KSK

Awesome 'that's no Mun' shot of Intrepid and Pol. Really nails down quite how durned big that bad girl is. Yeah, yeah, I know. Pol aint much of a mun. Shush - you're spoiling it.

Yup - there's one at my local air museum. The airframe is a marvel - it still looks futuristic, forty years (and more) after it was designed and built. The interior - not so much. The one I saw would have been the height of fashion - in the 80s! I understand that everything else would have been as luxurious as they could make it but they couldn't do much about legroom I don't think. In fairness though, it was a case of form over function and the design constraints imposed by supersonic travel. Again - this is a forty year old plane and the key parts of the design were probably fixed long before that.

Somewhere in the background, some ominous music is playing. Comrade Political Officer seems to have lost some of his slightly cartoonish persona too. *groan* Hmmm, some tassles on that lampshade if you'd be so kind.

Yessir - travellin' faster than light, fixin' holes in that old water cooler. Just another day out in space. I liked the vibe of that last chapter and I liked your take on the Alcubierre Drive, as in you can actually see where you're going with the Drive engaged. Very Elite: Dangerous (which is a good thing in my book) and well set up for some sightseeing! And Tycho 564b sure is pretty. Can't wait to find out what's down there.

Well that went south in a hurry. Poor Vasily - something tells me that he's not about to receive a personal dinner invitation from the Empress.

Owww. The satire - it stings. On the other hand, that has to be one of the craziest reasons I've read for putting a kerbal on the Mün. Thirty-five points and a well earned round of Internet applause to you!

That's true. Plus you get a lovely warm 'clunk' sound whenever you press a key. Way better than the tinny 'click' you get with digital keyboards. Although, for the best results you really need a gold-plated USB jack for better signal fidelity between computer and keyboard.

How did you even do that? Fantastic work!

Everyone's writing style will differ of course, so take this as you will, but I would amend that slightly to 'focus on the bizarre if it drives a plot point.' Explorers finding a weird star system, scanning it, logging it and doing a quick survey is cool but ultimately a little forgettable. But turning the weird into part of the story could lead to all sorts of good stuff. What's it like to live in a system with seven stars? (Asimov's Nightfall is a classic look at this) How would you cope with a six hour 'year'? Are there any strategic implications to that absurdly large ring system? Etc.

I think that's the Daddy version. He's old for his age but not that old.

Oh deities. All you missed out are the invisible bullets, the force fields (subtype - invincible) and the bit which Batman jumps out of to pwn everything. Otherwise you could be channeling my 8 year old nephew.

Hi, Hope you don't mind if I post comments on Chapter 1 here, rather than the 'building a galaxy' thread. First of all - I like the writing. It's easy to read and flows pretty well given the amount of detail you've included. As a reader I'm also left wanting to know more at the end of the chapter, so it's definitely working as a 'hook' to get me to read more! Lots of questions immediately spring to mind - what year are we in? How did NASA ever get out here anyway? Why was NASA tasked with getting out here? Domestic news is still fairly grim, so we're clearly not in a Star Trek style utopia here. Lots of good stuff to be picked up on later in the story if you feel so inclined. One thing I would say is that a little more background research might help, although I get that this is a first draft. Still, taking the first chapter as an example - Thallium is nasty stuff. Industrially it's very useful but Thallium salts are also highly toxic. Neither point is a problem - a planet rich in an industrially important metal is an obvious place to put a mining base and there's all sorts of mileage to be had describing life in a toxic wasteland. Not least the technical details of decontamination and dust control. It might give the first chapter a darker tone though. If I was being pedantic, there are also a couple of places where the numbers don't seem quite right. -20 C is cold for example but not so obviously cold that it would impede night time EVAs. Decent hobby grade hiking and mountaineering gear could probably cope, although admittedly they don't need to be airtight too. Anyhow, these are all first draft quibbles and in story terms, Planet 1 seems to be there primarily as a place for the protagonists to escape from! Let's see where the story goes - I look forward to finding out.

OK, I'm in. Name of product: NERF Company sourced by: Found lying by the side of the road. Source: Safer not to speculate. A bit of backstory: NERF - exactly what it says on the tin - we presume. The few scuffed, battered and generally dented cans we found by the side of the road had no discernable manufacturer name on them. Commonly believed, within the kerbonaut corps, to be short for Not Even Really Food. Type: Processed. Heavily processed. Meal designation 1: At consumer's own risk. Meal designation 2: Mystery.

