CatastrophicFailure

Whoah, as long as you've been around you've never seen an eclipse? I'm usually cursing them cuz they happen at just the right moment to cut off solar power when I need to maneuver.

Worked better than when the Russians tried it. Tho there is lots of precedent, several of their early Moon missions and I think the US Mariner orbiters also launched with the nozzle pointing to space. (And yes, the arch IS just that big.)

Meanwhile, back on Duna, after a night of conspicuous consumption of consanguine fruitcakes, Mito Kerman gets kicked out to begin construction. First task is to set up the gantry... So, um, after several years in anaerobic storage, that fruitcake might have fermented juuuuuust a tiny bit.....

My first thought was, they better not sell me a droid with a bad motivator again!

Well, by the time I actually get that far, hopefully it'll be fixed.

Funny you should mention that... Thats exactly what I was working on before moving stress kinda shoved everything else to the side. The series does need a fitting send-off like @Shania_L's planned Duna mission. It looks like the Mün has stopped eating anything that lands there (last I checked) so perhaps one last hurrah will be in order once I get this real life crap sorted out. In the mean time, the more interesting tidbits of my casual farting around in the game usually show up in the WDYDIKSPT? thread. Something else more "serious" will eventually work its way out of my overactive imagainagion I'm sure, but this is going to be a hard act to follow. The Political Officer most definitely made the series, recapturing any hint of that... Je ne say (crap I don't speak French) whatever will be the really hard part. For the easy stuff, old mods have died but there's tonnes of interesting new ones to play with. I hear @Galileo has a nifty new planet pack out, too. I wonder if it works in 6.4 scale...

I have the mission screenshots still, but with much sadness I do think this thread has come to an end (no don't close it, Mods!). This save is now many versions out of date and is running single-digit framerates most of the time. That, and I've just been too distracted with everything else going on.

What a long, strange trip it's been. But after many years and hundreds of kilometers, for my rover crew the journey is finally nearing it's end. One last task remains: before the crew can leave, first they must tear apart their own rescue ship in order to rebuild it.

This... we do not speak of.

You can????? This will be... most useful....

. . . ? to do what, exactly?

