CatastrophicFailure
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Posts posted by CatastrophicFailure
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20 minutes ago, qzgy said:
because you could"?
This is a perfectly valid reason.
1 hour ago, Kronus_Aerospace said:So I finally decided to post my 51,300 ton beast of a rocket,
Enough faffing about in the low kiloton range. I challenge you to leave simple fission yields behind and enter the realm of megatons!
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58 minutes ago, tater said:
with recovered fairing in front).
Marking their territory. Dig it.
Southwest... did the airline used to use that building? That Southwest?
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Keep it up, guys!
...and here it had seemed so slow last month...
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MAN those clouds look ominous!
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T-30(ish) minutes, right in the middle of my lunch break. w00t.
So, no booster recovery again.
I’m guessing at this point there will be no more second-flight booster recoveries at all, to make room for Block 5. Anyone know when the second B5 launch is supposed to be?
ETA: this
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57 minutes ago, Delay said:
I followed this thread for a short time, but then stopped because the notifications were so frequent it got annoying.
It tends to come in waves.
One thing you can do is change your notification preferences from “immediate” to like daily or weekly digest.
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32 minutes ago, TeslaPenguin1 said:
I tried. It won't fly.
Moar. Boosters!. ಠ_ಠ
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2 minutes ago, sevenperforce said:
The space junk removal experiment is stored internally and will be deployed through the Japanese module, but it is also carrying an experimental cryogenic propellant transfer module in its trunk!
Sweet, do ya have an article on that?
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Just a reminder that CRS-14 is going up today in a few hours, 4:30pm EDT/1:30PDT/tooearlyformath UTC.
Looks like there’s an interesting space junk removal experiment in the manifest.
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Thanks for the typo notice, guys.
Damp you, Autocorrect, damp you straight to help.
it came down to the last four minutes but I actually managed to get two chapters up in a week.
7 hours ago, Alpha 360 said:As far as I can tell, this says: (cussword)'s OLD Deceased Mom and all her Wacky Nephews..............Am I close, @CatastrophicFailure?
That would be decrepit.
Even She won’t use some cuss words. -
He shall be crowned with Darkness,
And hold the Light in his hands.
The Nations shall tremble at his passing,
And the Undying One, the Chaos Bringer,
Shall bow down before him.
Chapter 19: Night Visions
Edgas jerked awake, the scream still on his lips. He stumbled from his cot, twisted up in the sheets, and narrowly made to his small sink before being sick. The nausea came in shuddering waves that stole his breath and threatened to buckle his already shaky knees. For a long time it was all he could do just to stand there, arms braced at the edges of the sink, his throat twitching and spasming as he fought for air. He didn’t dare look up. He knew what he would see. He could feel the grit in his teeth, the burn of alkali on his...
He looked, and saw only his own tired, rather baggy face staring back at him. His breathing began to slow, but his heart still pounded in his ears, not quite blocking out the words that always echoed in his head.
...YOU CANNOT ESCAPE YOUR DESTINY...
...I thought I was doing the right thing...
He spat with one last dry heave. One hand groped around for a towel, and found none. He sighed. His throat was parched, it felt dry and raw despite... well, despite. He reached for the glass of water he always kept on his nightstand, and found that missing too. In his flailing, he must have knocked it over.
He had to settle for washing his mouth out in the sink. Even with the burning in the back of his throat, he couldn’t quite bring himself to swallow the recycled station tap water. He knew too well what it was recycled from, and despite the Scientist in him screaming that it was far more potable than the average urban water supply, on this matter the Practical Kerbal in him always won out. He stripped off his sodden T-shirt, wiped his face and mouth on it, then donned a fresh one from the closet before pulling his hatch open.
The corridor was dim, lit only by the faint red glow of the off-duty lamps. Faint, but not dark. Never dark. There was no night here, of course. The sun never rose or sank from its half-hidden perch on the horizon as it made its daily circuit around the station. Yet he kept the entire base to a regular 24-hour cycle, synced to standard KSC time. At this hour, he knew, the halls would be empty, and the lighting... just enough.
He set off toward the galley, water glass in hand, his bare feet not feeling the cold metal floor grates. One hand rubbed at his aching throat. He couldn’t remember the nightmare, not precisely, it always fled as rapidly as it came when the lights turned back on. But it always seemed to take hours before he could shake off that horrible feeling of... loss.