Touch of the Kraken would seem to fit. Or token/seal/emblem/whatever-the-adversary-is-totin-around of the Kraken?

That's a fine chunk of work right there! Congrats and thanks for sharing!

I'll have a think but in the meantime - great to see the next chapter up - thanks! I enjoyed the banter between Twinkies 4 and 5 too.

Heh - being an ex civil servant and working with patents for a living probably helps with the dry government-speak. And Spock's burial - I can totally see that being a formative cinema experience. Funeral setting, actual death (so far as we knew at the time) of a major character and above all, finding out that Vulcan logic wasn't just a collection of high sounding platitudes. The needs of the many outweighs the needs of the few - or the one? You'd better believe it cos Spock just gave his life for it.

Thanks everyone! CF - glad it worked. One of the tougher bits of technodetail to write actually - I wanted to give a plausible reason for the accident without either making it too contrived (as in a longer chain of circumstances) or having the KIS miss anything too blindingly obvious. That was the perfect video clip to go with that final paragraph by the way. Aku - thank you for the much appreciated kind words. Superstrijder - you and me both - it was Richlin's eulogy that did it for me. An odd confession perhaps but I figured I was probably doing something right if I was misting up too. And speaking of which, I wanted to share this comment from Hazard over on the Spacebattles forum - and you'd better believe I'm working this in somewhere if he(?) okays it.

