was set for the Mun, with Munar encounter to occur in approximately 10 hours. 10 hours in the loneliness of cismunar space, with only a debris field for company. (Just look at all those lovely trajectories. All the debris from staging did wind up either on a free return to low Kerbin atmosphere, or smacking into the Mun while trying to make the turn. I do love a clean flight.) And each other for company, of course. "Hey, Bill! What's that smell?" "I'm going to leave you behind on the Mun, Jeb..." "I know! It's because we're FRTing in here!" "...if you live that long." Yes, 10 short hours to Munar encounter.

ORBIT AND TMI The craft flew straight and was rock solid up to the start of the gravity turn at 12km altitude. At that point, the escape tower started wobbling around a good bit; but it would soon be jettisoned anyway, along with the spent first stage. The second stage lifted the craft into low Kerbin orbit at roughly 74km. (There's been talk of awarding bonus points for having quincunx engine configurations on each of the first two stages. I'm in favor of it.) A final circularization burn was completed at just over T plus 8 minutes. This brought the mission to a point of considerable uncertainty, with two rather different trans-munar injection sequences having been penciled in at this part of the mission profile. It's the sort of thing that happens when there were significant, untested changes to the final launch vehicle at the last minute. On the last test flight, there had not been enough fuel left in the second stage to put Ronely, Hanbin, and Dunvis into the free return trajectory around the Mun, and so they had had to stage and then complete the burn with the Command Module engine. This posed two problems. First, having less fuel available than expected for the munar and return phases of the mission is quite obviously a bad thing. Second--as will soon be seen--this particular staging creates quite a lot of debris due to the fairings, debris which would remain in a highly elliptical orbit around Kerbin forever. Whether or not bonus points are tacked on in future for returning all debris to the atmosphere or crashing it into the Mun (the suggestion has been raised in the challenge thread), I like to run a tidy operation, and this just wouldn't do. So the decision was made to shed weight by removing some of the fairing. On the version of the rocket used in the Apollo Pre-K program, the fairing around the junction between the second stage and the upper stages was more elaborate, and the fairing that can be seen between the fuel tanks on the second stage had been extended all the way down the first stage as well. Removal of these extra panels saved a good bit of weight. At the same time, some weight had to be added to the top when engineers realized they had forgotten to add the munar sub-satellite called for in one of the bonus goals. So, Apollo K was launched with the hope--but not the certainty--that the second stage would have enough fuel to put the craft on its free return trajectory. If not, the backup plan was to split the transfer into two burns, an orbit apart. The first burn would nearly exhaust the second stage, leaving just enough fuel for it to be tipped back into a low-atmosphere return. Said tipping would be done at apokee; then, after staging and related maneuvers, the Command Module engine would restore an orbital trajectory; finally, back around perikee, the CM would complete the transfer. (Hopefully, the Mun wouldn't have moved far enough in the interim to require costly course corrections...mission control's best guess was that the extra delta-v expenditure would be minimal.) So, with two sets of checklists in front of everyone, and with a careful watch being kept on fuel, the trans-munar injection burn was started... CAPCOM: "Apollo K, we have confirmed munar intercept and free-return trajectory. Prepare for staging." ...and there was enough fuel after all, as the transfer was completed with a whopping 1.5% fuel remaining in the second stage. Relief all around. (Though it might be fun to try it the other way sometime, just for kicks.) This achievement adds 10 points to the mission score: The second stage having accomplished its job, it was time to stage, and bring the rest of the Apollo K spacecraft out from behind its fairings. (I couldn't resist taking several pictures.) It can now be seen that the craft design earns another 50 points: bringing the mission up to a total of 110 points, out of a possible 218.

APOLLO K LAUNCH With tests completed, the target marked, and last-minute changes to the launch vehicle made, the primary Apollo K mission was set to go. The spacecraft was on the pad and ready in the wee hours, counting down to launch at dawn. Prior to launch, it can already be seen that the craft design has earned the following points according to the challenge goals: and the following penalty has been avoided: Adding the bonuses to the 30 base points, that puts the mission at 50 points at launch, out of a possible 218. More points will be tallied as the evidence for them is shown. PAO: "We are Go with Apollo K. 30 seconds and counting. Kerbonauts report, 'It feels good'." PAO: "...6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, zero..." Um... Oh. The throttle. Launches are much more launchy when someone remembers to throttle up the main engines. Let's try that again. There we go. PAO: "Liftoff on Apollo K. Tower cleared." UNIDENTIFIED VOICE: "Tower? What tower?" PAO: "What? Shut up. There used to be one. It's just something we say. Shut up. And get off this channel!"