As he went, he passed Burdous’s room. Well, closet. But not that closet, that one had been permanently sealed off and slated for removal. Maybe they could throw it to the whumpers as a distraction. Or... biological weapon. Either way, it might get rid of them for a while.
Beyond the insulated, ‘soundproof’ hatch, Burdous was snoring loud enough to wake the dead. It brought an odd little smile to Edgas’s face. That much he certainly remembered, if not for being heavily medicated the entire six-month trip back from Jool, he might not have slept at all. It was good to see his old friend again, even if the circumstances... weren’t.
Then, as he stood there in a dreamy half-daze, Burdous’s snore was abruptly cut off by a fit of wet, gurgley coughing. Edgas frowned. That cold seemed to be getting worse with alarming speed. Maybe he should get Burdous into the AutoDoc, have it give him a quick—
The breath caught in Edgas’s raw throat. Slowly, he turned his head, not daring to let it out. Somewhere, just down that hall... he’d heard something.
He stood there motionless, for how long he couldn’t quite tell, waiting for it again, but no sound came. Only the distant rumble of the air handlers. At length he sighed, and rubbed at his tired, puffy face. Burdous has gone back to snoring. That was good. He needed the rest.
Edgas took another long look up and down the corridor, then padded on toward the galley. Outside, beyond the auto-darkening windows, the sun was struggling to come out. Several of the guys had mentioned seeing a few fleeting glimpses of its pale light. That, at least, was an improvement, but the storm wasn’t giving up its reign without a fight. Once it did clear, that would bring... other challenges, but still, he... and all the others, needed it. Needed it desperately. They’d all been cooped up inside here for far too long, and...
He stopped, head tilted just so, staring up at the mission clock on the wall. No, it... it wasn’t too late! With everything that had been going on, he’d nearly forgotten, but if the storm cleared soon and the solar forecast hadn’t changed—
He froze.
Once again not daring to breathe, he peered off down one dim corridor.
“H... hello?” barely more than a whisper...
...and a whisper seemed to answer back, drifting from the far shadows.
“Who... who is that?” Edgas crept down the hall, his blood suddenly colder than the floor.
He heard it again, barely, an unintelligible mumble... and something that sounded like... gurgling...
“Lemmy, is that you?”
The shadows shifted, swirled. The whisper seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, and the soft red glow of the night lights grew dimmer still, the shadows straining to envelop him.
“Who’s there?”
Edgas reached out to the wall, to steady himself, and quickly jerked his hand back. He stared at it in revulsion and horror. Something dark and moist stained his palm, sticky, glistening and colorless in the frail crimson light. Was it blood, or...?
“Are you hurt?” he could almost... see... “what’s happened?”
Raspy, irregular breaths answered him. Someone was stumbling and shuffling toward him in the darkness. Questing hands shot out for him.
Edgas screamed like he never had before, spinning on his heel and nearly toppling over as he fled. A cold, electric fear arced along his bones. Behind him the whispers pursued, and the shadows with them. He turned left, turned right, panic scratching at his mind as all the corridors and crossways seemed to run together. Something caught his foot and he went sprawling, never slowing, using his own momentum to pivot around a corner.
Just ahead was the exterior hatch. He no longer cared. He had to be free! Free of the darkness, the whispers, the blood on his hands...
He hit it at a run, and stumbled out onto parched, frigid hardpan beneath the roiling alien skies, where the burning alkali sands kicked up by undying wind immediately began to eat away his flesh.
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Air rushed into Edgas’s lungs again. He jerked upright, unsure where he was or how long he’d been holding his breath. The ruddy glow of the off-duty lights greeted him, and beyond the hatch next to him, Burdous was still snoring to wake the dead.
He collapsed back against the wall, pressing his hands to his face. His palms ground into his eyes. He had to rub at his cheeks a long time before the feeling began to return. That’s how tired he was, he’d had a nightmare just standing here. He leaned a while longer, letting the shakes and that horrible post-nightmare feeling of exposure subside.
With a sigh, he picked up his water glass from where it had wound up on the floor. Glass... fortunately, it was plastic. He turned it over in his hands, looking at the myriad of chips in the rim and scratches along the surface. The scars of many nights of being kicked to the floor.
This is dangerous, the Practical Kerbal in him chided, and getting worse.
He pushed the thought away. He would deal with that... later. For now, he only wanted to soothe his still-raw throat and get back to—
His head snapped up.
There... down the hall... he’d heard it again. Once more Edgas stood, not breathing, staring into the darkness.
Am... am I still dreaming?
