CatastrophicFailure

No, this happens right away. Launch a new rocket, land, go to tracking station, lander gets deleted.

Well this is annoying. I'm using the configs a fellow on this thread made up (user name escapes me) to restore some bumpiness to Minmus and the Mün, but it seems I cannot switch away from most landed vessels. If I do (like return to the tracking station), it's immediately deleted and I get the "crashed through terrain" entry in the log. But some vessels seem to be fine (the non-important ones, of course). Anyone else having an issue with this? Only tested on the M&Ms so far.

A piston engine on a rocket. That just weirds me out. It sounds like it should be so heavy.

Wait, wasn't the Raptor supposed to power the BFR/MCT?

With all this discussion on the second stage for the moment, does anyone know if SpaceX still has plans to recover and reuse them eventually?

Fraid not. You have the pic on another image hosting site, right? You should be able to just paste the image url into your post then hit enter. No tags needed.

Chapter 38: By Dawn's Early Light Dawn broke, casting a deep ruddy glow across the few clouds still lingering about the horizon, and staining the snow-covered landscape the color of blood. Slowly, the sun clawed its way into the morning sky, shifting the colors from crimson, to red, to brilliant scarlet, before fading away to unblemished, sparkling white. Snow. Perhaps a shy meter of it had fallen in the night. Little more than a dusting, really, and not a flake of it had been plowed yet. Valentina sat watching, perched high on the roof of the VAB. The light morning breeze pulled long clouds of breath from her lips and numbed her face against the loose lock of hair blowing across it, but she didn't mind, the cold never bothered her anyway. This... this was her favorite time of all, the morning after the first snowfall. It always seemed like the world had been soothed and refreshed: stains covered over, harsh edges softened, all bathed in muted silence. Before her, all was pure, flowing white as far as she could see, like creation born anew. She knew it wouldn't last, it never did, but it was here, now. And it was beautiful. Not even footprints broke smooth white sheet below. She thought everyone on the facility must still be sleeping off the consequences of last night's festivities. Or were simply buried under the snow. Either way, it gave her a welcome moment of peace on this perfect morning to think. Last night's events had yet to fully sink in. It still didn't seem real. After the ceremony, there was, of course, the bureaucracy. Forms had to be signed, documents initialed, photographs taken, and new docket of paper to be checked, please. Then the interviews, the photographs, the hand-shaking. It had all seemed distant and dream-like. Her parents had been pardoned of all wrongdoing, but she still hadn't the slightest idea what they'd actually done, and no one could... or would, tell her. There had been a thinly veiled tension in the air. The Empress's decree seemed to have surprised everyone. More politics. Bah, she hated politics! And, Valentina suspected, the politics of the Ussari Union were the least of her worries. The voice had continued to twitter and hiss in her mind all night long, but distantly, as if afraid to come near. It had quieted down to nothing in the last few minutes, too. She let out a long breath of cloud, and leaned back against... well, whatever it was she was sitting on up here. Thoughts came random and disjointed, and Valentina let her mind meander through them. She'd been to space for the last time again, she realized that. She was lucky to have the gained the short time she did. She also realized with a wince, that was a horrid way to think about it, yet there it was. Up there, despite the gravity of the situation, everything seemed to make sense. Of course, it was easy to look back on it now and think that. They would never let her go near a rocket again, she suspected. But some part of her wanted to stay up there forever. Valentina gazed out over the perfect, white, unbroken snow. Somewhere under all that, was a shadow. It moved, unseen and unnoticed, like subterranean beetles that gnawed on tree roots, and in doing so toppled even the mightiest of them. It was scheming, stalking, corrupting to its own pattern, but... Staring at nothing, her eyes widened just slightly, then narrowed. If it has to work by schemes and shadows, if it cannot simply take what it wants, then somehow, it is still weak. It can be fought. But how? Blood oaths by Münlight were all well and good, but she needed answers, some place to begin. It wouldn't simply fall into her lap-- Something fell into her lap. "I thought I might find you up here," Dibella said, pulling herself up onto the equipment box and plopping down next to Valentina in a flurry of snowflakes. Valentina lifted the small, white box, "what is this?" Dibella looked at her, a touch of color rising in her cheeks, "with all that happened, I never got a chance to thank you properly... for saving my life..." "Oh no," Valentina tried to hand the box back, "you do not have