Thanks Aku. The next chapter should answer that - and a couple more questions besides. So without further ado... Black Stripes “It would be fitting but have we got time?” “I think so. Jeb had a couple of quiet words with people at the medical centre and they’ve agreed to keep him in a cold room for as long as we need. He’ll be embalmed too, just like…just like anyone else going home to their Grove.” “I thought the embalming was only temporary?” “It is. But in a cold, mostly sterile capsule? It could keep him preserved almost forever.” “What about the hardware?” “That’s the easiest part. We’ve still got a spare Moho booster in storage back from the beginning of Pioneer, when we were launching docking targets for Rockomax. We’ve certainly got no shortage of recovered Moho capsules that we can refit. Shroud the windows, extra insulation in the crew compartment - it should work.” “No sponsors obviously - that goes without saying - but did Jeb have any other ideas about paint jobs?” “I have his sketches right here. I think everyone’s going to find them very fitting too.” --------------- “Thank you, Tomass.” Lodan took the tray, waited until his aide had left, then set it down on the table. He poured water for everyone, before locking the conference room door and returning to his place. Across the table, the Chief Investigator took a quiet sip and glanced down at his papers. Jeb, Geneney, Ademone and Nelton stared at the thick, spiral-bound reports before them, the front page of each discreetly stamped with the Seal of Twelve Pillars and the wings and crossed feathers of the Kerbin Air Accident Board. Lodan nodded at the Chief Investigator, who knocked on the table for attention, opened his own copy of the report and pressed a button on the small tape recorder set in front of him. “By order of the Kerbin Air Accident Board, as authorised and instructed by the Council of Twelve Pillars, I hereby open this review and recommendation session of accident investigation nine two zero two. Here today are: Ademone Kerman, company manager, Rockomax Corporation; Geneney Kerman, Flight Director, Kerbin Space Agency; Jebediah Kerman, pilot, Kerbin Space Agency; Lodan Kerman, Director, Kerbin Space Agency; Nelton Kerman, Flight Director, Rockomax Corporation.” The Chief Investigator’s gaze rested briefly on each of them as he spoke. “All present are reminded that by Council order, this record shall be deemed accurate and inviolable with any false statement made today constituting a betrayal of that Council and punishable consecutively, to the fullest extent possible by law, in each of the Six Regionalities of Kerbin.” “The Kerbin Air Accident Board notes, with appreciation, the full and open assistance rendered to this investigation by those present, the Kerbin Space Agency and the Rockomax Corporation. That investigation is now complete and the Board wishes to place its conclusions on the public record, to make diverse recommendations therefrom and to place those recommendations also on the public record.” The Chief Investigator’s shoulders relaxed slightly as he took another sip of water. “Good kerbals, I suggest we begin with a summary of the events underlying accident nine two zero two before reviewing my recommendations for mitigating the risk of each on future flights. Copies of them can be found in the reports in front of you. We can then take a short break before reconvening to discuss a timeline and action plan for each recommendation. Does anyone have any questions?” He glanced around the table but nobody spoke up. “Very well. From the facts before me, I find that the accident was due to poor wildlife management and risk assessment, pilot error, and faulty or inappropriate hardware design compounded by insufficient design and flight qualification for test vehicle MLT-01.” He looked up at a circle of carefully neutral expressions. “Witness reports are unanimous that the primary event leading to the crash was a near bird-strike event on MLT-01 on approach to landing. In response, the pilot initiated a routine go-around manoeuvre intended to increase both altitude and speed of his vehicle. In a conventional fixed-wing aircraft this would have been the proper course of action. Regrettably, it was not the correct choice of manoeuvre for a vertical take off or landing aircraft.” The Chief Investigator bowed his head for a moment then continued. “The pilot then attempted to regain control of his aircraft but was unable to do so. Data from the telemetry recordings and recovered flight recorder indicates that the vehicle attitude and commanded pitch angle was sufficient to bring the onboard inertial measurement unit near to gimbal lock. The IMU went into recovery mode in which the locking gimbal is driven to a safing angle and the unit is restarted. By design, pitch authority was transiently halted during reset to avoid generating spurious control signals and unfortunately this loss of authority coincided with the pilot-commanded nose down manoeuvre. The vehicle therefore continued to pitch over, reaching an attitude where safe ejection was no longer possible. From here, the pilot responded correctly, cutting power to the primary jet engine and initiating an emergency roll. Regrettably there was insufficient altitude remaining to complete the roll, resulting in the loss of pilot and vehicle. The Chief Investigator took another sip of water. “Control logic analysis using test vehicle MLT-02 indicates that the MLT-01 fly-by-wire system was operating near the edge of its safety envelope due to the increased gravity compensation required to simulate a Minmus landing. Additional wind tunnel studies found a number of dynamic instabilities at high pitch angles which tend to magnify the effect of sudden rapid pilot inputs. In short, a vehicle designed for simulating VTOL flight in a Munar gravity field, did not have the required safety margins for equivalent simulated flight in a Minmus gravity field and vehicle qualification procedures were insufficient to correctly determine those margins before starting simulated landing operations.” Jeb and Geneney exchanged grim looks with Nelton whilst everyone else around the table flipped over the next page of their reports. “We will now take each contributing factor in turn. Section one begins with recommendations for KSA test flight facilities and airspace management…” --------------- The conference room door closed behind Lodan with an audible click. Ademone finished scribbling a note in the margin of her report and looked up at him. “This will need to be a joint effort,” she said bluntly. Geneney nodded. “I agree,” he said reluctantly. “Led by the KSA’s Kerballed Spaceflight Division.” He gave Jeb an apologetic look. “I’m truly sorry old friend - this is not the way I’d hoped to discuss this." Everyone braced themselves for an explosion but Jeb just stared down at the table. When he looked up again, Geneney bit his lip. For once in his life, his friend had no reply. The veteran kerbonaut and irrepressible founder of the Kerbin Interplanetary Society just looked old, tired and defeated. “I think so too,” Jeb said at last. He glanced at Lodan and for a second, ingrained defiance sparked in his eyes, only to be quickly stifled. “So what did you have in mind?” “A merger,” Lodan said quietly. “Between the KIS and Rockomax’s Crewed Spaceflight Division. To be charged, amongst other things, with all aspects of crew selection and training. I know this isn’t how you run things, Jeb.” He tapped his own copy of the air accident report, “but apart from anything else, I think it’s the only way to address the Board’s recommendations.” “A Kerballed Spaceflight Division will need a leader,” said Geneney softly. “And with respect to all the other kerbonauts, I can’t think of a better one than the first kerbal in space - and the first to walk on the Mün.” To his surprise, Jeb shook his head. “I appreciate the gesture, Gene but I don’t think I’m suited.” He managed a faint grin at Lodan. “Politics never was my strongest point. If you’re asking, then Sherfel would be my choice. Nobody’s going to argue with her flight record, she’s a natural diplomat and she knows both us