APOLLO PRE-K PROGRAM Ahead of the primary mission--and following a bunch of explodey simulations and unmanned tests--there were two manned, full-dress test flights. The first Apollo Pre-K flight was comparable to Apollo 9, involving Munar Module and docking tests in LKO; unlike Apollo 9, the test flight was conducted by the same crew that would attempt the Munar landing, namely Jebediah, Bill, and Bob Kerman. The second Apollo Pre-K flight was similar to Apollo 8, except that the Munar Module, being ready, was brought along for the ride. The brave test crew who took the Apollo K craft out to the Munar sphere of influence for the first time, and then back home again on a free-return trajectory, was Ronely, Hanbin, and Dunvis Kerman. Surprisingly late in the final preparations for the primary Apollo K mission, as the following objective was being reviewed: one of the kerbonauts (which one is, unfortunately, lost to history) finally asked the question, "How are we supposed to find this 'Neil Armstrong Memorial'?" Being met with embarrassed silence, he further asked, "Do we even know where it is?" A map of sorts was eventually found. It was suggested that this map simply be tacked up somewhere inside the Munar Module, but this struck even Jeb as a little crazy; so the director of the Apollo K project was prevailed upon to order that a lander probe be sent to find this 'NAM'--whatever it was*--and serve as a beacon. * The exact nature and meaning of the Munar artifact was even more of a mystery than its precise location. Clearly no Kerbal had placed it there; nor did anyone have any idea what an "Armstrong" might be. I'm not saying it was aliens...but it was aliens. The first and second stages smoothly took the probe into LKO; the second stage also provided trans-munar injection without a hitch. It was almost as if someone at KSC had done this sort of thing before. After establishing stable Munar orbit and taking a best guess as to which crater to shoot for, it was time for the lander to make its descent. With plenty of fuel for maneuvering, it didn't matter that the NAM turned out to be one crater over from the selected target. This was spotted in time for descent to be slowed as the direction of horizontal velocity was flipped; and the lander was gently set down close to the monument. Less than 100 meters away, in fact, which would surely be close enough...if, that is, someone at KSC didn't have a touch of OCD. So the lander was fired back up for a short hop or two, to bring it closer to the target. There. That would probably be close enough. Now "Apollo K" had a target to shoot for.

CONTENTS 1. Introduction 2. Apollo Pre-K Program 3. Apollo K Launch 4. Orbit and TMI 5. Cismunar Flight 6. Munar Landing 7. Roving 8. Departure 9. Return The Apollo K-R Mission (an epilogue) 1. Epilogue I 2. Epilogue II 3. Epilogue III 4. Epilogue IV The Apollo K-X Mission (for the "Duna Apollo Style" challenge) Mission Report INTRODUCTION This is the story of the "Apollo K" project, mounted in response to the "Doing it Apollo Style" challenge on the KSP forums. I am telling the story here on a separate forum thread so as not to clutter the challenge thread with narrative and screenshots...and because the brave kerbonauts deserve to have their story properly told. First, a note about mission parameters. In order to participate in "Doing it Apollo Style" and qualify for the 30 base points, a mission must meet the following criteria: Compliance with three of these conditions should be obvious enough; but some explanation is necessary regarding the "no mods" rule. As the challenge thread rolled along, it was determined that VAB mods were okay for use, so long as they were for convenience only, did not do anything in flight, and did not allow the construction of craft that would be unbuildable without mods or cheats. Therefore, I used the following mods to construct craft for this challenge, under certain restrictions as specified: * Subassembly Manager (all subassemblies used were constructed from scratch expressly for this challenge, as were the craft they were attached to) * RCS Build Aid * Engineer Redux (for calculating Delta-V and TWR only; the Engineer part was not left on ship for launch) * Editor Extensions (non-standard symmetries were not used, nor were the radial attachment or part clipping features) The craft file used for the primary mission can be found here, for anyone who might want to try flying it, or perhaps just check it out in more detail: Apollo K craft No mods were used in flight. I even took out Chatterer and Kerbal Alarm Clock, just so there would be no confusion arising from mod icons showing up in screenshots. I observed one additional condition that I didn't see spelled out anywhere, but seemed implied: I did not revert or reload the primary mission (or the lander probe mission for that matter), or make use of quicksaves except as insurance against application crashes (which thankfully never happened). Finally, since this challenge came to my attention at about the same time that version 0.21.1 was released, I ran the "Apollo K" project in a newly-created profile save on a fresh install of the game. (I tend to start fresh with each new release of the game anyway.) This was my first attempt to land on the new rendition of the Mun; and of course none of my flags helpfully marking the various Munar anomalies were there anymore. This meant that some preparation for the primary mission was in order; around the Kerbal Space Center, this became known as the "Apollo Pre-K Program".

