CatastrophicFailure

This we most certainly.... do not speak of.

This is useful. It would be even more useful if you, um, used that handy "warp till next morning" button so we can better see what's going on. Just sayin...

It might have something to do with the FOOF used in the manufacturing process... or possibly from taunting it.

It.... it's not the vomiting, is it?

Can't resist an invitation like that. Lesee what I got here... Name: Pickled Mosquito Head, 1.5-5 kilo bottle. Company: Glorious Ministry of Sustenance of Ussari Union! Source: Corrective farm, Kerberian Oblast, hand-fed by only finest political prisoners! Backstory: Traditional delicacy of fearless, stalwart northern dwellers, now available Union-wide as long as your papers are in order, Comrade... Type: Anopheles messeae gigans, vinegar, spices Meal Designation: Side dish served with borscht and pelmeni, larger heads often served as entree with ukha and side of humidity. Meal Type: Mosquito head, pickled. Not for export. Name: Cheeseburger Company: McKerbal's™ Source: Found wilting under a heat lamp. Age unknown. Backstory: It's a cheeseburger! Traditional staple and virtual national dish of Kleptogart. Kleptogart, fork yeah!™ Type: Anopheles messeae gigans, vinegar, spices Meal Designation: Meat byproducts, non-meat byproducts, non-food byproducts, dairy byproducts, Certified GMO® Wilted Lettuce, wheat gluten, non-wheat gluten, non-gluten gluten, unidentified seeds that are probably safe, pink slime. Meal Type: Any time a rubbery, tasteless, slightly crunchy but extremely cheap footstuff is needed. Name: Hull Sealant Space Mush Company: Layland-Wutani™, Building a Better World® Source: *scraaaatch* SPACE AGE SUPERFOOD! SPACE-MUSH, latest celebrity diet craze! Erases wrinkles, smooths cellulite, fades age spots, treats syphilis, and cures gout! Order now, only √19.95! BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE! For only √199.95, you'll get the new variety pack! Featuring Tasty Original™, plus other great flavors like Wallboard™, Elmer's Glue™, Playdoh™, Spackle™, and Bathroom Caulk™! BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE! Order within the next five minutes and we'll send you a case of New™ Tangy Epoxy™ ABSOLUTELY FREE!!! Call now, operators are standing by!* *"Space Mush™" is not an actual food product, not for Kerbal consumption. If accidental ingestion occurs, do not induce vomiting, call your local poison control center immediately. CORROSIVE: Do not swallow. Do not inhale vapors. If eye exposure occurs, flush with water for 13.5 minutes and contact local coroner's office. Do not expose to flame. Do not expose to subfreezing temperatures. Do not expose to actual space. Do not taunt Space Mush™. Store in a cool, dry place. These statements have not been evaluated by the Food and Drug Administration. Not intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any disease. May cause vomiting, profuse sweating, body odor, explosive diarrhea, severe intestinal blockage, more vomiting, hives, willies, loss of hair, loss of vision, reptile dysfunction, projectile vomiting, priapism, dengue fever, loss of balance, thinking you can dance when you can't, increased gambling or other overpowering urges, visual, tactile, or auditory hallucinations, trouble swallowing, runny nose, dizziness, gas with oily discharge and/or rectal incontinence, nasal sores, glaucoma, cataracts, internal bleeding, nausea, sleep disturbance, constipation, flatulence, and even more vomiting, depressed mood, trouble concentrating, sleep problems, crying spells, aggression or agitation, changes in behavior, sudden numbness or weakness, blurred vision, sudden and severe headache or pain behind the eyes, sometimes with vomiting, loss of appetite, dark urine, clay-colored stools, jaundice (yellowing of the skin or eyes), fever, chills, body aches, flu symptoms, purple spots under the skin, easy bruising or bleeding, vomting until you beg for death that won't come, and a greatly increased likelihood of punching Krakens in the face. If found, do not handle, do not make eye contact, back away slowly and contact local authorities. Batteries not included.

Indeed, my first forays into 6.4 scale were quite, well, Kerbal. Turns out suborbital is actually harder. The Ussaris did it right, they used sounding rockets.

