KSK

Good deployment. Job done - still keeping fingers crossed for the booster but it's not looking great.

Yeah, my feed wasn't great either. No update on the landing yet.

Here we go!

It's only been a couple of weeks since the last update, folks. No need for concern just yet I don't think, especially if CF has been unwell.

Ack - sorry to hear that. I didn't get a notification for Jake's post either so looks like the ole forum is feeling a little flaky today. Thanks for the comments folks. And yeah, first casualty of a major character. Guess that's a writer's milestone of sorts. Although right now I'm not sure how George R R Martin handles it. Maybe you get numbed once you've killed off the first dozen or so. @Madrias , @JakeGrey Yep, there's a bit more to this than meets the eye. More to come in the next chapter so no spoilers for now but I think there are a couple of clues in the crash description. They are quite small though and may be too small to count.

All I know is that when I bang my simulated thumb with a simulated hammer, I get a lot of simulated pain and (not so) simulated swearing. Whoever is running our sim has a mean sense of humour.

Going a little off-topic but I figure you'll like this example of 'something I worked in somehow'. One of my original kerbonauts was called Geneney (lifted from a game in-progress), nicknamed 'Genie' by Jeb. And somehow, even with that nickname, I utterly failed to make the connection from Geneney to Gene. Once it was pointed out by a reader, it was obvious that I had a rather nice tie-in to everyone's favourite indomitable flight director plus a backstory for another named KSP character, so needless to say, that's where the story went. But sheesh - sometimes there are none so blind that will not see.

Process? Oh boy that's a good question. I think I've spotted elements of mine in everybody else's posts so far! For me it's a balance between having enough structure to hang the story off but not so much so as to put the whole thing on stultifying rails. Plus the good old writer's standby of a notebook by the side of your bed - or a slightly more modern day version of that anyway. Most of the gross structure is in my head. A dangerous place for sure but also a very fluid one. Some of it escapes into chunks of notes on my computer. If I get an idea, that goes in the notes too, whether it be a bit of dialogue, a particularly good tie-in to earlier events in the story (IMO at any rate ) or a plot update. I have more than a couple of 'emails to self' sent from work, with bits and pieces of First Flight in. All written on my lunch break, natch. A bit of a mishmash all told but it works for me to the point where I've been juggling anything up to half a dozen plot lines over three years without too many egregious continuity errors - I hope! I know roughly where each of them are going and I know where they'll all end up - I've had the last paragraph written down for a long time now. What I don't know is precisely how they'll get there. Even the major landmarks wander around occasionally and the detailed scenery between them is really just a mental 'here be stuff' scribble until it's finally written down. Last note - if you're lucky enough to get them, the one huge advantage with serial writing are your readers. Sometimes they'll spot things or make connections within the story that you'll never have thought of. There's no need to write your story by committee but on the other hand there's no shame in borrowing suggestions that work either. Just make sure you acknowledge them - it's polite and more prosaically, it can really help build a community around your story thread. And speaking personally, nothing beats the buzz of readers 'getting' your story and speculating on where it's going next! Anyway - sorry for the wall of text. Here endeth the lesson.