and of course, another nod to @Ten Key Chapter 87: Ghosts of Yesterday The command deck, at least, was silent, save for the soft hum of computers and the whir of air handlers. Unfortunately, it was also dark. Only a couple of stubborn overhead lights still shone, one flickering just slightly. The arrays of blinking red and yellow lights from the displays surrounding the room melded with the flicker, and cast disconcerting shadows that twisted and moved like things alive. No, Valentina quickly concluded, this was not a place she wanted to linger either, and continued on up the ladder. Crew deck. At least the lights were on, here. Probably nothing useful, though. Best to start at the top and work down. But as she looked up, she saw that the hatch at the top of the ladder was closed. The lab. Edmund's lab. She had seen him, she had seen him... what, exactly? What had she seen? Only days ago, now it all seemed so fuzzy. Indistinct, like trying to remember a dream. Or a nightmare. Something happened to him here. Maybe up there. Behind the closed hatch. But... not unusual. Prudent, actually. The rest of the base seemed to be one enormous pressurized space, that seemed unusual. Probably standard procedure to keep this hatch closed. Valentina reached up, and gave the crank a turn. It squealed in protest, grinding with the feel of old, corroded bearings. She had to strain to get it to move at all. Finally the mechanism hit a stop, and Valentina felt the hatch release. Heaving with her shoulder, she forced it open the rest of the way. It creaked and groaned even louder than the crank, the sound seeming to reverberate through the empty base. Again, something skittered in the walls. Beyond the hatchway was only pure, inky darkness. That... is odd... she thought. There were windows in the lab. She'd seen them from the surface, seen lights glowing inside. Even if the lights went out, the low sun should give some illumination... Being a pilot, Valentina produced a flashlight, and carefully poked her head up through the hatchway. She tried to scream, but the air had been torn from her lungs. Everywhere. It was everywhere! Splashed on the walls... SAW IT smeared on the windows... SAW IT! Dried with age and black as night... FLOATS The stench, thick and ripe, stealing her breath away... IT FLOATS! And all over... SAW IT!! All over... I SAW IT! Traced by hands in shaky block letters... IT FLOATS! All over... and over... and over again... WE ALL FLOAT Her hands grew weak and she slipped back off the ladder. Falling... falling in slow motion like a nightmare. And she could see it... see the darkness take form... reach out for her... falling... floating... With some latent bit of sanity, Valentina thrust a hand out as she fell, grabbed the latch, and pulled the hatch shut with her. The bump as she hit the floor grating seemed to jolt more sense into her. She scrabbled back up the ladder in near panic and hurled the handles of the crank around and around until it latched shut before dropping back to the floor. Something thumped against it. Hard. She scuttled backwards until something solid blocked her way, eyes never leaving the hatch. Edmund... But... he hadn't been... Valentina sat there on the floor, staring up, barely daring to breathe. Expecting at any moment... But no sound ever came. No squeal of the crank, no more skittering in the walls. Eventually, she looked around. She was... next to the open door to one of the crew rooms, bathed in a little pool of light. What..? Pulling herself up, she looked at the nameplate on the door. EDGAS J KERMAN SCIENCE OFFICER Edgas..? Oh yes, the taciturn one. The one who always seemed so awkward and uncomfortable on the news reels leading up to their launch. She had met him, once, a very long time ago. Why did she always have such trouble remembering his name? Stepping into the tiny room, Valentina found the overhead light still on. It seemed... brighter, somehow. In fact, everything seemed lighter in here. All the darkness... the fear... the doubt... it was still there, but... muted. As if behind a wall. She felt more than a bit awkward herself as she looked around, being unbidden in someone's personal space. The bed was little more than a cot, its sheets lay tangled in a lump on the floor. A stack of papers from the diminutive desk had been scattered about, undisturbed after all this time, and next to an overturned glass— Valentina's eyes grew wide. Her throat spasmed involuntarily. There, not far from the glass, laying where it had fallen two years ago... A bottle of water. She picked it up with trembling hands. Not daring anymore to think, she tore the seal off and gulped it all down in a single draught. For an instant it seared at her parched throat, then became sweet, cool, blessed relief that traced its way down to her stomach. She fell to her knees, and there saw, tucked away in a corner under the table, a cache of three or four more little bottles. One by one their contents disappeared over lips cracked and dried, but even as they did Valentina could feel life returning, coursing once more through her veins. She toppled back in a heap, leaning up against the wall, and raised the final bottle up with one last swig remaining. "Mister Edgas," she gasped, "I could kiss you," then downed the last bit. It wasn't enough. She didn't think she could ever drink enough right now. But it was much, much better. She sat there for a time, just breathing, beginning to feel like a Kerbal again. But, as the Foreigners said, there was no rest for the weary. Valentina pulled herself up, grateful for the first time for the low gravity. Still not feeling quite right about it, she had a look around the tiny room again. It felt... different in here. There was no denying or brushing it away. Like... not a shadow, but the opposite of a shadow; like a lingering spirit of something gone away. Something right... amidst all this wrong. There was an old, drying photograph taped up next to the polished steel mirror. A portrait of the crew, clad in their suits and holding their helmets before a model of the Münbase. A scale Isfjell launcher poked up behind them. Edmund was at the center, of course, looking very different than last she'd seen him. Strong. Proud. His mustache still trimmed just so, to hide the old scar on his lip. What had happened to him? For now, Valentina just sadly