Once again, much thanks to @Ten Key Chapter 63: Words, Words, Words... Valentina jerked awake from the nightmare, her head darting back and forth, panicked, searching for... Whatever it was, it was gone now. She let out a long breath, and hugged her knees. An insistent chill against her drew her intention. She pulled the Münstone from beneath her shirt. It was cold to the touch again, not freezing, but she had the feeling it had been even colder a moment ago. It seemed to warm much faster than a big lump of metal should as she turned it over in her hands. The brilliant, lens-shaped crimson stone almost seemed to glow, probably just a trick of the morning sunlight streaming in the window. She turned it this way and that, watching the light refract and dance within. The stone was quite translucent, but Valentina realized she couldn't see the back of the titanium setting through it. It just seemed to go on and on forever, filled with fragile shafts of light. There was a sudden, unpleasant sense of déjà vu... like she was falling into the stone. It didn't feel that unusual, just a big gemstone. Not that she had much experience with such things. Solid, yet as she ran a thumb over the surface Valentina marveled at how smooth it was. Slick, almost as if it were wet-- Her eyes widened with recognition. It seemed like a lifetime ago, could it really only have been a few months? The way the light played inside the stone, the sense of falling... no, rising... rising toward the light... It reminded her of a time she had risen through an olive sea, at the very edge of life, surrounded by ominous shadows... and fragile shafts of light stretching on into infinity. She lifted the Münstone and frowned at it. What is this thing, anyway? Her eyes moved to the reddish bands across her fingers, punctuated here and there by a tiny blister. It looked like frostbite, but surely that couldn't be right. Just another trick of the light, or perhaps some allergic reaction... Rising, she moved to the mirror over her small sink. The stripes across her neck were only a little worse, barely even an itch. A few larger spots on her chest. And yet... Last night, listening to Chadvey, the stone had burned, burned, not with ice but with fire. Burned with all the intensity of her nightmares. Yet it hadn't left a single mark on her. Dibella had said that according to legend, Münstones had mystical powers. That was just silly stories and and old fairy tales... ...right? With a sigh, she pushed the thoughts away and dressed. She needed to go talk to Gene. Why could no one see what was happening around here? Last night, Chadvey had gone on to mention how this 'Layland Kerman' had built his empire. Buying patents, stealing designs. Running other companies into bankruptcy and then snatching them up for a song. She paused. How does one purchase an entire company, even a bankrupt one, for a song? Perhaps that's why Ol' Sam's bar was so popular. It all seemed very strange, but these were strange people with strange laws. Anyway, maybe a- she rolled her eyes- foreign perspective could could bring light to the situation. Make Gene see reason. Layland's rockets had saved the Ussari Space Program, but... it was different here. The Union had the Imperium to keep Layland in check, he could never scheme against them. Only... hadn't the Empress done just that? Outmaneuvered the Imperium on their own territory? Bah, more politics! She'd been in this strange place too long, now she was even starting to think like them, with their constant schemes and games. If everything Chadvey had said was true... If everything she had seen with her own eyes was true... Yes, these foreigners could use some simple Ussari sensibility. It was so obvious, why couldn't they see it? Sighing again, she slipped the Münstone over her head. No time for fairy tales and stories now. And paused. The stark shadows from the late morning sun seemed to move and dance for a moment. Drifting clouds perhaps. She looked again to the stone. This was Dibella's. This was home. She shifted it back over her head again, tucked it away beneath her shirt, and reached for the door. Ugh, why couldn't they see what was right in front of their faces? *** The elevator doors binged open, and Valentina stepped out into a cacophony of clacking typewriters. She made her way past them, nodded to Sally, the ever-smiling secretary behind the big desk at the end of the room, then headed down the long hallway to Gene's office. Like that office, the narrow hall was festooned with space-themed artwork and various photographs. Valentina paused at one now, one she must have passed before without noticing. In it, a group of smiling people drove shovels into the ground. She recognized Gene in the center, a bit younger if every bit as haggard. Flanking him on one side was a regal-looking lady who could only be the Queen of Omork. On the other, a handsome fellow she remembered from other pictures as a former President of Kleptogart. He looked quite young to hold such an office; a shame, what happened to him. On the other side of the Queen was a Kerb who was the spitting image of poor Jebediah. His brother, Bob, she surmised. And opposite him, next to the President... He didn't look all that remarkable. He bore the same official smile as the others, wore the same finely-tailored clothes. Even had an undeniably regal bearing. Valentina hadn't missed J.R. standing just off to his side, hands folded, with that ever-present feral smile. This must be Layland Kerman. He didn't look like a murderer, but, she supposed, such people rarely did. Raised voices further down the hall pulled her attention away from the photograph. Gene's door was open, as it always was, and it appeared he already had a visitor. It sounded like Chadvey. Feeling a bit guilty, she crept closer. Not eavesdropping at all, mind you, not her, just patiently waiting her turn to see him. Not her fault if they were carrying on so loudly she could clearly hear them. Clearly, if she inched another step closer, leaned over and cocked her head just so... "Hogwash, Gene!" Chadvey spat, "this is hogwash and you know it!" "Just calm down, Chadvey," Gene said placatingly, "you knew this was coming. We all did. We can't continue like this." "You're putting hundreds of people out of work! Rockomax's gambled everything on us, we can't just shove them aside!" "They haven't delivered. They've had every chance we can give them but they just can't make that booster work. Unless you want everyone here to be out of a job, we've got to move on." "Bob will come through. He always has. He knows the stakes..." Chadvey's voice suddenly trailed off. Valentina leaned in a bit closer. "Gene... Why are you looking at me like that?" He said with a barely perceptible tremble, "why are you looking at me like that, Gene?!" Gene spoke slowly, fumbling over his words, "I... was