CatastrophicFailure

See, now that right there is some quality modelling work!

Tonight I goofed around for a bit and made a model of the Oskar EW-5894 Fleischgewehr! (Absolutely not a ripoff of the Oscar 5894 Phallus from Hot Shots!, it's self absolutely not a rip off of the Folland Gnat. Terrifying name for an airplane, that.) The resemblance is clear, right? Huh? Huh? No...? (Yeah, I suck at making models) It actually flies pretty nice. Re-engined, and I could almost get it up to Mach 3. Shooting the K2 gap at just below Mach 1, not a scratch! Er, wait I think something's missing.... Pulling to the right, hmm... Honestly, I expected better from Katnis Kerman... ... and a perfect landing! Now, to find a certain disagreeable spaceplane pilot...

What an auspicious start to a space program, launching a ballistic missile at yourself. Love me some RSS reports, subbed.

That low Jool pass is also speeding you up quite a bit, too. It's difficult to play around with nodes until you actually get into Jool's SOI, and the errors that creep in during time accel will likely throw off any made before then. I think if you adjust your peri-Jool a bit higher once inside (or just outside) of Jool's SOI, you can arrange an encounter with Tylo. That can give you some mad gravity braking if the timing is right with very little dv expended to get there. Also, don't be afraid of a retrograde initial pass at Jool either. Once you're in a wide, stable orbit within the system, you can usually get encounters with all the moons for peanuts.

Hmm. A wider initial pass at Jool might nab an advantageous encounter with Tylo there and save some dv.

Ivylog would absolutely totally not be Hollywood. As for Tin Turkey, see below. I was beginning to wonder if I was the only one who remembered that so-cheesy-it's-awesome flick. Had to go watch it again tonight, it's the movie that made me want to be a fighter pilot when I was a kid (unfortunately I'm blind as a bat, so...) They really knew how to compile soundtracks back then, but of course it's much better with visuals. Or, if you really want to scar yourself....