shook her head. To his right was another face she could never forget. Always so bright and earnest. Even as international relations had soured, these three faces had been plastered across every newspaper and screen for weeks before the launch. And every single time, Billy-Bobrim Kerman had that same unbeatable, eager smile beneath his dark, bushy hair. Even in grainy monochrome newsprint, she had marveled at the boyish wonder in his eyes. She had never met him again after that hallway long ago at the KSC, but that look always stuck with her. It brought a smile to her face again now. Rounding out the crew, to Edmund's left, was... Gas-something? Valentina winced. Edgas. She had just said the name a few moments ago! It was as if her mind... rejected it, like— ...not real... She blinked, then shook it away. Edgas looked confident in the photo. In more candid settings, he had always looked overwhelmed. Startled. For a mission assignment like this, he must be very good at something. Perhaps he just didn't like the cameras? She could relate to that. Now, what else— there. She took a small book from near the mirror. An old photo album, by the looks of it. That seemed like an odd and fairly heavy thing to bring to the Mün, but she supposed the crew had personal effects mass allowances the same as she'd usually had. And something so personal probably shouldn't be looked through by the likes of her, but nevertheless... Feeling more than a bit guilty, Valentina opened the cover. A baby with a very familiar overwhelmed, startled look stared back at her. The smiling couple holding him looked old enough to be his grandparents. She flipped the page and— hmm. The baby was now a toddler with the same overwhelmed look, but the pair holding him had changed. They were much younger. She flipped again... and again... With each page, the bewildered youngster got a bit older... but the couple with him always changed. Older, younger; different faces, different smiles... sometimes looking more than a little forced. Was... was this Edgas... an orphan? Like me... Valentina's lips moved silently. Her eyes flicked back forth as pages turned, and the pattern repeated, until all at once... everything changed. Now a boy, Edgas was smiling brightly. This, despite a fading black eye and bandaged right hand, which was draped over the shoulder of an unmistakable, earnest young face, with a smile every bit as bright. Behind the pair was a new couple. Their faces drew only a vague recollection from her memory, but she could never forget that shirt. The after-image was still permanently burned into her retinas. And they bore the brightest smiles of all. Valentina continued to turn the pages, a broad smile blooming on her own face. The changing guardians with Edgas were always there, but now each photo was tempered by one of the new quartet. Just as she expected, as the boys grew, eventually little Anastasia came along, an unmistakable tuft of golden hair sticking up past those enormous eyes. Within a page or two, those eyes found her brother, and then never left. Somewhere, Valentina felt a certain pang of longing for what looked like an unusual, but very happy, family. The last page was only Edgas and Billy-Bobrim —and Anna peeking in from the background, eyes still locked on her brother— their arms draped over each other's necks again, dressed in blue caps and gowns and grinning with all they had. Not that far behind, a KSA Colossus rocket sat on its pad. Printed across the top were the words, "KSA GRADUATING CLASS No. 1." She closed the album, and laid it down carefully, almost reverently. Something so bright... in this place of darkness. Uncompelled, she closed her eyes, let something... she could feel it. She could feel it. A thousand kilometers way, or a million, like a candle flame in the black depths of the long Münar night... something... no, someone, was there. A little bundle of emotions that were not her own. Frail. Weak. Defeated. But she could feel the connection pulsing, back and forth like a second heartbeat. Drawing strength in its weakness. Drawing it... from her. Valentina straightened, beholding herself in the steel mirror. She didn't know what was going on, but it was, undeniably, going on. And... something more. With effort, she let go a little more... let herself... feel... or tune in... or whatever it was... This place... everything here... all the wrongness of it... it... it floated... it, too, pulsed... back and forth, in syncopated, opposite time to that bundle of feelings on the other side of reality. I am no hero... "No," her lips moved uncommanded, "he is." Her brow pinched at the unsolicited idea as she looked around the small space. She wouldn't find anything here, this room was a... a sanctuary, some how. A leftover image of a Kerbal she didn't know, like a shadow. Or a ghost. She was about to leave, when something caught her eye. Standing on the tips of her Münboots, being careful not to snag her loose, hanging EVA suit on anything, she fished around on a shelf high up on the wall. Now what's this? It looked like a small, translucent, pill-shaped container of some sort. Whatever was inside was thick and sticky, but more strangely, appeared to be glowing. Some sort of standardized experiment the KSA was fond of, if she remembered correctly. But what was it doing in here? Dismissing the question for later, Valentina tucked the pod away in her suit. And paused. Again not quite knowing why, she fiddled around until she could secure it inside her flightsuit. Then she left the small room behind. It crashed into her like a fallen star. The impact, the sheer force of it sent her reeling, tumbling. She hit the floor hard, scrabbling backwards. The shadows... the shadows... Not real... It's not real... The back of her head slammed against something hard. The shadows. She could see them... All of it. All the doubt, all the fear, all the wrongness of this place that had been held at bay now assaulted her with renewed strength. The shadows... She could see them... Reaching for her... "Not real... it's not real!" Scratching in the walls... thumping in the air vents... And the shadows... the shadows...! "It's not real!" Valentina pressed her hands to her head, her words dissolving to a sobbing shriek as she screwed her eyes shut. She didn't know how long it went on. Eventually, her throat became raw, and