going to make an announcement later... try to get everyone together... it's... well, there's been... "What is it? What's happened?!" Valentina frowned. This didn't sound good. She glanced back down the hall, no one could see with the turn at the end, and leaned closer still. "It's Bob... he's... well, they say... they think he left his kar running... when he closed his garage last night... never showed up at his office. By the time they found him... it was... I'm sorry..." "Ach, bloody hells!" Valentina drew back as she heard Chadvey stomping and cursing around the small room, "bloody, bloody hells!" A shadow seemed to draw over her. Bob... Jebediah's brother, the founder of Rockomax. The poor Kerb... "It's Layland!" A hand slapped against wood, "he's behind it and you know it, Gene!" "Please, calm down. That's crazy talk. It was an accident. Just a horrible, unfortunate accident," something in Gene's voice said he really wanted to believe that, "these things happen..." "And this is how you remember him? By throwin' what he built under the bus before his body's even cold?!" Chadvey railed. "Now you just watch yourself!" Gene shot back, "this was the Board's decision. I fought this thing kicking and screaming as long as I could!" "The Board of Directors doesna' know a haggis from its own ar--" "They're still the Board. They make the decisions around here. Rockomax hasn't fulfilled their contractual obligations. Besides, you of all people should be happy to see the Mule moved up the schedule." Mule? What was the KSA doing with small horses? Valentina frowned. She shouldn't be here. This wasn't her business. But curiosity... what was that figure of speech about the cat? "Happy that Layland used his key to the Patent Office to steal mah designs?!" "You know that design work done for the Agency becomes the Agency's property for the duration. The Company--" "Wait, the Company? It's the Company now? As if it's the only one?" Gene grumbled, "Layland Heavy Industries has a valid license from the KSA to produce the Mule. You know this. They've had multiple suborbital test flights of all stages of the new launcher. Successful test flights." Chadvey seemed to stumble briefly, "we've got flight-ready hardware sitting in the back of the VAB, Rockomax was just tooling up for the rest of the DUOS production run. Couldn't we at least give them that much?!" "It's been discussed. Integration with the Layland stage would take months. By that time, their Mule production line will be up and running. I'm sorry, Chadvey, there's just no other alternatives at this point. The contracts go to the Company now. Look, even in the best case, DUOS was a dead end. We all knew that. It just doesn't have the endurance..." "Endurance? What d'you mean, endurance? It's go to low orbit for a few days not to the bloody--" The room, the hall, the whole world seemed to go silent, save for the distant ticking of a clock. Around Valentina, unnoticed, the shadows shifted. For her part, she dared not even breathe. And then, Chadvey Kerman let loose with a tempest of guttural, vowelless syllables that could only be Gednalnan swear words. "Bloody hells! All the Nine Bloody Hells! Of all the-- so that's what this is really about! Blind me, Ah'm s'bloody stupid!" "Chadvey, just please calm down..." "The Mün!" Valentina jumped as a hand slammed down on the desk again. Distantly, she wondered if the shouting had drawn anyone else's attention, but didn't dare look. "You wanna send someone to the bloody Mün!" "Please, keep your voice down!" Gene strained. "Blast it, Gene you're going t'get someone killed! We're not ready yet!" "The Board thinks an audacious program with a clearly defined goal will synergize public sup--" "We've barely gotten anyone into orbit! Not even the bloody Ussaris--" The Mün? She drew back again. This, this must be what the Kommissar wanted her to find out! A new KSA craft capable of reaching the Mün. But to what end? Chadvey was right, the only talk she'd ever heard back home was entirely academic, not even the Union could send a ship to the Mün! At least, not if they wanted them to come back. Alive. She needed to hear more. Carefully, still not daring to breathe, she inched closer to the doorway. Then jumped back, barely stifling a gasp as Chadvey's hand slammed against the far side of the thin wall. She could just see the tips of his fingers gripping the door frame. "Blind me! Cor, blind me, Ah'm so bloody stupid," Chadvey whispered only a few centimeters away... where only Valentina could hear, "he's doin' it again... tear ourselves apart..." "I'm sorry Chadvey, I really am," Gene said consolingly, "but this is out of my hands. I'm only the Flight Director..." Valentina felt Chadvey stir through the wall, "flight director..." he breathed. Muffled thumps as he stalked back across the office, then a soft creaking as he leaned over Gene's desk, "then send me." "What?" Gene breathed, "you? To the Mün?!" "You're the Flight Director, only you have the authority to choose the mission crews. So you send me." "I... can't do that..." she could almost hear Gene shrinking back, "we can't risk you, you're too..." The desk creaked more, and all at once, that dangerous edge found Chadvey's voice again, "you do this, Gene, or Ah'll go see mah damn fool brother, the King of Gednalna. And shut. This. Place. Down." Gene's own voice was barely a whisper, now, "you... you wouldn't..." then questioningly, "you... you couldn't...?" "Ah'm the thirteenth son of King Tyrion I, the Spider of Edinkergh, Ah grew up- survived- in his court." Valentina imagined Chadvey's face only a hair's breadth from Gene's. "Ah've learnt how to pull a few strings," he hissed. "You... want this that bad?" Awe plain as Gene spoke. "No Gene, Ah don't," Chadvey said quietly, consolingly, "Ah want nothing to do with it. But Ah kinna let you risk anyone else on this fool's errand. And maybe if it's mah face up there... those fools will think just a little bit harder about it." Tension hung in the air. Valentina wondered when she'd last taken a breath. Above her, the shadow played. It was silly, but... it seemed like the whole world hung on this moment. "All right. All right, you win, Chadvey," Gene finally said after a long sigh, "you'll be the first Kerbal on the Mün. I give you my word." Valentina let out an achingly long breath herself, and rested her head against the wall. "You might as well have a seat again," said Gene, sounding a bit more like himself, "we have a lot to go over." Shuffling papers, and more muted voices came from the room. Valentina frowned. Well, it was plain she wouldn't get a chance to talk to Gene right now. Best make herself scarce before-- The shadow shifted again... Click-click ...and the soft, metallic noise made her blood run cold. "Well, now. It is amazin' what y'all can overhear listenin' in at doorways. Ain't it?"