In answer, more sounds drifted out to him... raspy, agonal breathing... shuffling and unsteady steps...
Please... not again...
An unimaginable weariness settled over him like a thick blanket, weighing him down, squeezing the air from his lungs.
...not again...
And then... one fist curled into a ball.
No... not again!
If that’s how it was, he would not be the victim of his own psyche. Edgas moved to a hatch across the hall, grabbed the latch handle, twist, twist, push... click, and slid it free of the catch. He gripped it with both hands, flexing his fingers, letting the cold metal bar warm just a bit so it wouldn’t slip.
Now he crept forward, silent on his bare feet, his breathing slow and measured. In the darkened galley, up ahead, something clattered. He paused just before the open hatchway, raising the latch bar over his head like an axe, listening to the shuffling, uncoordinated movement beyond, and then, with his lips pulled back into a snarl and a battlecry in his aching throat, he charged forward to strike.
The lights clicked on.
“GAH!”
“GAH!!”
“GAH!!!”
“PЦTIЙS ФLD DЄCЯЄPIT MЦM ДЙD ДLL ҢЄЯ ШДCKҰ ЙЄPҢЄШS, are you trying to give me a flarping heart attack!?!”
Edgas squinted in the suddenly bright space, and eventually resolved her... standing there scowling at him.
She crossed her arms, “what even are you doing with that?”
“I...” he looked up at the metal rod he still held up over his head, then sagged and spat his own curse, “I don’t even know.” He set the rod on the counter.
She raised an eye... bulge at him, “kiss your mother with that mouth?”
Edgas opened that mouth, then closed it again.
“Like you can talk!” he finally managed, “I think you’ve picked up a new one, too. And I don’t even know what 'ШДCKҰ ЙЄPҢЄШS' means but I’m pretty sure it’s bad.”
“Hmph!”
“Wait, what’re you doing in here this late?” he asked, and then an odd realization struck him, “you had the nightmare...” He should have been surprised at his own words, the, not a... and yet it seemed to him as plain as the haunted look on her face.
For her part, she didn’t seem surprised either, only nodded and looked away, “I do not remember it. I... I think I have had it before, I just...”
And then, much to Edgas’s surprise, she suddenly stepped very near to him, almost touching, looking up at him with wide, piercing eyes. His instinct was to step back, but those eyes seemed to root him in place. He stared back, once again feeling... fuzzy, as if still half asleep, as if gravity itself had somehow diminished, and he was drifting. The strange sensations, the depth of that gaze... they drew up old memories long hidden away, but... not...
Those eyes bored into him, he felt like they were reaching into his soul, but... there was no darkness, no nothing behind them. No, it was like... looking into two pools of light itself, in every color at once, and he was floating... being drawn into them.
Then just as abruptly, she stepped back, and for just an instant he felt himself pulled along with her.
She nodded, mostly to herself, “I cannot read your thoughts. But I can feel that... fear in you, always twisted with everything else. All of it, it is stronger the closer I am.”
He blinked, “um, what?”
For a moment, she kept giving him that considering look, “i feel what you feel. I know you can, too. Even for a kerb, you are not that imperceptive.”
He blinked again.
She rolled her eyes at him, grunted, and stepped close to him once more, now squeezing them tightly shut, “perhaps you are that dense. Go on. Stretch out with your feelings, or some such nonsense.”
Feeling more than a bit silly, he closed his own eyes and did so, not quite sure what he was actually trying to do. Did she really mean she could feel what he was feeling? Maybe he was missing something. Although, truth be told, he had experienced far stranger things.
So he stood there, feeling... silly. There was conflict, of course. Lately, he always felt conflicted. But... had it been just lately? He’d always tried so hard to... to... contain everything, to move on and not dwell on the past, but... well, really, was there any room in there for someone else too? Edgas felt a lot of things right at the moment, not to put too find a point on it, especially now that he was actually trying to pay attention to it all, but it was all certainly his, well probably, and besides—
“Gah!” she threw her hands up, stepping back, “PЦTIЙS ЗДЯS, how can you even think with all that going on?”
“Um, I dunno, just used to it, I guess,” he said sheepishly, “let me get you some water for your throat.”
He turned to the water cooler, plucking a pair of not-glasses from the cabinet above and filling them. When he turned back, she was staring at him with that look again... and just the hint of a smile.
“I never told you I was thirsty,” she grinned.
Edgas stopped dead, just sort of... blinking again.