no more sound would come out. Only then did she realize the silence. Silence, save for... Plip... Plip... Plip... She opened her eyes, panting. The shadows lurked, immobile, hiding in corners. Had... had she just imagined it all..? In answer, a soft tap tap tap of little feet traced along an overhead air duct. Slowly, she rose. Edmund's door was now behind her. Dream-like, her hand came up, reaching for the knob. Something skittered in a dark corner. Her fingers touched the cold, milled surface. Suddenly Valentina jumped back, looked around, confused. What...? Her eyes moved again to the door, and she drew her hand back a little more. No... No, whatever is in there, best leave it be. She moved to the final room, her eyes still not wanting to leave Edmund's. Billy-Bobrim's door was slightly ajar; expecting something to jump out, she stood back and carefully pushed it open. The light was still on after all this time. And inside... it looked like a bomb had gone off. Clothing, papers, all sorts of things lay scattered about wherever they had fallen. A large metal cabinet had been torn from its mounts and a corner embedded into the polished steel mirror. What sort of person could do such a thing? But... amidst the chaos was one tiny refuge of sanity. On a nightstand next to the overturned bed, sat a wooden-framed, rather formally set photograph. Valentina had seen it just moments ago. It was a duplicate of the last one in... that other fellow's album. The picture of the happy family all smiling together. It was resting on what looked like an old, worn-out textbook. Field Geologist's guide to the Biomes of Kerbin, read the faded cover. Setting the photo down and gingerly opening the it, Valentina smiled at the inscription on the cover page, written in neat, orderly letters: BEST BUDZ 4-EVER! KSC KLASS 01! The dense, bone-dry text further in was peppered with pale yellow highlighting. Shaky, barely legible notes filled the margins. Here and there, the same precise hand from the inscription added some little bit of insight to them. Valentina turned the delicate sheets over as if reading from a holy book, watching the lessons play out around the edges. It went on for page after page; notes, notes on notes, analysis of noted notes. Valentina had to struggle to read the wobbly writing, reading Kerblish was a struggle for her in general, but after a while she could almost see the knowledge moving off the page and into the scholar. When she reached the end, she found a a small, equally bland award taped to the back cover: UPON SATISFACTORY COMPLETION OF REQUISITE COURSE WORK, THE KSA RESEARCH DIVISION HEREBY CERTIFIES Billy-Bobrim Kerman AS A LEVEL 1 FIELD GEOLOGIST It was dated only a few months after the photograph. As Valentina ran a thumb over the worn embossing, a bit of paper slipped out from underneath. She peered at it for a moment, and her smile widened. It was written in a beautiful, flowing hand in what looked like newer pink pen ink. Billy— I finally got my rating today! Thanx eversomuch for all your help! —Lolli She thought she could see a hint of faded lipstick on it, too. It seemed Billy-Bobrim had learned well, and payed it forward. Somehow, she wasn't surprised. Valentina set everything back as she had found it, and once more looked around the room. No, what she needed wasn't up here. Like the rest of this place, there was nothing left here but ghosts. She stepped back out into the common room, pausing, not daring to breathe, to watch the shadows. Now, nothing seemed to move. Nothing made a sound. Except... Plip... Plip... Plip... It sounded a thousand kilometers away. Like everything else, she wasn't even sure if she actually heard it or not. But the shadows... the whole base... it did seem awfully... quiet, now. Have the air handlers stopped? Sliding down the ladder to the command deck and landing with a thump, she quickly scanned over the myriad of blinking lights and other errors. No, no major failure indicators. No alarms going off. Then what...? There. A flashing red light on a console. But... her eyes twitched back and forth... this is just a video terminal. The light was indicating a new recording. That can't be right... Valentina hit a few buttons. MOTION TRIGGER: CAM13, DOCKING LEVEL. It... it was dated two years ago. The day... whatever happened, happened. Dread... darker than the deepest Münar night sank into her. A fear beyond anything this curséd place had yet shown. She knew... somehow, she knew... Plip... Plip... Plip... She didn't want to see... she knew... but she couldn't stop... her finger reached out, trance-like, and pushed the blinking red button. A grainy image appeared on the screen. The docking tunnels far below. Dim utility lights cast twisted shadows. Presently, one of them moved... and a soft, ragged voice came with it. "Don't... don't want to..." A figure emerged, collapsing against the far wall. "No... please..." That bushy hair... it was unmistakable. "No... No..." The Figure clasped hands to its head as it thrashed about. "Don't want to..." She could hear his wrenching sobs. "No!" Billy threw his head back in anguish, his face now clear on the camera. "You... you can't have him! I... I won't let you... I... I..." For a moment, he looked down at his own hands, then raised them to his eyes... "No..." Valentina breathed, "NO!" She slammed her fists uselessly against the console. Guilt flared, she tried to force herself to watch in penance, but it was just too horrible, and she turned away. Huge, gelatinous tears fell slowly to the grating below. Her shoulders heaved in answer to every scream from the tinny speaker. Then all sound abruptly ceased. Plip... Plip... Plip... Still choking on her own sobs, Valentina looked up, and saw. It. It was looking at her. It had no eyes left, but it was looking at her. Across a gulf of years, it was looking at her. Bloody lips pulled back into a grotesque smile over jagged, needle-like teeth. Its mouth moved, but the voice was in her own head. MARATH'INDE DAMANE, it hissed, I SSSSSSSSEE YOU! Valentina screamed as if casting all the air from her lungs might purge that horrible voice from her mind. Her shoulders quaked before the flood of emotion that broke over her. Silently, her hands balled into trembling fists. It was down there. It was still down there. She was going to find it. And punch it right in the face.