Next chapter is up. Quite a bit a shorter than usual and may contain snafus - I found this one pretty hard to edit. And Fears The Minmus landing trainer squatted on the launch pad, four angular girders supporting a central jet engine. A cage of struts over and around the engine held an array of fuel tanks, reaction control thruster blocks, radar antennas and a pair of LV-9T throttled rocket engines. A symmetrical set of booms, jutting out from the cage, sported another set of thruster blocks and the pilot’s ejection seat protruded from the front, surrounded on three sides by corrugated iron panels. Standing at a safe distance, behind a prominent yellow line on the ground, Jeb watched the preparations for Ornie’s next test flight. Barely new enough for its concrete to be certified for flight operations, too new for the launch tower sections and other supporting infrastructure to have arrived, Pad 3 marked the far edge of the rapidly expanding Barkton Space Centre facilities. The ground crew climbed aboard their truck and Jeb hastily clamped a pair of heavy ear-defenders over his head. The start-cart’s high pitched scream broke the quiet, startling a flock of birds into flight. As they scattered, squawking silently over the mechanical din, the ascending howl of a jet engine spooling up added to the noise levels. Ornie raised his arm, a pneumatic hose fell away from the underside of his ungainly aircraft and the ground support truck peeled away. Ornie watched it cross the yellow line, waited another minute for safety, then fed power to the LV-9Ts and floated into the air. Jeb watched the MLT accelerate into a zig-zag ascent, canting sharply left then right at impossible angles, only kept airborne by its gimballed jet engine and constant thruster inputs from the autopilot and fly-by-wire system. Ornie climbed higher, side-slipping far away from the launchpad, before bringing his vehicle to a hover. Eyes intent on his instruments, he tipped the trainer back into pitch-over attitude then began a simulated powered descent. Curving low over the scrub grass and weeds around the launchpad, the noise from the training vehicle scared another pair of birds out of the undergrowth. To Jeb’s sudden horror, they flapped past the intruder, screeching indignantly and missing the pilot enclosure by metres. Startled, Ornie reflexively jammed his throttle wide open and hauled back on his attitude controller. The MLT lurched skywards, nose pointing vertically up then tipping over backwards. Instantly, Ornie cut the power to his engines and slammed the attitude controller hard forward, but instead of obediently pushing nose-downward, the MLT continued it’s backward roll. Without pausing to think, he wrenched the joystick sideways, rolling his aircraft upright, other hand pulling back on the throttle lever… One of the protruding thruster booms dug into the ground, shearing straight off and sending the MLT cartwheeling into the air, before flipping over and slamming back to earth. The superstructure crumpled under the impact, driving twisted steel spears through the jet engine housing. Pressurised fuel tanks ruptured in a concussive blast, spraying out a blazing mixture of jet fuel and high test peroxide. The ejector seat shot free, trailing flaming debris behind it before smashing into the ground, tumbling over and over and finally coming to a stop. Jeb was already racing for the ground support truck. Grabbing an extinguisher from the back, he thumped on the cab window, jabbing his finger at the distant Space Centre buildings, them miming a telephone call. The white-faced driver nodded and, no sooner had Jeb sprinted clear, than the truck screeched away, laying down thick streaks of rubber against the concrete. Pausing only to douse a handful of grass fires with his extinguisher, Jeb dashed along the trail of metal fragments and churned up earth until at last, he came to the wrecked ejector seat on its side with Ornie still strapped in. Mercifully his eyes were closed and miraculously he seemed to be intact, although large areas of his flight suit were soaked with blood. Jeb approached on suddenly watery legs, set his jaw and reached out to touch his friend’s throat. His legs gave way at the faint, fluttering beat under his fingers and he sank to the ground, turning his head away from Ornie’s battered face. The airborne rescue team found him sitting by the ejector seat, arms wrapped around his knees, watching the still-burning MLT through tear-blurred eyes. One medic wrapped a blanket around the shivering kerbonaut, pressing a flask of hot djeng into his hands and talking to him in low, soothing tones. Behind them, his grim-faced colleagues began cutting Ornie free of the wreckage. ----------- Hesitantly, Wernher stepped through the side door of VAB Two, taking in the organised chaos within. The spare Minmus landing trainer stood in one corner of the room surrounded by blueprints and engineering drawings pinned to the wall. Bill, Lucan and other members of the electronics team sat hunched over a table, studying a set of heavily annotated flowcharts. Much of the remaining floor space was taken up with the painstakingly recovered remains of Ornie's MLT. So far as Wernher could see, every last kerbal in the Propulsion and Structural Engineering teams, overseen by blue-uniformed investigators from the Kerbin Air Accident Board, were sifting through them, labelling even the smallest fragments of metal and piecing them together. A few of the pieced together parts resembled components of an MLT. Most of them didn’t. Wernher walked over and tapped Jeb on the shoulder. “The medical centre just called,” he murmured. “We should go.” Jeb nodded heavily. “I’ll round up Bob and Gene. You get Bill and Lucan.” ----------- Geneney shoved the stack of folders into his safe, locked it and then hurried out of his office to find Bill, Bob, Lucan and Wernher waiting outside. “Richlin?” he asked. “Can’t find him anywhere, “ said Bob. “Jeb’s had him on make-work all day to keep him out of the VAB, but there’s no sign of him.” “That might be for the best,” said Geneney reluctantly. “We should get moving - I’ll send Jeb back to find him once he’s dropped us off at the medical centre.” He opened the warehouse door, only to be greeted by a flushed and breathless Richlin clutching a large paper bag. “Sorry, Gene. I finished pulling out all the Eve capsule schematics to send over to Rockomax like Jeb asked, so I thought I’d take a break.” He gave Geneney an embarrassed smile. “I stopped off on the way back to get some fruit for Ornie.” Richlin shook the bag. “I got him some of his favourite blueberries - he likes the Doreni ones best you know.” “I didn’t know that,” said Geneney gently “We were just about to go visit him, Richlin. Would you like to come too?” Richlin’s face lit up. “That would be great - thanks, Gene! He’ll be so pleased to see everyone.” He looked around. “Hey - what about Jeb? Isn’t Jeb coming too?” “Jeb’s just fetching his car, Richlin. Look here he comes now.” Jeb wound down his car window. “Hi Richlin - they found you then?” “My fault,” Richlin replied cheerfully. “I was out getting blueberries for Ornie!” The corner of Jeb’s eye twitched. “That’s great, Richlin,” he said carefully. “He’ll like those. Squeeze in people - we’d better be going.” The journey to the medical centre passed in awkward half conversation, nobody having the heart to ignore Richlin’s chatter entirely. Jeb cast around desperately for something to say. “So - how did the KDS Stretch test flight go?” he asked at last. “That was supposed to be today wasn’t it?” “It didn’t,” said Bob briefly. “They got bad pogo on the lateral boosters although everything held together until staging. Core stage dropped on schedule but something must have shaken loose somewhere because the upper stage blew itself to pieces just after start-up.” Jeb’s knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. “Oh,” he said. “Un-crewed test, wasn’t it?” Bob nodded. “It was. Fortunately.” “No harm then,” said Richlin, “Wernher can work some redesign magic and Ornie can lend a hand too, as soon as he gets out of hospital!” There was an uncomfortable silence. “I don’t know, Richlin,” said Wernher at last, “It was a bad crash - it might be a long time before they let Ornie out.” “Oh, it’ll take more than that to stop Ornie,” said Richlin confidently. “You haven’t known him as long as I have - he’s one tough kerb you know. Besides, he’ll have the Kerm to fix him up - he’ll be good as new!” Bob stared out of the window to hide the tears at the corner of his eyes. Wernher just nodded. “I’m sure they’ll do their best, Richlin. And you’re right - he’ll have the Kerm to look after him too.” Jeb pulled up outside the Barkton medical centre. Silently, everyone climbed out of his car and made their way over to Reception, Richlin carrying his bag of fruit and humming softly as he walked. The receptionist looked up as Jeb approached the desk, a flicker of recognition and sympathy crossing her face; quickly replaced by a professional smile. "Visitors for Ornie Kerman?" Jeb nodded. Wait till you see him, Jeb. No sense getting your hopes up yet. "We are, yes. Could you tell us where his ward is please?" The receptionist's smile slipped a notch. "He's still in the moss room I'm afraid. You can find it down the corridor to the left there, through the doors, then second on the right. Room number three." Jeb summoned up a small smile of his own. "Thank you." Moss room number three turned out to be an airy, pleasantly air-conditioned chamber dominated by the Kerm trunk growing through the centre of the domed ceiling and the circular pool in front of it. A figure floated in the middle of the pool, body obscured by a blanket of sweetmoss, a thicket of tendrils emerging from the water around him and burrowing into the soil around the base of the Kerm trunk. Richlin darted forward with a happy cry, waving his bag. "Ornie! How they treating you? Bet they won't have brought you any blueberries!" Two medics hurried towards him, a third, dressed in a wrinkled grey robe walked over to the others. One look at the Keeper’s bloodshot eyes told Jeb everything he needed to know. “I’m so sorry. Believe me, we tried everything we could but the damage was simply too great to repair.” Jeb nodded blankly. He heard Richlin’s puzzled question from across the room. “What? No, no - that can’t be right. Ornie’s tough you know. He’ll just need to rest a bit longer but he’ll be fine - you wait and see.” The medic knelt down beside Richlin, murmuring something too faint to hear. The sudden bewildered plea in his voice tore at Jeb’s heart. “Tell them they’re just being silly, Ornie. Tell them you’re going to be alright!” “Ornie? Please wake up, Ornie.” “Ornie?” << Chapter 63: Chapter 65>>