Chapter 57: Wanderings Valentina wandered aimlessly across the space center grounds, no real destination in mind. Here and there, workers busied themselves with their tasks. A large, cylindrical object was being inched into the VAB on its special low-boy trailer, still veiled in white shrink wrap. The upper stage for Jerdous's rocket, due to launch a few weeks from now, she surmised. And then what? She'd seen copies of launch manifests, filled with both the mundane and the ambitious. Nearly every flight followed by the letters 'TBA.' Even Gene seemed to be nearing his limit. Something here was wrong, she knew it, but-- Movement drew her eye, and Valentina looked up to see Burdous walking her way, followed at an odd distance by his brother. She mentally braced herself for another of his profanity-laced tirades, but much to her surprise he simply walked right by, glassy eyes fixed the concrete. He smelled like he hadn't bathed in... well, longer than usual. She watched Burdous go, then turned to his brother as he approached, "what is, how you say? Chewing upon him?" Jerdous raised an eye... bulge, then shrugged, "you remember that concert he was going to a couple days ago?" "Indeed, Solpugids, yes?" He nodded, "he was on top of the world, playing the heroic spacekerb. Had a date with that pretty weather gal from Channel 3, rented a limo, even combed his hair. Arrived at the VIP entrance to the stadium, with her on his arm, to a gauntlet of cameras." A sigh, and a defeated, one-sided smile, "the tickets were fake. Someone swindled him. Got turned away at the door." "That is horrible!" She blurted, "do you know who has done it?" "He won't say," Jerdous looked off towards the drooping figure, his own arms folded, "hasn't said a single word since. I think he even walked home." "He... no, he does not deserve such." "I warned him about shady resellers. He's real smart when it comes to engineering, but people? ЙФT SФ MЦCH.*" Valentina raised an eye... bulge at the Ussari interjection. "I'd better go keep an eye on him. Takes him a while to bounce back from these things," Jerdous nodded, then trotted off. Valentina frowned after them. No, not even that one deserves such, rude as he is. A smack on the head, perhaps, but he already seemed to be well supplied with those. She continued on her way across the grounds. Jerdous, at least, looked more himself today. Something... something was not right there either. Nightmares. She could understand that. But something else about him just felt... wrong. Wrong... yet, familiar. Like in the spring, when the days became sunny and beautiful but all that which had died during the long winter began to fester, and the sticky sweet smell of decay mingled with the subtle perfume of flowers. It felt like... when the voice had called out to her. ...do not think too hard on such things... Could it be? Could the voice have other... charges? ...or did you just imagine it all? A side effect of stress, a mind's way of coping... She should do something. She should do something. If it is true. She couldn't just leave him like that. She had to help. There must be a reason, a reason she was here at all. ...never ever make noise... ...you have such power... ...you may not like what you find... Valentina shook her head against the competing thoughts, and a wave of emotion sloshed about her mind. What... could she do? It all seemed so ridiculous. A rational mind didn't didn't think like this. Didn't hear voices and feel emotions that were not its own. Either she really was going mad... or the reality was far, far worse than she imagined. ...you took an oath... But what could she do? This was beyond her understanding. It was all subtlety and scheming and... politics. She did not know these things. Somewhere, not that far, someone was having a great laugh about something. It echoed back and forth inside her brain. ...I don't understand... ...believe... ...do not think too hard on such things... ...you have such power... ...I found things that were... troubling... ...this, we do not speak of... ...progeny of traitors... Valentina clapped her hands to her head, "shut up shut up shut up, all of you!" Someone who had been coming the other way looked up at her, then suddenly remembered urgent business in the opposite direction, and set off for it at a brisk trot. She ground her teeth and rubbed her own temples. She most certainly needed a cheeseburger. Or three. Or eight. Off to the west, the sun was sinking down towards the horizon, silhouetting several enormous propellium tankers sitting at anchor. Odd, that was an awful lot of fuel for one small rocket, with a launch still weeks away. She recalled that PropelOx stored well, but-- The thought blew away like breath in the breeze. Coming down the path were several pipeline workers, roughnecks, they called them. Their faces were streaked with sweat and grease, but their enormous hats were utterly spotless. They tipped them, and offered big friendly, Exast smiles as they passed. "Ma'am." "Ma'am." "Ma'am." "Ma'am." Valentina smiled back weakly. After all day lifting very heavy things in the hot sun, the four had perhaps two a half shirts left between them, and, well, they were built like fellows who spent all day lifting very heavy things in the hot sun. Valentina swallowed hard, raising a hesitant hand as she watched them depart. Presently, a shadow loomed over her. "Good, strong boys, all of 'em. Work like dogs and twice as loyal." She jumped, and spun around. How does he do that?! "Evenin', ma'am," J.R. said, tipping his own huge black hat, "fixin' to be a real looker of a sunset, Ah reckon." "Good evening, mister J.R.," she said carefully, hoping her cheeks didn't look as colored as they felt. "Well, Ah'll not keep yah. Three more tankers comin' in the night and Ah'm busier than a one-eyed cat watchin' nine rat holes. Besides," he winked, "you look like a lady with a lot on her mind." Valentina opened her mouth, and closed it just as quickly. "Y'all have yerself a fine evenin', now," he tipped his hat once more, with a rather unsavory smile, "and remember, bein' a team player does have its advantages." As he walked away, Valentina could just see his shoulders shake as he chuckled. She bared her teeth as his back. Why of all the...! That... slimy... GAH! She spun around, stalking off beyond the concrete of the Space Center proper. The sun was nearly touching the ocean, now. She always expected it to make a comedic shhhhhhhh sound and sink into a cloud of steam. Yes, she'd been watching far too many of these absurd Foreign cartoons. Nevertheless, it did amaze her how fast the sun set here on the equator. Back home, the sunset seemed to last for hours, the fading light filtered by towering trees. Not far from where she grew up, the sun never really set, in a land of eternal twilight. It was always cold there, too. She wouldn't mind that, it would be a welcome change, the cold never-- A slight tickle on her arm drew Valentina's attention. She looked down in horror to find a tiny mosquito helping its self to dinner at her expense. For a moment, she could only gape in disgust. How did these people live like this?! One of these... these... these... vermin could just make a meal of you and you might not even know! At least the mosquitos back home had to put up a proper fight, first! Snarling, she balled her hand into a fist and squeezed until the mosquito burst like macabre balloon. She picked the head off and wiped her arm on a convenient plant. Plant? Valentina looked around, and found herself surrounded by lush green vegetation and stunted trees. Ah, this must be the lake everyone talked about. She walked toward the shore, until her shoes squelched in the soggy ground. It certainly was a very pretty lake. She knew a lake that looked like this back home, for the few weeks it wasn't covered in thick white ice. To the west, the sun had fully disappeared, the splash of orange in the sky fading to red and deep crimson. The dwindling light was maintained by a brilliant, pallid Mün just peeking over the mountains far to the east. She sat on a convenient log, and watched it rise, occasionally batting at the mosquitoes. Somehow, this, too reminded her of home. Home. She finally realized how homesick she was. The brighter stars began to pop into the sky, one by one, bringing with them an odd contradiction of emotions that were, thankfully, entirely her own. Her time in this bizarre place was beginning to sink towards its own end, and oddly, she felt wistful about that too. She wondered absently if she would still feel the same tomorrow night. Pivoting on that thought, she was thankful this day was over, and couldn't possibly get any worse. And instantly regretted it. Of course it could. With a splash and a plop, something emerged from the water. Valentina tilted her head. It was... no, it was more... well, it looked sort of like a fish. And also like a squirrel. But also like a rat. The fact that these descriptions referred to the same creature surely violated some cosmic law of decency. Just looking at it made her eyes water. As it hopped and squished forward, its big fishy lips curled into a hopeful grin, its long whiskers... whisked, and its bushy, sodden tail flicked with anticipation. Valentina held its beady-eyed gaze and scowled, "don't even think about it." The critter's countenance fell, and it turned, crestfallen and sniffling, and sulked off back into the lake. Standing, Valentina sighed. Two hours in a confined space with D.N. She would rather go running through the forest rapping on Sticks with sticks. Or maybe kiss that... thing. Somehow, she doubted tomorrow would end so peacefully.