GOOD! CONGRADUMAFRICKINLATIONS! Do NOT do Kerbal things! Do honeymoon things! Do honeymoon things till neither of you can walk straight. Do not even THINK of Kerbal things.

I'll take "things the author can't comment on" for $1000, Alex. <slow grin> All Things Serve the Beam

Probably goes nowhere very fast.

This. The whole point of space tourism isn't the floating around part, it's the space part. And even one of these little suborbital hops will get you considerably more floating around time than the $50,000 vomit comet. If not for Virgin Galactic's accident a couple years ago we might have seen it by now, Bezos does seem to be making slow progress tho. Last I heard, SpaceX has no plans to offer tour flights.

My earliest (mental) drafts here had Jeb accepting an offer he couldn't refuse and retiring to a tropical beach somewhere. But then I got to thinking, naw, that is NOT Jeb's style.

So... did anyone notice that a certain ahem competitor of SpaceX has jumped on the live webcast bandwagon?

That'll buff right out...

SSTU labs. Awesome, awesome stuff. There's a larger, 3-kerb fueled lander can too, and tons of clusterable historically-based engines. I might keep goofing about with this save just to unlock everything, which I had these bits in my 1.0.5 64k hack.

Did something I don't usually do and went to the Mün Apollo style. (pic heavy!) Soyuz resemblance absolutely not ironic! So with that out of the way, I'm finally feeling more myself again. Time to go wake the Political Officer up... Note to self: don't forget to recover Leelinne and Mel...

A pilot, a scientist, and an engineer walk into a bar together... .