to do that." Dibella didn't take it, "yes. Yes, I do. Go on, open it." Valentina did so reluctantly, then gasped. She lifted the object reverently from the box and turned it over in her bare hands. It a brilliant red disc-like jewel, with a clasp and chain of thick, iridescent metal. "It is beautiful..." "The setting is new, I had it made. It's pure titanium, even you can't break it," Dibella said with a wry grin. Valentina shot her a look. "...but the stone has been in my family for generations. The original setting is lost to time, but according to family legend, there used to be an inscription, too. It always changed depending on which uncle I asked and how pickled he was that evening, but usually something about 'courage' and 'heart' and 'rare.' I thought it fit you." Valentina stared into the deep crimson disc, mesmerized. In the low morning sunlight, it seemed to be glowing from within. "What on Kerbin is it?" "It's a Münstone. No, not from the actual Mün, of course, but they are quite rare. They often pop up in old fairy tales and mythology as sources of great mystical power. Quite understandable, given how they sparkle in the light like that." "Thank you," Valentina said, slipping the chain over neck and feeling just a bit awkward, "I will treasure it always." Dibella smiled at her, "you left the party early last night. That's not easy to do in Ussari, it often comes looking for you." Valentina smirked and rolled her bulging eyes, "I needed some time to think." "Indeed," Dibella nodded, "not much thinking going on by that point. But you missed all the announcements." Valentina raised an eye... bulge. "Everything is changing again. The entire space program is being restructured after all the... anomalies. Restructured, and expanded." With the question plain on Valentina's face, Dibella continued, "everything is being centralized under a single national space agency. Flight planning, production, mission direction, more like the Foreigners. They're calling it USKOSMOS. And Sergei Kermanev is to be the new director." "Sergei?!" Valentina shook her head in confusion, "but what about the Academy? The Kommissar?" "The everyone will report to the Kommissar, even the Academy. They're going to build two new launchpads and train nine new Kerbonauts. There was talk of long-term space flights, and probes to Eve and Jool. Launches every couple of weeks even." Valentina put her head back. A new nine. So that was it, then. But wait, how... "How are they going to maintain such a high launch rate? The factory in Kernobyl is already straining to keep up." "That's where it gets interesting. There was a representative from this 'Layland Heavy Industries' there. Some Gytepi technology firm as well. They gave a rather thrilling speech," Dibella rolled her eyes, "lots of nonsense words like 'synergy' and 'actualize' and 'authoritatively reintermediate premier initiatives.' They're going to build a new factory near the Cosmodrome." Valentina opened her mouth, then closed it again, and clicked her tongue, "I suppose I should not be surprised. Foreigners running a factory in the Union. They have their hand in everything these days." "Indeed. Some sort of partnership with this 'USKOSMOS.' She sighed, shaking her head, "I do not understand politics." "They seemed to have worked in your favor this time, Comrade Kermanova," said Dibella with a wink. "I do not really understand that either. It seemed quite... " she shrugged, "sudden." "Sudden, yes. I cannot see the motive beyond the obvious, but it was a very shrewd maneuver on her part." Valentina looked over at the other Kerbal, "how do you mean?" "Well, obviously, you are a hero deserving of honors for your great service to the State, but..." Dibella stared thoughtfully out over the world clad in white, "she is very cunning. She has so little power beyond mere ceremony. Only the Imperium can bestow the Medal, but it is a loose tradition for the Throne to grant an honorific at the same time, in remarkable cases." Valentina nodded her on. "Now, when an honorific is granted for a great act of service, it's also traditional for the Throne to grant indulgences, only usually they're not binding since it's not by Imperious decree, but with your sudden celebrity," she raised an eye... bulge at Valentina, "everyone was there. The Imperium, the Kommissariat heads, regional governors, council leads. Anyone who has any sort of influence used it to get a seat in the Winter Palace." "I still do not follow you." A wry grin crossed Dibella's face, "it may not have been official, but it still qualifies as 'in Union assembled' under the Fifth Revision of the Agreement. And under Article 19, a proclamation from the Throne delivered in Union assembled is legally binding." Valentina crinkled her brow more, her eyes darting back and forth in thought, "but... it is the Imperium. Can they not simply undo it if they choose?" "They're the Imperium, they can do whatever they want. Revoking honors granted so publicly to a national hero, by such a well-liked Empress, though... they would lose face. And that might be worse for them. The significance of the Empress's ploy