Never say die, Iron Eagle.

Hey SQUAD, Vanamonde's goofing off & actually playing the game again! no seriously, this is great. I had several questions but you managed to answer them already.

Ah so. Not at all surprising that it's MLP. Some dedicated fans, there.

Ok, I've got ask... where are they from?

For reference, that's longer than most of the books in the Dark Tower series and dangerously flirting with Song of Ice and Fire lengths. You're into solid Wheel of Time territory, and you've already blown away any Harry Potters, sunk Moby Dick, and confined Crime and Punishment. The Lord of the Rings, however, continues to leer down at you from it's black tower built on the corpses of a thousand dead trees.

What's that big center fuselage section from? It looks even bigger than Mk4 parts! Did you run the whole thing by hand? How do you cope with the hours of sheer boredom?

And once again we have a case of the reader analyzing the story even better than the author. Ten Key beat me to the punch, but yes it's a bit of both. Apollo astronauts really did have trouble getting their bearings and finding their "moon legs." The lack of atmosphere means objects don't fade out with distance, so between that and the complete lack of familiar sights, it was difficult to judge distance. They also had weeks of training suspended in spring-loaded lunar gravity simulators, and the ever popular Vomit Comet. Poor Val has had none of this, and has already been put through the wringer a few times with little to no rest. The fact that she's also within spitting distance of an artifact that contains the essence of an eldritch abomination from beyond reality that's had plenty of time to move into its new digs and settle in after scrambling the brains of everyone nearby, might have something to do with it. One one thing I could not find any good info on was how water behaves in low gravity. All had was a snippet from Buzz and this. So I really had to guess. Apparently NASA never told an Apollo crew to just pour some water into a beaker and describe what it does. Of all the reasons to return to the Moon, this is by far the most pressing (I'm looking at you, Jeff Bezos!).

... whew. Well I hope this gamble works. And once again, very special thanks to @Ten Key for editing help. And apologies for completely dismissing his advice now.