So after much delay, here it is. Special thanks to @Ten Key for playing editor again. Chapter 62: Casting Out The hatch swung open to the protesting groan of hinges already rusted from the warm salt air. As Valentina had suspected, the route to the rooftop was the same as the VAB back home. Right down to that same, angular emblem in the center of the hatch. Her rumpled uniform ruffled as a sigh of breeze wafted past, the sweat still soaking it causing a pleasant chill. Off to the west, the sun was slowly sinking to the mountains surrounded by a mantle of blood, and not even the clouds dared cross it. She took this in for a moment, then, with a sigh and a jarring crash of metal, she slammed the hatch and-- "Bloody hells would yah mind keepin' it down?!" "Mister Chadvey?" She blinked. "No, the other-- oh, bah! S'pose you can pull up a..." he looked around at the various bits of roof machinery, "thing, and sit a spell." Valentina plopped down on a... thing next to Chadvey. Apparently he hadn't changed after the funeral either. "Fancy a wee nip?" He said, offering a heavy, ornately cut crystal bottle filigreed with gold. She took it, frowned at the dark liquid inside, then shrugged and had a swig. And instantly regretted it. "Gah, is real!" Valentina wheezed when her powers of speech finally returned. "Aye," Chadvey nodded, taking the bottle back, "hundred and fifty year old barrel-aged highland naln." "Taste like rocket nozzle!" Chadvey stared at it for some time, crimson light reflecting off his sweat-sheened face. "The bottle alone's worth more than most folks see in a year," he finally said, not looking up, "but Ah suppose... royalty does have its privilege," and spat. "You... do not care for your royal title," not a question. "Titles," he sighed. "Is more than one?" "Delah," Chadvey said with a wave of his hand, "many. Sir Agatha Alphonse Ritonkulus Winthrope Kerman IV, RSTLNE, PDQ, Most Noble Order of the Panty and Stocking (Honi soit qui mal y pense)." Valentina could only blink at the ramshackle combinations of syllables. "Your name is...?" The question began to form, but after a quick glance from Chadvey, "...very long." "Aye," he nodded, "m'brother's goes on for a good page and a half, takes him thirty minutes just to sign anythin'. But that's how it goes. Signin' things and decreein' things and changin' lives with the stroke of a pen. Ah grew up on a hundred hectare estate surrounded by such nonsense, lords and ladies and servants." "I grew up in hand-made cabin in woods, surrounded by things that would like to eat me." Chadvey laughed bitterly, "well you know what it's like, then. Chew yah up an' spit yah out. Care naught but for their own interests. Always scheming, plotting. Tis all a game to them, just a silly game of Houses. Or thrones, even." Valentina frowned at him, but he didn't seem to notice. She'd come up here for a bit of peace, to think. Chadvey, it seemed, just wanted to talk. Or perhaps, needed to. She rubbed absently at the Münstone once again beneath her blouse. Perhaps... that wasn't so bad. "Ah've done nothing to warrant any titles," he huffed, "just born to the right parents. Wanted no part of it, mind you, but still Ah stood there before mah father an' brother an' said the words, shook the hands, drank the drinks," he paused to do this as well, "all for the sake of politics." "I hate politics!" They said in unison, looked at each other, and smiled. Chadvey leaned back, turning the bottle over in his hands as he spoke, the setting sun glinting off it in a thousand thousand colors, "Ah ran as soon as Ah could. Signed on as an able-bodied seakerb on a merchant ship, traveling up an' down the coast. Saw the world. Ah'd stay here or there, thinking, 'this place is different. This place is sincere.'" "But it never was," he picked up a small pebble, and hurled it over the edge of the rooftop, "every place has its games. Ah'd see it, and Ah'd run again. Garnered quite the following back home, it seemed. 'Intrepid princeling travels the world,' the stories said. All carefully massaged by the game masters to serve their ends. Long as Ah kept mah head down, and didna do anything too dense, Ah'd always find whatever Ah needed waiting at the local Royal Bank branch." Another pebble flew over the railing, "and just like that, Ah realized Ah was right back in the game. Ah'd never left at all. Just a face and narrative to serve someone else. By the Nine bloody Hells, Ah was so sick of it. Ah thought of joining a monastery in Kednarm, giving up material possessions, cloistered from the outside world. The life of an ascetic. Besides, they made some damn fine brandy there. Was on mah way there, passing through Kleptogart, when Ah heard about J--" Chadvey's throat seemed to clamp shut on the word, teeth clenched, his Adam's apple twitching up and down in spasming waves. For a long time, he just sat there, his eyes vacantly searching the roof structures. Myriads of thoughts filed through Valentina's head, but in the end, she just pushed them away, and put a consoling hand on Chadvey's arm. "The young Kerb, in the photograph, in the bar," she said softly, "who is he?" Chadvey didn't move, only squeezed his eyes shut, casting down a tear