He motioned over to the little table, suddenly feeling rather wobbly, where she downed the entire glass of water before he even sat down. He managed to actually take a seat on the third trip.
“Thirsty?” he winced. Though he supposed, on some distant level, he was aware he didn’t need to ask.
Yet she nodded, gazing at her empty cup, “I feel like I have been choking on sand. So dry. And cold, but... burning.” She jumped, looking at him as if unaware she’d been talking.
It reminded Edgas how parched his own throat still was, and he quickly finished his glass.
“What does it mean?” that questing look returned to her eyes.
“Um... well, I dunno. I’m not even sure I rem—“
“You know,” she set her jaw, “it scares me, because I do not know; wherever it comes from, it is a thing alien to me now. But you... you are afraid because you know, because you know it is a thing worth being afraid of.”
That was... closer than he wanted to admit, “it’s... a long story.”
Now he did sense a flash of anger, “like your hands?”
“My... hands?” his brow wrinkled in confusion.
She reached across the small table, and taking his hands in hers, turned them palm-down, “this one is... normal, it matches your face, but the right...” she ran a thumb over the back of his hand, “is soft, smooth... like a child’s hand. No blemishes or marks... except for this little half-circle scar here.”
“How did you even..?”
The hint of a smile returned, “I notice things. Little details, sometimes I am not even aware... like my brain has filed it away for later. I have lost my memories, not my mind, yes?”
“Um... wow. Yeah, I suppose that makes a certain sense...”
“So why do you have an entire arm that has not aged like the rest of you?” her eyes began to bore into him again, but not like before, “why is one as intelligent as you, who commands such admiration from his crew, and a kerbonaut with a wall full of commendations, hidden away in a place like this, as if someone wanted rid of you?” No, the look in her eyes now was more like... pleading, “and why do you want so desperately to remain hidden, in a communications station with all the communications turned off?”
Edgas slumped back in his seat, his own eyes wide.
He stumbled to say anything, but managed, “it’s—“
“A long story,” she raised an eye... bulge.
All he could come up with was an awkward grin.
She shook her head, shuddered, as if sloughing something off, “can we just... talk, like regular people? Without forgotten pasts and haunted dreams. I... I would just like to feel normal for a little while, even if I do not know what that is.”
Her eyes rose to his, nearly welling to tears, “tell me a story, Edgas Kerman.”
And so... he did. -
Year 9, Day 135...
Trying this again...
You've already seen this part. But this time we put a big blue fairing on the stack just so there's no confusion...
And shortly, Prospector II is on its way to Iota. This time with lots of antennas. That are actually turned on. We've checked this.
Probably.
Shortly after trans-Iotan injection, the upper stage is discarded. It will adjust its course for a disposal re-entry later. In the mean time, Prospector II remains in good health and full contact with the space center.
No mistakes this time. The engineering team has ditched the potentially temperamental solar panels in favor of good, reliable, mostly safe nuclear power once again.
Our previous ore scans of Iota thanks to ION-1 reveal it to be quite rich in the material. Here, Prospector II dumps its jerrycan during the insertion burn. We've crammed as much hydrolox as we possibly can into the rig, it should have more than enough fuel to return to Gael a full 15 tonnes heavier.
As it is, at nearly 50 tonnes empty, Prospector II is by far the most massive payload we've sent beyond Gael at this point.
The de-orbit burn is started once Gael is once more safely above the horizon and a full-strength signal regained.
Aaaaand comes in just a tad low...
Really low. Guys, maybe you should start that braking burn already..?
But, thanks to Iota's meager gravity, the approach looked far more dramatic than it actually was. Except for the part where it was coming down on the side of a mountain, everyone was screaming and running around, and no one bothered to run the imager until it had popped back up to land on a much flatter spot.
Yes, this is a much better landing spot...
Now, to actually start the mission we began months ago...
Prospector II digs into the surface with two massive drills that practically dwarf the tiny exploratory drills equipped on the RaldBase.
While there's plenty of fuel on board, we're taking no chances. The rig is also equipped with two small-scale ISRU units to begin topping off the tanks anyway.
Although it strikes everyone as just a bit odd that we're able to convert regolith minerals absolutely devoid of water or any other source of hydrogen into cryogenic hydrogen fuel, hmm...
It's a long, slow process. But fortunately Prospector II at least has a nice view to enjoy.