Chapter 86: House of Shadows Valentina slammed up against the hatch, pounding on it. She strained uselessly at the handcrank that now felt welded in place. Her breath was a ragged staccato, throat dry and face soaked. She circled around in the space that seemed to be getting smaller, trapped, panic rising in her gut. The shadows... she could see the shadows... The assault came from every direction at once. Pale specters and ghostly phantasms converged on her, tore at her, screaming with unnatural sounds. Thrashing, not bothering to contain her screams any longer, she fell to the floor. A piercing shriek drilled into her ears. She could feel them, pulling, shaking... As quickly as it began, it stopped. Valentina lay on the floor, panting, covering her helmet. Lingering clouds of dust slowly drifted away. It took her a moment to realize all was still. All, except the awful, undulating shriek. She looked around, confused, before letting out a sobbing laugh. Of course! I am such a fool! Dust mitigation. She remembered now, the dust mitigation system, it activated automatically. Probably engaged it when she opened the outer hatch. Perfectly normal. But... was the door itself automatic too? With that thought, she looked toward the inner hatch... the one something had thumped against. Or... had she imagined that, too? Get a hold of yourself, now your eyes are joining in on the— With a loud thunk as latches released, the inner hatch swung open. It absolutely, undeniably, creaked. The shrieking got louder. Just dust in the hinges. The airlock pressurized, you can hear now. All perfectly normal. Valentina rose to her feet, and took a rock hammer from the pile of tools anyway. It felt incredibly light and pointless. All she could hear was her own breath and that horrible wail. The source of that, at least, became clear as she neared the hatchway. Across, on the far wall, was a bank of four monitors. One was plainly dead, but the others were covered in flashing yellow indicators, and a few red ones. She peeked out, awkwardly turning her whole body; just moving her head only showed her the inside of her own helmet. Even that felt like it was getting smaller. A thick, heavy blob of sweat slid into her eye. Just before her, the patch of fog on her faceplate grew larger, the suit struggling to keep up with her labored breath. One wall was covered in more tools, supplies, various carts and equipment. The other— She jumped, in spite of herself. Staring back at her with faceless scrutiny was a row of hanging EVA suits. With a long breath, Valentina stepped out into the room, clutching the hammer in both hands like a lifeline. She thought if she didn't stop that ear-piecing shriek it might drive her over the edge into madness. There was a Master Caution light over the monitors; hoping it worked like every other one she'd seen, she pressed it. Mercifully, it did. The din died away, once more leaving her own breath the only sound. For a short time, breathing was all she could do, before conscious thought gradually returned. This was probably an extra status display for returning EVA's. Scanning over the monitors, nothing looked too serious. Filters long overdue for replacement, scrubbers that needed recycling. Of more serious concern, the B-block coolant loop had ruptured, but the computer had automatically shunted it to the auxiliary line, which was overloaded but holding. It looked like... yes, that caused an overheat on the #7 RTG, but again the computer had shut it down. Which was impressive, considering the computer had also shut down one of its own cores and put another two into safe mode. Valentina took a step back, looking over the whole display. She hoped that dead monitor wasn't hiding anything more serious, but overall this was very impressive. For things to be running at all by now, those KSA engineers sure knew how to— Gasping, she spun around. Trying not to breathe, her eyes darted this way and that. No, nothing there of course. For a moment, reflected in that black screen, she thought she saw... Slowly, Valentina shook her head, dislodging another blob of sweat into her eye. She couldn't hear. Couldn't see. Thought it might even be getting harder to breathe. Maybe she should take her helmet off. No, probably not wise... Her eyes wandered back to the monitors. Pressure 95 kPa, fairly normal. Humidity 12%, dry like her throat. Temperature 28C. Oh, that sounded enticingly cool! Oxium 19%, carbon dioxium 757 ppm. Hmm. That was odd. The O2 level was slightly low while the CO2 level was a touch high. Not nearly enough to be harmful, but... with no load on the life support system, the numbers should be more nominal. Unless something in here was still— No, that's just silly. Nothing could possibly be alive in here. With all the system failures, it was a wonder those numbers weren't even more off. She moved to put a hand to her temple, but found only her helmet again. All right, think. So hard to think, with her head pounding. Mouth so dry. Now... the base was a big cylinder. This was the airlock deck. Galley is below. Probably nothing useful there. Except... maybe a bottle of water. But she'd have to take her helmet off. She looked down, but again saw only the inside of her helmet. Sweat ran into both eyes. Valentina took a step back, blinking. Through the metal grating between the levels, she could see the deck above. That should be the control center. Then the crew quarters. Then the labs at the top. Should probably head for the labs, that's where— A gloved hand gripped her shoulder. Valentina let loose with a scream that drilled into her own ears inside the helmet. She spun around and drove the claw of the hammer into her attacker's... Sigh. No, she had just ruined a perfectly good EVA helmet. Her own face stared back at her accusingly, reflected in the cracked gold sunshade that now had a hammer jutting out of it. She had to get out of this helmet. She had to. Suffocating was better than this, anything was better than this! If she had to endure one more minute... Fumbling in the stiff gloves, she released the latches. There was a slight hiss as pressures equalized. She tensed. Valentina took the helmet off and drew in a shaky breath. Her eyes fluttered open. A slow exhale. The air was... stale, old. Reminiscent of all her months cooped up in space stations. A strange chemical odor overlaid it, like gunpowder. But it was cool and dry and wonderfully open. And... something else too. Old. Familiar. A sickly sweet smell, subtle, like... decay... That couldn't be right. She raised a hand, and finally was able to rub at her temples. Coherent thought was slowly returning. Now, the crew had used up their fresh food long before they left. That, and the dry recycled air... there shouldn't be anything left to decay at this point. Valentina brushed the thought aside for the moment, and looked down at her gloved hands. She might have to leave quickly, was it worth the risk? The air was obviously fine, but... With a grunt, she undid a wrist clasp. She had to hold back another scream, this time of pain. As the glove came off, so did little bits of skin. A thick ooze of sweat dribbled to floor in slow motion. Her skin was shriveled and pruny; pale, like a corpse-hand. Breath caught in her throat as she flexed. She hadn't realized how cramped the stiff glove had made it. Working delicately, her stomach clenching as more dead skin sloughed off, she undid the other clasp and let that glove fall to floor. Her hands were covered in angry red patches, throbbing with pain. Why hadn't she noticed? As she struggled for steady breath, her eyes scanned around... there. A small wash basin off to one side. Did she dare? Stale air was one thing, but water, after all this time? She gingerly turned on the faucet. A slow, clear trickle ran out. Steeling herself, she moved a hand under it. The wounds stung until her fingers twitched, but as the old sweat washed away, sweet relief followed. Valentina let the water flow over her ravaged hands for a long time, still mesmerized by the odd way it splashed and sprinkled in the low gravity. She cupped them together, and raised a thick, wobbling pool to her face. The sensation was beyond bliss. It felt like resurrection. Without hesitating to consider the durability of its electronics, she stripped off her cap-like communications carrier and wrung it out over floor. More viscous strings of sweat dribbled down to the grating below. Then she thrust it under the faucet, filling it like a basin before dumping the whole thing over her head. She gasped in pure ecstasy. Cold, life-bringing rivulets ran down her neck, flowed into her suit and all around her. Electric shivers ran up and down her spine from the exultation of it. She felt like being born again. Opening her eyes, Valentina ran her tongue over parched and dry lips. It took an act of will to keep from sticking her head under the facet and gulping water down, but she knew where it came from, here. Even the tap was placarded, DO NOT DRINK. But she could once again feel vigor returning to her weary frame. There must be something left here to drink, but for now she could press on a little longer. The first aid cabinet above the sink was raided for some soothing balm and bandages for her fingers, by then the skin that had stayed on her hands was already returning to normal. Of course she'd been imagining things. Exhausted, overheated, that was to be expected. The mind was strange, like that. Now, to be on to the lab at the top of the base. If she remembered from the documents, that had been Edmund's domain, there must be something useful— A noise drew her ear. She thought... no, there it was again. A faint scratching noise coming from an air duct going up the wall. She stared at it. A bit of loose insulation, perhaps? An errant bolt, driven by the rushing air? Or... had she really heard it at all? Cautiously, Valentina approached. No, still nothing. An unremarkable tubular duct running up the wall. She leaned her head near it, holding her breath that was once more loud in her ears. Nothing but the muffled sound of rushing air. There, see? Nothing to— She jumped back as something thumped against the inside of the pipe. It thumped again, bouncing the duct against the wall. Then a third time, leaving a dent in the thin metal. It was just... rats... she thought as she backed away, eyes wide. Yes, rats... that wasn't unreasonable. There had even been a rat on TINKAN 7, after all. Of course, it hadn't been alive, when they found it. The duct banged again, straining at its mounts. Just rats... yes, why that made perfect sense! A small group of rats had snuck aboard, this was a large facility after all. And they'd managed to survive. The crew had left literal tonnes of storable food for them. And... that would explain the smell of decay, and strange numbers from the life support system. With such a light load it was only now beginning to fail from lack of maintenance. Yes, that was it! Not at all abnormal, just some rats. She wasn't afraid of rats, surely not. Rats... here on the Mün... breeding... exposed to cosmic rays... ionizing solar radiation... and who knows what long-term effects mündust has... Unbidden, and despite her own resistance, Valentina's mind conjured up an image of a horrible, twisted creature. With beady black eyes, huge, yellowed teeth, wickedly hooked claws... and hairless, its body covered in boils and festering sores. Something that would have seemed ridiculous in one of those scary movies, but now... The pipe banged, again and again. Valentina fled up the ladder.