may have been symbolic, but nevertheless, as the Foreigners say, she put one over on them," she gave a little wink, "their grip on power is perhaps not quite so strong as they would like us to think, yes?" Valentina's eyes darted about, lingering on the squat grey rectangle across the roof that marked the Kommissar's office, "you should not say such things." "What are they going to do, arrest me? Days after giving me the Order of Kermin? They are not such fools. Loosing face, remember?" Dibella did, however, rub her heavily-mittened hands together nervously. "Bah, I will never understand politics," said Valentina, trying futility to blow the errant lock of hair out of her face. "I pray you never do," Dibella said, not unkindly. The two friends sat in silence for a few moments, gazing out by dawn's early light at the brilliant, frosted landscape. They both went to speak at once, then shared an awkward giggle. "Valentina," Dibella avoided the other's eyes, "do you ever feel like something is... wrong?" "How... do you mean?" The response was cautious, Valentina's ears piqued by the use of her full name. "With everything. Something is... not right." Valentina kept her face blank. Could Dibella know about... well, it? She continued, finding a particularly interesting spot on her mitten to examine as she spoke, "when I was at university, political doctrine was a required path, of course. I read everything Vladimir Kermin ever wrote, even beyond the requirements. I always considered myself a good and loyal Comrade of the Imperium. But, in the old histories, I found things that were... troubling. The professors always had a rationale, of course, made it sound quite reasonable. Yet..." Dibella slowly shook her head, "everything is changing so quickly now. I sometimes wonder if the Imperium really is controlling it all, or if they're just being dragged along like the rest of us. I wonder if, perhaps, there's a better way." Valentina stared at her, aghast, "you really should not say such things. Those are dangerous thoughts!" "Indeed," Dibella agreed, rubbing her hands again, "perhaps, that is the problem." Confused, and scrambling for a response, Valentina's mind groped at distraction, "your hands... do they still hurt?" "What? Oh, no. Not anymore, really," she held her mittens up before her, "the doctors all say my fingertips will grow back eventually. We're a resilient kind, like that." Then she turned, with a fragile smile, "besides, I'm Ussari. It takes more than a little frostbite to cow me!" For a moment, Valentina returned the smile, then Dibella's eyes slowly dropped. "There's another reason I came up here..." "What?" "I wanted you to be the first to know. I'm leaving the Kerbonaut Corps." "What?! No, no you cannot! You said yourself, your hands will heal--" "It's not because of that, in spite of it, really," Dibella gave a reassuring smile, "I'm not leaving the Program, just the Corps.I was never really cut out for spaceflight. With all the changes, they wanted a permanent flight director. I guess they figured actual experience might be beneficial to that." Valentina had come up here to clear her thoughts, but now her head was practically swimming, "but... I do not... are you sure?" "My education is more appropriate to administration anyway. This way, I can help make sure we have the best space program we can. And maybe, keep anyone else from having to go through, well, what we went through." Valentina put a hand to her temples. She could feel a nasty empty-belly headache lurking in there too. At least the PЦTIЙSКI voice had finally shut up for a while. Dibella put a comforting hand on her shoulder, gingerly, "it will all work out for the best. It will be all right, you'll see." Further discussion was interrupted by a cracking, discordant voice that drifted up from far away. What it lacked in any sort of talent, it more than made up for in sheer volume. And a chilling resemblance to a dentist's drill. "...shakeable faith in our heroic cause! OOOOOOOOh, SIIIIIIING to our glo-ri-ous YOUUUU-NION! MaAAAaaay she ever proOOOOOOOsper!" Clapping their hands to their heads, the two moved the edge of the roof and looked down. Far below, a small figure stumbled through the snow, spinning around occasionally and waving a tiny red flag in an upraised hand. And of course, making that hideous noise. "Built on the shoulders of our workers stronK!" Part of Valentina was genuinely impressed with the figure's ability to project its voice with such power at a distance. The other part was urgently looking around for something sharp to stick in her ears. "Ooooohhhhh, HAaaaAAAaaaaaaAAAaaAAaaaaaAaAIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiL---!" The figure flopped forward in a snowbank, its tiny red flag still sticking up defiantly. Valentina slapped the side of her head, trying to equalize the pressure, "wow. They must have been running high test last night." "Indeed," agreed Dibella, moving her jaw around, "ethanol-75. Quite the surplus now that all the Stolitsa rockets have all been retired." Far below, the figure gave the flag a little wave. "Is... is that poor Vladimir?" Valentina