Unfortunately, it's run by a simple probe core far from capable of appreciating the daily ballet of Gael and Rald. Maybe we could send an engineer along next time to speed things up. I'm sure we could find someone to go along just for the ambiance...
In just less than half an Iotan day, the process is finally complete. The return begins by decoupling the harvesting module.
Once again we've left our mark on another world by petty littering.
Prospector II then fires up its engines once more for the return to Gael.
With a load of regolith ore just about fifteen tonnes more, than the Prospector II weighed empty, the good ship (no crew) was a bone to be--
What do you mean, that's a bad luck song to be singing? Oh, right...
Anyways, we're leaving Ioooota (whoah-ooooh ooooh ooh...)
Ahem.
OK, well, anyway, the entire facility has agreed to lift the strike as long as I promise never to sing again. Which is good, since it's just in time for Prospector II to make it's hopefully triumphant return.
Thanks to the ISRU topoff, we once again have a huge surplus of fuel heading into the atmosphere, so the engines are fired up one last time just before interface.
Tanks empty and stabilization grid fins deployed, the rig executes a perfect reverse-Korolev's-cross.
And turns out to be only slightly unstable during a hypervelocity entry.
Which once again looks far more dramatic than it actually is. Fairings deployed...
...followed by chutes and heat shield jettison...
...and someone even remembered to pack the floaties, since it turns out ore is heavy.
We now set our sights on returning an even greater quantity from Ceti, which as it turns out, is just beyond our technological capabilities at the moment.
So leave it to GENE to spit out a distraction and why is the distress signal light on the panel blinking again? I thought you guys unplugged that...
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21 minutes ago, cubinator said:
What else is is a few hours?
So if you stuck your hand out the window at that speed and altitude, could you feel a breeze?
Before it swells up and goes numb from the near-vacuum, of course.
Assume you've got an oxygen helmet.
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10 minutes ago, Dman979 said:
Now that's what I call a catastrophic failure!
Thread locked, BTW.
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Hmph.
Y’all and all yer fancy clicks!
I squatted on this thread for a whole flarping week, just waiting to drop the perfect response gif the minute it reopened.
Then as soon as I give up and close the tab, THIS.
But all y’all should definitely click here.
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16 hours ago, Ultimate Steve said:
I was in the middle of watching Spider-Man: Homecoming at the biggest twist when it got so akward I had to go over to my computer to check something. I had this notification and had a crisis - do I stop watching the first movie I've enjoyed in a long time or watch this exciting groundbreaking development?
It was a hard decision and I chose the latter. I mentally prepare myself to miss part of the movie.
I hated you for a second, but now I truly realize - Elon Musk is never gonna give up on BFR.
But apparently he is getting in on the fun.
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4 hours ago, qzgy said:
Hey you should correct that title up top. I thought this was not seafaring, but spacefaring creatures we were talking about!
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My wife just brought this home for me:
Spoiler
I think they should give Edgas an endorsement deal.
“When you absolutely, positively need to punch odor in the face...”
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Sooooo....
After musing on this regulatory rigmarole all day, "YOUR MOM'S HOUSE" now makes perfect sense.
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What a great big steaming load of... methane.
I'm still kinda floored that NOAA is the acting regulatory agency here.
Why did this only become an issue now, 50-some launches later? Methinks someone’s hand is in someone’s pocket.
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36 minutes ago, tater said:
I can only presume the original point was to limit the ability of private US firms to produce imagery that might compromise national security.
Right, because the picture from those two GoPros on the upper stage is just sooooo clear.
[desire to throw tea into the harbor intensifies]
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13 minutes ago, tater said:
thanks beaurocratic nonsesne!
daflarp?!
Why the fiddly-faddley-flapjacks is NOAA licensing anything in the first place? Isn’t that the domain of the FAA, FTC, or some such? Why does SpaceX need a nod from a bunch of meteorologists and oceanographers to do their thing?
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Gettin' real.
Keep it up, guys!
I’m guessing at this point there will be no more second-flight booster recoveries at all, to make room for Block 5. Anyone know when the second B5 launch is supposed to be?
Damp you, Autocorrect, damp you straight to help.
Even She won’t use some cuss words. 
Y’all and all yer fancy clicks!
SpaceX Discussion Thread
in Science & Spaceflight
Posted
Looks like an old guard shack from when Southwest Marine was active.
Bigger concern: it’s right next to a big-S tank farm and a federal penitentiary.
Hmm... really big rockets, highly flammable liquids, and incarcerated felons... sounds like the opening to a disaster movie. 