Chapter 85: One Small Step Ka-chunk! Valentina watched her only lifeline home drift slowly away through the lander's tiny docking window, still spinning slowly. It was an unnerving feeling. Through all her past missions, there had always been the reassurance of a reliable Zarya capsule standing by to make a quick return if something went wrong, even though she realized catastrophes were rarely that simple. Now, even that had been denied, as she floated in orbital darkness. If she made it back this far, she would have to find that tiny metal construction controlled only by a computer running far beyond its design specs, and even on the Mün, it was a very big sky. But first, she faced the more pressing task of finding another metal construction, this one abandoned and derelict for two years, and whatever... else, was down there. MechIVAN would be little help here, this revision had never been updated with landing subroutines. And yet, she found an odd sort of anticipation floating around her mind. She had once made a career out of landing things with dubious expectations, now, after all these years of flying cargo, she was a pilot again. Clinging to that thought, putting out of her mind where she was going, Valentina checked her numbers one last time, and fired the thrusters. *** The lander settled to the surface with a light bump. Valentina busied herself safing the engine and throwing various switches before a wave of vertigo nearly made her stumble. The gentle downward tug did not abate with the loss of thrust, and it took her brain a moment to recognize and rebel at the odd sensation. Fortunately, there wasn't enough room to stumble in here. There was barely enough room to stand in here. Valentina had just enough space to stand before the controls in her bulky EVA suit. The rest of the hull was filled with equipment. In the tiny space, she vainly wished for claustrophobia, to feel the hull closing in. Or anything to make going outside seem preferable. She could feel the press of this place, every cell in her body was screaming at her to leave. Now. While she could. Awkwardly, she turned around toward the hatch as another wave of dizziness washed over her. Valentina was beyond comfortable in microgravity; she had spent more time in orbital freefall than anyone else alive. The crushing acceleration of a launch barely registered anymore, it was simply part of the job. Steadying herself, she held a pen in front of her face, and watched as it fell to the floor in slow motion. She knew why it did, she understood all the physics behind it completely. But that didn't make seeing it any less wrong. Despite her comfort in zero gravity and excess gravity, this one-sixth gravity was affecting her in ways she hadn't anticipated. Or perhaps, she thought, glancing back toward the derelict Münbase framed in the landing window, it was this place. She kept expecting some change, some measure of excitement, perhaps a feeling of profundity, even simple curiosity. After all, only seven other people had ever set foot here. Yet all she could feel was a pervasive sense of wanting to be anywhere other than here, and a cold dread that seeped into her bones like the taiga winter. So no sense in drawing it out any longer than she had to. Valentina made her last few checks, and hit the cabin vent switch. She felt her suit inflate as the noise of equipment died away, until the only sound left was her own breath thundering in her ears. With one final check, she swung the mercifully large EVA hatch open and stepped out onto another world. She paused on the cylindrical shroud over the huge toroidal fuel tank. It gave her a moment to collect herself as this other world spun while she clung helplessly to the lip of the hatch. If the vertigo didn't pass soon, she was going to have a big problem. It was a long walk. After a while, Valentina's brain and eyes finally agreed on the situation, and she was able to take in the surroundings. She raised a hand to shield against the glare from the stark, grey desolation beyond, then remembered to slide down her copper-tinted sunscreen. The landscape looked no less foreboding tinted orange-yellow. The walls of the expansive crater stretched high on every side, leaving no discernible horizon. That and the sheer emptiness of it all battered her with a bizarre mix of claustro- and agoraphobia. Valentina looked up, and gasped aloud in spite of herself. The gibbous blue globe of Kerbin shined down on her. As always, it was beautiful, but looking unarguably up at it only reinforced the feeling of being down, as if she had descended to some stark underworld. She shook the thought from her head, and instantly regretted it as the entire world seemed to shake along with it. Slowly, all her movements loose and uncoordinated, she made her way onto the ladder and began the short descent. She paused again at the last rung, glancing down to the grey surface below. Ordinarily, this was the part where the intrepid explorer would say something profound and gracious, for all Kerbalkind. There would be none of that for Valentina, after all, she was already dead. Even her familiar snarkiness had evaporated with the last of the air in the lander cabin, lost in the conflicted gravity of this place. No, there was no humor here. Without a word, stepped off the ladder. She worked her way around the fuel tank, feeling very wobbly, a hand braced against it as if stumbling in the dark. From around 300 or so meters away, she surveyed the facility. The cylindrical base itself towered above the surrounding terrain. It was painted in a broad checkerboard pattern, the black patches melding with shadows, dark as pitch, cast by the sun hanging low in the equally black sky. The rest had once been white, but two years exposed on the Mün had left it coated with dust, turning it a dingy tan. The odd contrast gave Valentina the impression of a dilapidated building that had partially collapsed. Finally, with no more support to cling to, she set out across the open surface. She toppled over right away, having an unusually long time to contemplate the powdery grey dust before her faceplate hit it. Working shakily back to her feet, she pushed on through sheer will. It was maddeningly slow progress. The prototype EVA suit was stiffer than she was used to, it worked with the low gravity to turn all her motions into clumsy flailing. Trying to watch the landscape was no help, either. Objects didn't fade and blur in the distance, everything seemed absolutely crisp. These strange perceptions made it hard to judge distance; she tripped over a rock that still looked meters away, stumbled across flat ground while expecting a shallow crater. Even based on all she'd read, everything seemed off. Exaggerated. Dream-like. The surreal proportions, her awkward motions like she could barely move, it was like a— Breath caught