Wow, yeah that does look pretty well done. Maybe even some heat discoloration on the landing legs.

What images? Linky plz??

Chapter 56: Summoned, Sentenced "Major Kermanova reporting as ordered, sir!" Valentina snapped a crisp salute. "Put your hand down, relax, this isn't the military," Gene sighed, "have a seat, please." She did as he said, taking a seat before his desk in a way that felt oddly reminiscent of her encounter with the Kommissar, and yet, completely different. Gene seemed to take a moment to gather his thoughts, one hand rubbing his temples and shading his bloodshot eyes from the harsh fluorescent light above. Valentina used to opportunity to quickly run her own eyes around his office. On the wall behind him, between two large windows looking out on the launchpad, was a massive group photo of the current Kerbonaut Corps, all smiles posed before a mockup of their Orbiter and upper stage in their shiny metallic pressure suits. Nearby was a much smaller picture featuring a dozen or so rather overwhelmed looking faces clad in blue. Valentina guessed this must be the first fledgling class of new cadets. Below it was room for many more frames. The utilitarian, white-painted cinderblock walls were festooned with all manner of stylized space art. Sleek painted rockets roared past enormous ringed space stations, or towards more exotic destinations like Duna or the moons of Jool. Mixed in were more realistic renderings of space capsules and satellites. She even noted several Ussari works, including the all too familiar portrait of... Sergei. One wall was mostly empty, just a few old-looking photos of Gene with some Kerbals she didn't recognize, all looking very happy, but oddly cropped. In the center of them all was a single framed picture, a different image of the same young, smiling Kerbal from the case in the bar, the one no one would speak of. Engraved on a small brass plaque beneath it, she could just make out the words AD ASTRA PER ASPERA. Gene's desk was covered in neat, ordered stacks of papers and thick binders. Just in front of Valentina was a gold-colored model of a conical craft she hadn't seen before, but for the moment, she returned her attention to Gene, who seemed to be recovering. "So," he said, suspiciously neutral, "how's the hand?" "Is sore." "I see. It says here," he pressed a finger to a paper on the desk, "you had another altercation with Dean." "DД." "And punched a wall." "DД." "And cracked it." "D--what?" "There's a crack. In the wall. Just a small one." She gaped at him for a moment, then snapped to attention in her seat, "I humbly accept whatever discipline you deem fit, sir!" "Stop doing," he waved his hands at her, "that." Gene leaned back and sighed, putting his hand to his temples again, "this 'Dean' thing has got the be remedied," he said to no one in particular. "He is d-... d-..." she fumbled, "what is word? Difficult." "Yes, he is," Gene breathed, leaning forward again, "but he's really not a bad guy, once you get past his ego. Which, unfortunately, is huge..." Valentina opened her mouth to say something, but didn't get far. "...so I've scheduled you two some flight time together." Her mouth now fell open, before she snapped to attention again, "sir, yes, sir!" "Stop that," Gene said emphatically, then more softly, "look, I'm just trying to help everyone get along here. No one here can challenge Dean in the air, but from what I've heard, maybe you can. Show him a thing or two. Find a chink in that armor." "...armor?" Valentina said, confused. "Figure of speech. Anyway, I have the two of you down for a block of time tomorrow afternoon. If you can earn his respect, I think you might just see a different side of him," Gene gave her a hopeful, not-quite-believing-it smile. Valentina returned one equally as awkward. "Um..." she foundered, seeking a distraction, "is new spacecraft?" She pointed to the golden model on the desk. "Yep, that's DUOS," Gene looked relieved himself, and handed her the fragile-feeling bit of plastic, "the latest in cutting-edge KSA technology. It will be our own foray into performing rendezvous and docking in space." Valentina kept a polite smile as she turned the model over in her hands. It bore a very passing resemblance to Zarya, but could certainly not be called a copy. It looked like little more than an upscaled version of their conical orbiter capsule mated to an overly large fuel tank and engine, which she suspected was actually the last stage of the lifter. She also noted, it did not appear to actually have any sort of docking port. Or even any place to put one. "Just a prototype, of course," Gene said, as if reading her mind, "once these early bugs are sorted out there's plenty of room for improvement." "Er... bugs?" "Figure of speech," he said, rubbing at the wide, flat spot between his eyes, "I'm sure you've heard about Rockomax's um, difficulties. Just normal development snags, that's all. They have another test flight scheduled from their west coast facility tomorrow, actually. I'm sure everything will..." Gene stared at her, as if not sure where his own thought had been going. He returned to rubbing his temples, "wow, I'm talking a lot..." Valentina looked at him, concerned, "are you all right?" "Oh, I'm fine," he said with a half-hearted, dismissive chuckle, "just the challenges of being the Flight Director. We're in a good place. Burdous's flight was a great success, just have to get over this one little hump, now." Every recent Rockomax launch had failed, every one that wasn't crewed, that's what someone had said. Could he not see the obvious? Or was she just being paranoid? Rockets were tricky things, after all, prone to failure from the tiniest flaw, and the entire program here seemed far behind the Union's. Ironic, since so much of the Union's hardware came from... The thought evaporated, as another flash of distant emotion wandered through Valentina's mind. She pushed it away, and wrenched her attention back to Gene, "still, uh, you should get rest. You do not look well." "I'll be all right," he grinned weakly, his eyes seemed to have grown redder in just these few minutes, "no rest for the weary, after all." "But," she blinked, "it is weary who need rest, no?" "Figure of speech," he groaned. "Your speech has many figures," frowned Valentina, "like matryoshka doll." "Like m-what?" "Matryoshka doll," she gestured vaguely. "I have no idea what that is," Gene blinked, as if he should have, then shook his head, "maybe I could use some coffee..." He sighed, and looked back to Valentina, "you'll do fine tomorrow, and don't go easy on Dean either. Really show him what you've got. It'll be fine." They stared awkwardly at one another for a few moments. "Er, yes, you can go," Gene rolled his eyes, then clapped a hand to them, "and on your way out, do me a favor and kill the lights, please." She stood, saluted again, felt a bit silly, then went to the door. At the light switch, she paused a moment, wondering if perhaps she should punch it, but Gene probably just meant 'turn them off.' So many incomprehensible figures of speech here, like turning your hat in winter. Shrugging, Valentina flicked the light switch. The room didn't change much, with the late afternoon sun streaming in the windows as it was. Gene didn't seem to register it either way, he now sat with his face in hands, fingers rubbing his forehead. Valentina gave him another concerned frown, and quietly closed the door behind her. She made her way down the hall, out past the ever-smiling secretary, and through the legions of apparatchiks clacking away at their typewriters, to the elevator. Some things, she supposed once more, truly were universal. Only they didn't call them apparatchiks here, right? What was the word? Pencil-pusher, yes? That made no sense either, none of them had pencils as far as she could tell. The doors binged open, and she walked through the lobby and out into the stifling tropical sun with a headfull of thoughts.