and Rockomax inside-out. Ribory would be good option too, I’d say Bob, but he doesn’t have the flight experience yet.” Lodan looked at him. Well there’s something I never expected to see. Although Geneney makes a valid point too. You’re no politician, Jebediah Kerman but you are a powerful figurehead - and we’re going to need that too. “You might be right,” he said. “and your recommendation is noted. For now though, I think our first task is to persuade everyone that a merger is necessary at all. In the meantime, I think we can move ahead with the Board’s airspace management and test facilities recommendations.” --------------- The final, melancholy, strains of the Lament for the Lost Explorer faded into silence. Corvan shouldered his instrument and led the rest of his pipers, all of them bedecked in formal Spierkan funeral garb, in a stiff-legged march to the sweetblossom pole. Row upon row of mourners faced them, almost every last member of the Kerbin Interplanetary Society, and dozens more from the Rockomax Corporation, from Barkton and Foxham, and their surrounding Groves. Wernher and Jeb walked slowly down a gap in the rows, carrying a small casket between them. Richlin followed them, dressed in a black poncho and carrying a pair of small spades crossed over his chest. At the front of the crowds, the officiant waited by a stele of dark grey stone. Two small kerm wood plaques were affixed to one corner with brass screws, each bearing a name written in finely inlaid gold script. For a moment, the officiant wondered who Enley Kerman was but then the casket bearers came to a halt in front of her. She cleared her throat. “Good kerbals. We are gathered here today to celebrate the life and mourn the passing of Ornie Kerman. He was kerbal, and as he came forth from his Grove, so in the presence of us all, shall he return to his Grove." Solemnly, she took the two spades from Richlin, knelt and presented them to Wernher and Jeb, who began to dig a small trench at the foot of the trellised pole. Slowly, she stood up, withdrew a carved wooden figurine from inside her robes and held it up to the crowd. “Like us all, Ornie was a child of the Kerm. And though his body is not with us today, this poor marker shall stand in its stead. For it too is of the Kerm, and also of Ornie's Grove." Jeb and Wernher put down their tools. The officiant stepped forward, knelt, and gently placed the figurine into the trench. The casket lid tipped open and a cascade of soil tumbled out over the grave marker. All three casket bearers stepped back and bowed. The rhythmic thudding of spade against earth punctuated the silence. “Thank you." “Ornie meant many things to each of us. If anyone here today wishes to speak, to share their memories of him, we would be honoured to hear your words." Richlin stepped forward, took the radio microphone from the officiant and clipped it to his collar. Blinking hard, he turned towards the sea of faces. "Good afternoon," he said haltingly, "My name is Richlin Kerman and Ornie was my best friend." Unconsciously, Richlin straightened his poncho. "Before I met Ornie, I was just a greasebucket on the circuit; fixing up planes at the local aerodrome. I met him on the day before our airshow - he asked if I could help take a look at his plane engine which was making ‘a mighty lot of noise but not goin’ nowhere fast.’ We managed to get it working in the end, in time for Ornie to compete the next day. The afternoon after the show, he offered to take me up myself, by way of a thank you." "We went out for a drink that evening. We got to talking and by the end of the night I was going with him to the next show on the circuit. Ornie showed me the world, taught me to fly, became the best friend I ever had. When I got to fly in space before him it just didn’t seem right. Not that he ever seemed to mind. He helped me with all the training, drove me out to the launch pad that day, helped Bob strap me into the capsule. Gene told me afterwards that he was watching over me for the whole flight - didn’t leave his console until I was safely home. I just wish I… wish I could have done the same for him." Richlin hid his face in his hands, small, choked noises coming from the microphone. Blindly, he unclipped it from his collar and thrust it towards the officiant. Jeb hurried over and put his arm round his shoulders, murmuring something too faint for the watching crowd to hear. As Jeb led Richlin away, Wernher stepped forward and solemnly accepted the microphone. "Good afternoon. My name is Wernher Kerman and Ornie was one of my dearest colleagues." Wernher took a deep breath. "One of my lasting memories of Ornie was his calm good humour under pressure. He’d always laugh with you - but never, ever at you. I remember once losing a prototype engine on the test stand. This was back in the early days you understand, we didn’t have many spare engines left to use and I was not in a good mood. Ornie came out to see what was wrong, let me blow off some steam - and then took me out for lunch. 'I’ll tell you what we’ll do, Wernher,' he said, 'We're going to take a walk, we're going to grab a bite to eat and then we're going to come back, check the data and figure out what went wrong.' " "And we did. But it was something else that Ornie said that day has stayed with me ever since. 'Better that they blow up now,' he told me, 'than on the launch pad.' He lived by that philosophy and, to our deep and lasting sorrow, he died for it." "So this is what we’re going to do. Learn. Move on. Never give up. Find out what went wrong and make sure it never happens again. Ornie would expect nothing less. And to do anything less would dishonour the memory of a brave kerbonaut and one of the finest kerbals that I ever knew." Wernher bowed and passed the microphone to the waiting and shiny-eyed Jeb before walking over to stand by Richlin. The crowd silently watched Kerbin's first Munwalker fumble nervously with his collar before beginning to speak. "Good afternoon. My name is Jebediah Kerman and Ornie was my mentor." Richlin looked up in surprise as Jeb continued. "The very first time I met Ornie, I was trying to sell him some old engine parts. Bill, Bob and I were only just back on dry land after Kerbal 1. Ornie was one of the first to see Bill’s photos once they were done and we literally wouldn’t be where we are today without him and Richlin. And as the KIS bloomed beyond our wildest dreams, Ornie was always there for everyone, with a kind word or sound advice. Smoothing the way, getting the very best out of people - and teaching me everything I needed to know about that.” “He was the beating heart of the space program. He built the LVT-20 that put the first kerbals into space. He played a vital role in building the LVT-30 and LV909 engines that took us to the Mün and helped to test them both as the copilot and flight engineer for Eve 2. And that’s how I’d like everyone here today to remember him. Ornie Kerman: mentor, engineer, explorer, and above all else, a beloved and irreplaceable friend." One person after another came forward to share their memories and stories. As the last of them returned to their places, the officiant coughed discreetly. "Good kerbals, I thank you all for sharing your Ornie Kerman with us. Today we have honoured him in the traditional way, with music, stories, seeds and pole. Now, I beg you to join me in observing a new tradition for a new age of explorers.” She clicked a switch on her microphone and a familiar, but restrained, litany washed over the crowd. "Guidance?" "Go, Flight." "Booster?" "Go, Flight." "Spacecraft?" There was a sudden choked sob. "Spacecraft...spacecraft is Go." "T-minus two minutes. G-Go for engine start." As one, the funeral crowd turned towards the distant rocket on its launchpad. Unadorned by logos or sponsored slogan, the only marks on the gleaming white booster were a set of thick black stripes painted down its flanks. “…six…five...four...three...ignition...and lift-off." Smoke and fire erupted over the launchpad. From their midst the Moho booster rose majestically into the sky, carrying Ornie Kerman on his final journey to the stars. << Chapter 64: Chapter 66>>