mused as she looked closer. Dibella squinted, then sighed, "yes, I believe it is. I suppose we'd best go dig him out. I think a nice, hot breakfast will be in order, after that." "Indeed," said Valentina, still rubbing at the sides of her head and extremely glad she had no external ears. *** Some time later, with Comrade Vladimir safely tucked away in a warm and easily hosed down corner of the VAB, Valentina and Dibella made their way back through the empty, snow-covered paths of the Cosmodrome to the Kerbonaut dormitory. They passed through rows of empty tables and stacks of empty chairs in the darkened, unused cafeteria toward their little kitchen. Valentina mused, as she opened the door and reached for the light switches, it would no longer hold all of them. Nine new Kerbonauts. Likely more to follow. They will have to-- "PЦTIИS ЬЗДЯD turn the GФЯЬДCHЗVIИG light off!" Dibella screamed at the pungent, misshapen form occupying one of the chairs at the humble table. Valentina quickly flicked one of the switches off, "Tercella? What happened to you?" Tercella could only groan in response, her narrow, bloodshot eyes straining to focus, a dried rivulet of drool caking one cheek, then finally managed, "and stop yelling. My head..." She was wearing a set of dirty coveralls. Valentina noted that the name tag said 'Dmitri.' Wherever poor Dmitri was, he must be waking up with a splitting headache himself, for an entirely different reason. Any hopes for a nice hot breakfast had quickly evaporated, too. Valentina wrinkled her... face. Having an open flame around Tercella might not be wise right now. "Oh, dear. Dear, dear, dear," Dibella said, wiping the drool from Tercella's face with a rag, "let's get you some coffee." Tercella moaned assent, then moved to drop her face in her hands, but missed and hit the table instead, with a solid thud, "ow." The other two concerned Kerbals stepped to the... thing on the wall where the imported coffee pot had once been. A gleaming maze of pipes, tubes, precisely soldered fittings and assorted greebles stood before them. "Hmm," Dibella put a hand to her chin, "she's changed it again." Valentina could make no sense of the mass of plumbing. There was something vaguely familiar about it... "Push the button," Tercella croaked without looking up, "push the red button." Valentina scanned over the chaos until she found it. She looked at Dibella, who shrugged. Valentina shrugged herself, then pressed the button. And immediately wished she hadn't. The entire room began to rumble with the thunder of a rocket engine. The machine rattled and shook, ominous jets of vapor spewing out of unseen places. Great rushing sounds filled the air, something deep inside the nest of lines glowed red, metal creaked and groaned, something fell of a shelf and shattered on the floor, and then, just as Valentina was certain the monstrosity really would lift off and punch right through the ceiling, it stopped. With a loud fwooooosh, a cloud of steam rose above the machine and three streams of inky black liquid flowed into three waiting cups near the base. A moment later, with a softer whooosh, three streams of steaming white liquid followed. Finally, with a simple pfft, three dollops of fluffy white foam followed that. Dibella and Valentina each hesitantly took a cup, looked at each other, shrugged again, and raised them to their lips. "Hey... this is... good," Valentina exclaimed. "It is," agreed Dibella, "no more burnt smell or industrial aftertaste, or crunchy bits. I do believe she's done it!" "Yes, but..." Valentina trailed off. The perfectly warm beverage was quite good, but there was something subtle... "...how?" "Steam," Tercella still didn't look up, "force the water through the grounds under high pressure with steam. That is the secret." "Interesting," Dibella opined, "how did you manage that?" The two took long sips... "Steam generator from an old HTP engine I found." ...And promptly spayed them all over each other. Choking and gagging, Valentina coughed, "peroxide?!" Tercella finally looked up, with a wounded expression, "I cleaned it first!" Valentina put a hand to her face, then took a cold pastry from the plate on the counter and sat down with her cup of steaming peroxide. Dibella set the other cup before Tercella. "Here, drink. It would not do to have the Kommissar see you like this." Tercella took a bite of Valentina's pastry, "the KommisSAR, the KommisSAR..." she rolled her head this way and that. "The same Kommissar who is always conveniently absent, even during important launches and moments of crisis? That Kommissar?" She said around a mouthful of pastry. "Hush, you should not say such things," Dibella snapped. "Bah," a dismissive wave of the pastry, "I am beginning to wonder if he even exists." Right on cue, the opposite door swung open, and Igor entered, eyes wide, skin ashen. "Valentina," he boomed, raising a finger, "you..." Tercella nearly choked on her mouthful, "he looks like he has seen a ghost." Valentina stopped glaring at her and looked at Igor. He paused to run a tongue like sandpaper over his dry lips. "You... must see Kommissar." PЦTIЙ.