the sparkled like diamond in the fading light. A thousand emotions played across his face. When he opened them again, he was looking at something a lifetime away. "Jebediah Kerman," he breathed, "the greatest Kerb Ah've ever met." A hand waved over the sprawling compound far below, "he did this. All of it. Well, planted the seed, really. O'course, back then this was all just worthless mosquito-infested swampland nobody wanted. Jeb owned a junkyard, just there, where the lake is now. Bloody stupid place for a junkyard, between the swamp and the sea. Even his junk was junk." Then, a fond smile lit Chadvey's face, and suddenly he was seeing something much closer, "but his enthusiasm was infectious. He started with just Werner and Gene, his brothers Bob and Bill. They... they had this crazy idea that they could put a Kerbal into space, with a rocket bodged together from whatever they found lying by the side of the road. But no matter how hard they tried, everything was always exactly 6.4 times harder than Jeb figured it should be." "But he never gave up, never would let anyone else, either. They just rebuilt and tried again. And again. He drew people to himself, beckoned them like a beacon in the darkness. They came from all over. People nobody else wanted. Ah never even knew him that well, came a bit late to the game, but..." he trailed off, once again staring a thousand meters away. Valentina stared at him, his shaggy red hair dancing in the rising evening breeze. There seemed to be a few more gray strands mixed in, now. "So... what happened to him?" Her voice was barely a whisper. Perhaps the sun slipped behind a bold cloud on the horizon, or perhaps not, but Chadvey's face darkened. She could see shadows there, of something long restrained, old and... dangerous. The muscles in his forearms strained against the skin, and a lesser bottle surely would have shattered in his grip, as his eyes focused to a razor's edge on it. "A young... entrepreneur, by the name of Layland Kerman," he hissed through clenched teeth, "he betrayed and murdered Jedediah." "Layland..." Valentina breathed, "Layland... Heavy Industries?" "Aye, the same. Still Layland Propellium, back then." "But, if he has done this, how does he walk free?!" "No proof," Chadvey said, and spat, leaning back against a metal box, "Layland found Jeb around the same time Ah did. The only person Ah've ever known who could rival his passion. They became fast friends, and with Jeb's ingenuity and Layland's financing, we finally saw some real progress. Sent empty capsules into space and got back something that didna look like a briquette more often than not." "For a few fleeting, beautiful moments," he laid his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, letting the wind blow hair across his face, "...everything was perfect." For a few fleeting, gravid moments, the two sat there in silence as the sun finally dipped behind the jagged mountains, leaving a parting shot of brilliant ruddy colors across the sky. Valentina watched Chadvey's face, there in the dwindling light, half hidden by his ruffled hair. She could see the subtle creases in the skin where wrinkles would one day settle, yet he seemed far too young for even that. She wondered, by the evanescent twitches in his cheeks, if the demons he now wrestled had something to do with that. At length, Chadvey spoke again, the light behind his eyes fading with the words, "but it didna last, of course. Such things never do. Jeb's dreams were grand, but Layland's... they were grandiose. He wanted to commercialize the effort, sell it to as many governments as could pay. Use the proceeds to expand it more and more. After pocketing a good chunk, too, naturally. He wanted to make Kerbals a spacefaring species, was obsessed with going to Jool..." "Jool?" Valentina frowned, "why Jool?" "He never really would say. Just prattled on about 'power' and 'future.' He and Jeb eventually had a falling out over it. They parted amicably enough, with a smile and a handshake. Or so we all thought," here, Chadvey paused to brush his hair from his face, not seeming to notice when it fell right back down, "when the day came, Ah was the last one off the gantry. Triple-checked the hatch, did the final close-out. Ah knocked on the tiny window, gave Jeb a thumbs up. His smile was bigger than ever that day. It seemed invincible." His gaze reached out over the indigo waters to the east, his eyes tracking something that wasn't there, "the rocket rose with a noise like thunder, arced out over the sea. Every data point was exactly on mark, every parameter dead center. The engine shut down within a tenth of a second of nominal. Then, at the very moment Jeb crossed the Kerman line into space, it exploded." Chadvey's eyes dropped to the floor again, but she didn't think he was seeing anything, anymore. He had finally reached that far away place he had been searching for. "The recovery team saw what was left of the capsule hit the water, said it must have been doing over a hundred. We never could recover it. We found just enough to be... sure. "Jeb was brilliant in many ways, but he didna know a damn thing about the law," and now the darkness returned, turning Chadvey's face