Ah, back to normal. Two-fer weekend!

Put that in your vape-pen & puff it, Jeff Bezos. (Doesn't seem like the smoking type...)

Plane changes down low are terribly expensive. They do it near GEO altitude where it takes much less delta v.

It's like Woodstock for nerds

I'm thinking its maybe that fabric-ish flexible protective thingamabob that surrounds each engine. It's looked burned in other landings.

Um... Stuff's still on fire, yo...

Something.... Happened...? THEY DID IT AGAIN!

Nothing beats the F9 for pretty nighttime exhaust plumes.

My time zone math was not strong tonight, I nearly missed it! Might not have to stay up past my bedtime if all goes well (never get old).

328 tonnes, few hundred parts, 6 frames per second... and going nowhere except all around the space center still

Same setup I have, but mine doesn't look anything like that. My clouds look better but Kerbin... not so much. By chance, are you using the tweak many pages back to restore the "bumpiness" to the Kerbin system?

That Kerbin is flarping beautiful! How'd you set it up?

Unfortunate. It would appear that... the fourth wath not with them. I know, I know, I'll show myself out... Actually I'm hoping it gets bumped just one more day so I can watch...

Now, how does the recent adoption of supercooled propellants figure into all that? Wait, there's a white dragon now?

Fair enough, but now it's back to the previous discussion arc... can a Falcon upper stage maintain it's LOX supply all the way to Lunar space?