According to AmericaSpace, next several launches are going to aim for barge: http://www.americaspace.com/?p=90612#more-90612

Pazhalooysta.

@Shania_L I finally got around to orbiting Minmus myself, and IIRC you mention 1200m/s capture burns in a couple places. I think mine was about a quarter of that, were you on really aggressive intercepts? Also, MOAR plz?

Funny you should mention that. I drive for a living, he narrates practically my whole day:

Re: video footage. It occurs to me they have another launch coming up in a week, and will try landing on the barge again. Their record for that is less than stellar. Perhaps they're holding on to that footage in case this next landing attempt goes bad? "well we had a minor anomaly landing on the barge but look at these kewl movies from our other landing!"

All Things Serve the Beam.

Hey, any landing you can walk limp crawl be dragged away from...

Weird, feels like I was just here. Deja vu, man. um, how bout @NecroBones?

Seriously thats barking beautiful.

Did someone say my name? Oh, no. OK. Well, this is awkward. I'll show myself out. @billbobjebkirk!

And extra kudos for that word count of famous books link. Very interesting...

Finished ch 31 last nite, and of course, wow. Can't say much that hasn't already been said, but I am curious, do I detect shades of Robert Jordan in the Age of Madness?

@Proteus those ships are truly incredible! Stayed up literally all night last night playing KSP so I'd be awake to go see the conjunction of Venus & Saturn just before dawn... shlep out there and my friggin telescope mount craps out. AFTER giving me a maddening tease of what could have been an epic pic of both Venus & Saturn in the same frame.

The M104 bus will get you there quicker. Not sure if it goes to the Mün tho.

I do sometimes wonder just how well that actually comes off, glad to know it continues to work. It appears I have been upstaged on my own thread, well done. I will have to usurp annex liberate this at some point. Keep at it, that's how you learn. Maybe consider a creative writing course. And, of course, read copiously.

This is typically done by the payload, even to GEO. The F9 just gives the initial (and much larger) burn to TLI/GTO.