in Valentina's throat as she whipped her head to the side. She stood motionless, not even daring to breathe, staring off towards a hill. For a moment, just a moment, she could have sworn she saw... A long sigh escaped her lips, leaving just a hint of fog on the plexiglass. She shook her head. Just her mind, playing tricks. Looking again at the ominous structure ahead, Valentina realized what was so familiar. This place, it was like a nightmare. The one where the monster chases, and you can't run away. When she finally made it to the base proper, sweat was clinging to her face like a greasy syrup in the low gravity. Here, much of the regolith was disturbed with footprints and trails, making it a little easier to get her bearings. The shadows were still wrong, though; still too dark. She went out of her way to avoid walking through any. Staying here during the long Münar night must have been horrible. Rising nearby like silent sentinels were two enormous descent stages. Isfjell landers. The solar-powered one still had its floodlights on, she noted. A large rover was parked by the main ladder, good. She would need it to get to the anomaly. Hopefully it still ran. Everything here other than that one lander stage was nuclear powered, but none of the exterior lights were on. She could see light in one of the base windows, however, so some systems must still be-- Her breath caught again. Despite the sweat, a chill chased up her spine. In that window... something moved. No, impossible. No one had been here in two years. Without maintenance, the whole place probably depressurized months ago. Something in the window shifted again, and she could see it was just a flickering light. There. Nothing to worry about. Perfectly expected, why, the place was probably filled with flickering lights. The weight of that thought slowly sank into her. An abandoned, crumbling building filled with flickering lights. A certain word kept trying to worm its way into her mind. She dared not even give it thought. Come now, if you believe in monsters, it's no stretch to also believe... in ghosts. She tried to push the thought away. Besides, no one actually died in there. No, if even half of what you've heard is true, what happened in there was far, far worse. Valentina tried to swallow, only to find her mouth suddenly dry. Must be this dehumidified, recirculated suit air. Again she gave her head a hard shake, stumbling over to the ladder as vertigo surged once more. Once everything stopped spinning, it looked like a long way up to the hatch. Taking the uprights in her gloved hands, she clawed her way up. You are not welcome here. You are alien. You are trespassing. Trespassing in a hau— She smacked her helmet so hard the world spun again. PЦTIЙS ЗДЯS,* I nearly thought it out loud! Dibella always loved foreign movies, especially scary ones. Valentina had sat through many with her, quietly trying not to giggle. Now, every single one came rolling through her mind like a macabre parade. They didn't seem so funny anymore. Stop it, you're just scaring yourself, giving your mind leave to play its tricks. That's exactly what someone in one of those scary movies would say, right before the ghoul appeared! Voices chided back and forth within her mind. "Shut up!" Valentina cried out, squeezing tears from her eyes. As she flailed, her boot slipped off the ladder, and for a brief instant she was weightless again. Even in the low gravity, the mass of her suit and its equipment pulled her down, wrenching at her arm as she caught herself. She swayed there, scrabbling, trying to find purchase before embracing the ladder once more. Panting, just trying to hold herself up, she looked around at the shadows, as if expecting something to have heard. Finally, she managed to climb up to the outer hatch. Maybe... maybe the hand crank wouldn't turn. Yes, maybe the base didn't lose pressure, maybe the departing crew deliberately repressurized the lock to keep anyone else from entering. If it was still pressurized, the crank wouldn't turn and there'd be no way in. Just give it a little nudge, and she could forget this whole nonsense and go-- The crank spun effortlessly, smooth as glass. Silently, she cursed. Too smooth. Maybe... the mechanism was broken, and the hatch wouldn't even-- The hatch swung inward, creaking ominously. Wait, did she really hear..? This isn't like you. You're doing this to yourself, letting some silly movies and a stressful situation get the best of you. You didn't hear that hatch creak open, you didn't see shadows move. Stop being ridiculous. "Yes, of course. Ridiculous..." Valentina gave a weak laugh, and hauled herself into the airlock. But not before taking another uncertain look at the shadows outside. They seemed... longer. The lander was little more than a speck across an empty sea of grey. Empty, except for the shadows. She could almost see them... no, that would be ridiculous. She stepped back from the open door, watching it, as if afraid it might close on its own. The lock was dark, of course; several lights had stopped working. There was no telling what color the walls had been originally, in only a few weeks of service they had been scoured and coated by mündust until they simply blended into the darkness. Off to one side was a pile of worn-out handtools. There was a window in the inner hatch. With one last glance to the open outer door, Valentina approached with caution. This, too, had been scoured by the abrasive dust, frosted until only vague shapes could be seen in the other room. Breath thundering loud in her ears, she stared into it, moving her face closer. Something moved. Valentina gasped and jumped back. No... no that's quite impossible. Nothing could possibly be alive in there. Just more mind tricks, shadows, perhaps another failing light. Steeling herself, she crept close once again. Her breath sounded like the pounding of the ocean in the small space of her helmet. She craned her head this way, then that, trying to peer into the murky space. There, see? Absolutely nothing to— Something thumped against the glass. She stumbled back, a scream barely contained. For a moment she flailed, helpless and off balance in the low gravity. Her head whipped around just in time to see the outer hatch slam shut with a resounding, shuddering crash.

After agonizing over it for far too long, I think I'm going to go ahead and break this next chapter up. It's starting to get away from me while evolving in ways I didn't quite expect. Which means I should have something up some time this week. The early sections still need a lot of editing. But rest assured things have been slowly creeping along still.

What about lasers, can they have lasers? Everything's better with lasers...asdfasdfasdfasdf I see you there Burdous

Next challenge: Spell out something amusing like that and launch it as a space station!