I think that career mode could help this all make more sense--the wackiness and the advanced engineering and everything in between. It's only natural that at the very beginning of a space program, things would be more improvisational, more experimental, more crazy-seeming, more up-in-the-air, with more of a buccaneer if not reckless spirit. This was true enough of NASA; certainly it would be more so for Kerbals, because even if you tone down their goofiness, there's still no making them into safety-obsessed green-eyeshades types. So I hope that, at the start of career mode, the player will be basically finding parts in junkyards and assembling them into jerry-built contraptions and experimenting wildly and enjoying lots of educational failure and explosions. This is not to portray Kerbal engineering as incompetent--far from it! (When, at the end of the episode, MacGyver saved the day by building a nuclear reactor out of toothpicks, rotten carrots, and dental floss, was that a sign of his incompetence?) It's instead the nature of early spaceflight experimentation when you're on the ground floor, probably on a smallish budget (Project Mercury cost, what, 1/50th of the Apollo program?), and have only basic knowledge and no real experience to work from. Add in a dash of the Kerbal nonchalance regarding safety and penchant for improbable designs, and I think it's quite sensible to have more of a gonzo feel to the Kerbal space program in the early days. As the budget grows, as knowledge is developed, as experience is gained, and as there's more at stake in each mission, there will naturally be an ebbing of the gonzo and jerry-built and wacky, and an increase in professionalism and refinement. But there should remain light-heartedness, and even room for silly humor. (If the game ever gets too serious for there to be "FOOD" and "NOT FOOD" bins in the IVA, or too serious to let Pete Conrad in a Kerbal body--i.e. Jeb--near the controls of a spacecraft, I shall be ever so sad.) And I would like for the career-mode player to be able to take a moment in the midst of, say, a high-stakes mission to land on Duna that he or she is absolutely determined to pull off without a hitch, to think back on the earlier days of the program...to think back on the equivalent of the Mercury days, and muse, "Can you believe we ever launched a Kerbal into space on that thing?", in wonder and amusement. Those are my two cents on the subject, anyhow.

Finally, the great "Just what is in the 'NOT FOOD' bin?" question is solved. It's Mystery Gooâ„¢!

Yes, repeated launches of the same stable launch vehicle can get tedious. My preferred solution to this would be to add automation to the base game...but user-created automation. That is, I as a player should be able to create a launch profile for a particular craft. Either I fly it manually and have the launch recorded, or map out a series of target altitudes and speeds and attitudes by hand, or use something akin to the maneuver node system...somehow, I should be able to come up with a flight plan, and load it for launch. The flight plan could be executed in a fairly manual fashion--via navball indicators, other cues, displays of deviations and residuals, and so forth--or it could be fully automated, or something in between. What would make me happy about such a setup is that, first, I would have the enjoyment of devising a plan; and second, even if the plan is executed automatically, what I would be watching would be not MechJeb but MechMe. I would also expect that designing and flying my own launch program (with extra tension involved if it's fully automatic, and therefore out of your hands once you light the candle) would be just as much fun and dramatic as designing and flying my own rocket. The basic idea is the same, is reflective of the core idea of KSP...and would also be truer to life than the current state of manually-controlled launches.

The first lunar landing simulation I ever played was also text-only. Little bit different machine, though: This beaut was the HP-85 desktop calculator/computer. It was designed in my hometown, which I think explains how my dad got to bring one home for a couple days for us to play with back around 1979. I'm not sure which program it was exactly (could it have been a version of this one? but my memory wants to convince me that we were under time pressure somehow). But I do remember crashing over and over and over. I suspect even Jeb would have got tired of all the explosions eventually.

So you're explicitly rejecting FarmVille-type game mechanics early on in the career-mode design process. That's very good news. I'm a firm believer that a make-the-player-wait mechanic is a sorry substitute for play-balancing and giving the player interesting decisions to make. (The diabolical part is when they then get players to pay real money in order to accelerate the clock...in other words, players pay the developer of the game for the right to spend less of their time "playing" it. If that's not a sign that a game is rotten at the core, I don't know what is.) I also believe that steadily doling out little pellets of reward to drive the player to keep up a neverending grind is a sorry substitute for motivating the player by building the game around intriguing and inherently satisfying elements, and making the whole thing just plain fun. (Some game publishers, especially the ones working on mobile and social platforms, don't care a whit about whether their titles are fun or not...so long as they're "addictive".) One of my favorite ideas for this game would also, I think, serve the idea of authenticity well. That is, to unlock more powerful tools and shortcuts and automation as a task or technology moves from cutting-edge to routine. The sense of accomplishment I felt landing on the Mun for the first time--back before there were maneuver nodes or even landing gear, and before I had ever experimented with mods--is something I would wish for every player. I'd even wish for them something like the experience I had achieving orbital rendezvous and "docking" for the first time--back before there were even docking parts! But then you gain more experience, and develop better tools, and things become routine and feel so much simpler and easier...and there's satisfaction in that, too. ("Can you believe how we used to do it back when? It was so daring and hard then; we've got it down pat now. On to the next challenge!")