into a deeper shadow among shadows as the last of the evening light faded, "within a month, Layland owned the junkyard lock, stock, and rusty barrel, along with the rights to every scrap of paper and cocktail napkin Jeb had ever so much as scribbled upon. He pillaged what he could, bulldozed the rest, and sold the junk for scrap before slinking off back to Exast. But even that wasn't enough, oh no. He wanted to send a message, a 'good-faith' offerin', he called it. He had the entire site excavated down thirty meters, dumped the fill into the sea, then let any company who'd pay enough dump their hazardous waste in the hole. It's no wonder it's infested with those blighted... things, now." Chadvey Kerman was possessed of a deep, fearless voice that always spoke proudly and without hesitation. But now, as the shadows gathered close around him and the past whispered its neglected lament, even that began to whither. "After that, it didna take long. Our close-knit group tore its self apart, just like he wanted. 'Its your fault, no it's yours! You did this! No, you didn't do that! You helped him! You colluded! No, Ah--!" his voice cracked, he stumbled, but forced himself on, "Bob and Bill vowed never to speak to each other after that. Bob emigrated to Omork, eventually founded Rockomax. Bill went up north somewhere and became a banker. Werner went back to Krünia, tried to continue. And..." He trailed off, once more staring at nothing behind the shades of his bushy hair. Valentina watched him for a time, saw the subtle tremor in his shoulders, heard his quiet, ragged breath. She laid a hand gently on his arm, "and what about you?" "Ah did what Ah always do," Chadvey's voice rasped over his trembling lip, "Ah ran." "Went off and joined a militia in Cerima. Learnt Ah'm no bloody good at killin' people," he sniffed, drew an arm across his face, rambled on as if the words would hold the torrent back, "only Gene stayed. He refused to let Jeb's dream die. It took him years, he once..." a weak chuckle, "he once camped out on the steps of the Kleptogart capitol building for three weeks trying to get a meeting with a congresskerb. When he did, the old bodger finally agreed to fund him as long as he promised to go away and stopped stinking up the place. "It took Gene a long time, but he eventually convinced Werner to come back. He gathered the best minds east of the border, but they never got much farther than very expensive model rockets. Kleptogarti industry just couldn't manufacture to the size and tolerances they needed. It wasn't just amateurs in a junkyard anymore, everybody knew the price of failure, now. Over in Omork, they had the industry, but nobody seemed to know what to do with it, other than to give it to a young savant named Burdous and hope he was in a good mood that day. "It was Gene who finally made the connection. He spent months traveling back and forth between the Beige House and Baking-ham Palace, pestering interns, beseeching aides, bribing custodians, just trying to get someone to listen. Managed to convince the Queen of Omork that she wanted a space program, and what the Queen wants, the Queen bloody well gets, and parliamentary procedure be damned! It moved quickly after that. Omorkian industry producing Kleptogarti technology, turning a worthless spit of swampland not far from the original junkyard into the world's first spaceport. And to support it all, a brand new city dedicated to the whole world, though Ah think they could have found a more creative name than just 'Kerbin City.'" Chadvey was quiet for a while, then let out a long, labored breath, "and then mah damn fool brother got involved." "Far be it from him to miss an opportunity to stick his, er, face, into other's business. The new Kerbal Space Administration had to launch due east over Gednalna. Most efficient way, besides, if they launched far enough south to avoid it, they'd have rocket bits landing in Cerima, and sooner or later the Cerimans would start shooting back. So mah brother hashed out a deal to his own advantage, like he always does. But he needed a face to represent the Crown. One already known, but not for all the reasons mah other damn fool scheming brothers were. And of course, far away enough to be..." He leaned back again, "...expendable. Ah should have stayed in that damn jail cell in Dachland. At least the food was good. But he's always known how to manipulate me. All they had to do was mention going to space..." "It wasna s'posed to happen like it did," the shadows danced and swirled across his face, "that should have been Edmund's flight, it was his by rights... And there wasna s'posed to be an EVA, either. Ah knew it was a 50-50 chance Ah'd get that far, 50-50 again that Ah'd make it back at all. Ah had to see for m'self, with mah own two eyes. Not just that silly little periscope. Ah knew Ah'd never get another chance. So Ah popped the hatch and stuck mah head out. Almost couldn't get it closed again. They covered it up, o'course, made it look like it was planned all along. Afterwords..." The evening breeze rose toward a steady wind, and Chadvey seemed to draw in upon himself, diminish, as if shrouding himself against it. Or perhaps something else. "Long