The comments are priceless. Especially this one: "Got a call from Jeb. He said "Yeah, it exploded. And ?""

Heh. "You busy tonight, Bill?" "Not especially, Jeb. Just got this never-flown-before, experimental Warp Drive to finish up." Interesting start, electricpants. I'm not going to comment on the story right now, since we're only one chapter in. However, one thing you might want to do, just to make your story more readable, is to start a new line whenever a different character is speaking. So rather than this: You get something like this and it just makes everything a bit easier to follow: Keep at it - I look forward to reading more.

The Kraken Wakes?

Can't compete with that. My own personal 'best' was disposing of some sodium wire (used for drying solvents) in the lab. Standard procedure is (or used to be), destroy the sodium with ethanol (with which it doesn't react quite as vigorously as water), then once all the sodium is gone, flush down sink with plenty of water. That 'all the sodium is gone' part is quite important. Sodium + water + ethanol = fwumph. The soot rosette on the lab ceiling was fairly impressive. Yes I was lucky and no, I never did it again.

Another of those chapters where pointing out all the bits I liked would basically amount to re-writing it! Looks like Jerrigh is going to learn all the Ussari. And speaking of which - I'm very flattered that my own little bit of the mother tongue made it's way into the story. Loved the subverted Space Pen trope. And as for Chadvey's 'gift', well all I can there is riff on the author's own words...

Heh - Sean Bean for (temporary) Prime Minister. Rather depressingly, I'd throw more than a dash of Fawlty Towers or Monty Python in there too. But back to the story! No promises but I'm hoping to get the next chapter out by the end of this weekend. Writing eulogies, albeit short ones, has been tough.