So does that mean we have a bug on our hands, and the thread should be reclassified? Or was the change purposeful?

I'm not seeing it: 0.21.1, downloaded from the store, running without mods.

In 0.21.1, there is a "Minimum Crew to Operate" stat in the pop-up information for each pod. It would be helpful to have a "Maximum Crew"/"Crew Capacity" stat to go along with it. (Sometimes this information can be found hiding in the Description, sometimes not.) I seem to remember it being there before, in fact...or am I just imagining that?

Infocom was bought out by Activision after an ill-starred attempt at entering the business software market. Things went well at first; then a change of leadership at Activision resulted in their being treated as a red-headed stepchild. They were shut down in 1989, though Activision continued to slap the Infocom name on a few other titles, and marketed the old ones on occasion. I was lucky enough to pick up the Lost Treasures of Infocom collections in '91-'92, and so own all of their text adventures, and at least photocopies of the documentation and what came in the box. They've recently re-released a similar collection (minus a few games from the complete set) on iOS...which seems intriguing, but I'd much rather use a real keyboard for text adventures. The top machine is the pioneering Osborne 1, which ran CP/M on a Z80 processor. The bottom is indeed a portable Commodore 64 system, the SX-64. I still wish I had one. (I've played around with a bunch of other peoples' Commodore systems over the years--VIC-20, C64, C128, SX-64, Amiga--but never owned any of them, only wished I did. But since I've never been without at least one computer in the house since 1980--mostly Apples until the late '90s, mostly self-built PCs since then--I've hardly been deprived. But you know how it is: the shiniest shineys are always the ones you don't have. I still kinda covet my grade-school buddy's Intellivision too.)

There are some great games in this thread that I remember fondly; and many others that I never played. I suppose they'd notice if I took a year off work to try them all, wouldn't they? Sid Meier is responsible for claiming countless hours of my life with the Civilization series, which has been mentioned here (including the Colonization and Alpha Centauri spinoffs)..and also with the Railroad Tycoon series, which hasn't yet been mentioned. While some of the features and some of the feel of the very first Railroad Tycoon never were replicated, and so it has a special place in my heart even apart from being first, it was PopTop's sequel that was the pinnacle of the series. And hey, Railroad Tycoon II Platinum Edition is even on Steam now. I've also fallen in love with sports titles over the years. I still mourn the loss of the FPS: Football Pro series (which I even bought third-party utilities for). Good times. Reaching farther back in time, though, I must point out that the real travesty is that no one has yet breathed the word "Infocom" in this thread. For shame! You deserve to be eaten by grues, all of you. I've still got the original boxed copies of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and Border Zone sitting on my bookshelf close at hand; owned and played many of their other titles too. And I've played them on quite the variety of machines. For instance, I remember running Zork on this: and Plundered Hearts (a greatly underrated title of theirs, in my opinion) on this: (Weren't luggables fun?) Of course, Zork was itself a descendant of the ur-adventure game, ADVENT (a.k.a. Colossal Cave Adventure), which I got to play one summer in its native ecosystem, on a dumb terminal linked to the campus mainframe via acoustic coupler modem (the 150-baud communication speed helped build suspense).

I was around for the last Apollo flights to the Moon, but was too young to understand or remember what was going on. The earliest missions that seized my imagination and that I remember were the Viking Mars landers. Coming on the scene when I did, then, landing a man on the Moon was still fresh in peoples' minds, but a done deal. Obviously, Mars was next. The first images from Viking were electrifying, and I couldn't wait until astronauts got there in person. I'm still waiting...as sure as ever that a manned mission to Mars is the next frontier, but less sure that I will live to see it myself. P.S. Glad to see so many people in this thread are my vintage and older. The KSP user base stretches both older and younger than I might have guessed...it must have one of the broadest age ranges one can find outside the realm of "casual" games. Not to mention one of the sharpest user bases, ever eager to learn more (even when it involves--gasp!--math and science).

In the Tracking Center and Map Mode, by default the user is able to see everything except debris. But after selecting debris (or any other single vessel type), it's impossible to get back to this view or anything similar without leaving the scene and coming back. I have actually left the scene and come back in order to accomplish just this. I would like to be able to use shift-click or ctrl-click or similar to customize my view instead.

I saw cacti in the desert in 0.20...but only after reloading a mission in progress. Same thing with other scatters: if I had run continuously since starting the flight, there was practically no scatter; after I exited to Tracking Center, did other stuff, and came back, there was suddenly lots of scatter. Maybe the 0.21 tweaks mostly corrected this problem, rather than turning up the frequency overall?