as Ah've known Gene... that's the only time Ah've ever seen him angry. Not because Ah broke procedure or embarrassed the Agency, but because Ah risked mah life. Needlessly. Ah don't think he's ever really trusted me, since." "So here's to mah damn fool brother, long-may-he-reign!" He suddenly blurted out, thrusting the bottle up into the air, "everybody raise a glass! Raise it up his royal...!" His intensity died away, and he paused there, before pouring out a libration on the roof, "and here's to the lost, may they rest in peace. And now poor Dean, too. He deserved better. Knew it was coming, didna think it'd happen like it did, but Ah knew something would. It'll all fall apart, now. Always does. They've cancelled the spaceplane program, announcement'll come in a day or two. The rest of it wont last. Layland always gets his way. Just a matter of time. "You can tell the others," barely a whisper, "Ah'll be gone by morning." "What?!" Valentina cried, "you're leaving? Why?!" The bottle turned over in Chadvey's hands, starlight glinting off the dozens of facets. His face was nearly hidden by the darkness. "It's what Ah do. There's nothing for me here, now, if ever there was. Ah can fly but Ah'm no pilot. Ah know mechanics but Ah'm no engineer. Ah've written books but Ah'm no scientist. Ah'm nothin'. Nothin' but a..." The darkness swirled, and he seemed to sink into it, disappear, as he closed his eyes. "...figurehead." Valentina sat there for a time, staring off into that darkness, the wind blowing her hair back from her face, before she finally spoke. "Is so. You are stupid, stuck up PЦTIЙSКI." "Ah--" Chadvey's head swung around so quickly his neck crackled, "WOT?!" "You are stupid, stuck-up PЦTIЙSКI," she nodded thoughtfully to herself, then reached out without looking and seized him by the collar, pulling his face to hers. "They will listen to you!" Valentina roared with every bit of volume in her small frame, "you! You, who is comrade to pilot, cohort to engineer, colleague to scientist! Apparatchik respect you; cadet, adore you! You, alone in this crazy, backwards place, they will listen to you!" She shoved him away, crossing her arms, "but no, you rather sit on rooftop feeling sorry for self, drinking bad liquor taste like rocket nozzle. You are stupid, stuck-up PЦTIЙSКI." Chadvey could only gape at her, his eyes wide and pleading in the gloom, "Ah... Ah dunna understand..." More softly, she turned to him, hugging her arms tighter against her chest, "perhaps... first you must believe... and let understanding... come later," then blinked in spite of herself. Where did that come from?! Shadows danced about his face more rapidly than ever, his huge eyes darting and searching. The wind rose to a howl as the darkness seemed to press in from all sides. Then, all at once, the shadows fled... an instant before the rooftop floodlights came on. "Bloody hells, yer right!" Chadvey looked to the ornate, gilded bottle in his hands, "this does taste like a rocket nozzle!" He slammed the cork back in, "Ah dunna need this!" With a grunt, he hurled it over the side of the building. <bonk> Ow! Hey, what's the big i-- THAAAANKS, MISTER! "Ah am a stupid, stuck up PЦTIЙSКI!" he jumped up from the metal cover, thrusting a leg up on the railing as the rushing wind blew his hair and pulled his clothes. "Well Ah'm through runnin'!" He bellowed to the night, "they want a figurehead, well Ah'll give 'em a figurehead! If that bum with the funny accent wants a team player, that's what he'll get, but maybe not for the team he thinks! Tomorrow, Ah'ma march right into Gene's office and--" He stopped as he noticed the horrified look frozen on Valentina's face, "what now?" She clapped one hand to her eyes and pointed with the other, "your kilt..." Chadvey looked down, "bloody hells!" and quickly dropped his leg, "and it's not a kilt." "Is.. is not kilt?" Valentina peeked from between her fingers. "Bah, any old fool can gird his loins with a bit o' cloth and call it a kilt, but it takes a real Kerb to wear a skirt!" She dropped her hands and gaped at him, then drew one slowly to her face, "you people are so strange..." Below the other, the Münstone continued to burn like fire against her skin.

If Jeb's around... it won't be for long.

They laughin... and rollin' they eyes because I'm... Green and nerdy!

Rumors of my demise are greatly exaggerated. Besides, if I ever did try to give up, Val would probably manifest out of thin air and beat the tar out of me. Things are moving along again, slowly. Hoping to have the next chapter up by the end of the week, it's looking quite long. Much info will be dumped. Tho I really don't get how those "real" artists do it. In my own experience, Pain and narcotics seem rather detrimental to the creative process.

Project Odysseus... hmm, a rather ominous name. He did eventually get home, but it took just a bit longer than planned...

Pity they didn't have the little drone filming the big drone like a few launches ago. That wide angle would be better.

By taking a bigger whip to the coders. Doesnt sound too difficult, I'm kinda surprised it wasn't in the software already. Throttle up the middle engine if one of the sides are bad & vice versa.