Deliberately putting physics glitches back into the game because one of them happens to be a bit of exploity fun? Doesn't sound like a great idea to me. If you're that desperate for 'futuristic' engines, just turn on infinite fuel.

Yup - I think the sequel has been on hold for a while due to other commitments and projects eating into Jake's time. The Spacebattles forum mods are pretty good about unlocking threads though, so if he does find time to get back to it there shouldn't be any problems. And on a totally different note, I had an idea on the way home tonight. Once I've finished First Flight, if I ever get round to editing it then I need to include this line somewhere. "Fire in the Sky - we put the Rock into Rocket Science!" \m/ Well it amused me anyway - but then again it is Friday and I have the weekend to look forward to - doesn't take much to amuse me right now.

They're still using kludges, slapped together with available parts though. I guess some things never change huh?

Crashed alien spacecraft - the ultimate 'parts found lying by the side of the road'.

You couldn't make it up, could you? I did wonder whether a stuck lens cap was getting a bit lolkerbal for First Flight - I don't think I'd have dared go as far as scooping the thing up and sampling it!

Four apparently, although there were backups on the first two. From Wikipedia: The Venera 9 lander operated for at least 53 minutes and took pictures with one of two cameras; the other lens cap did not release. The Venera 10 lander operated for at least 65 minutes and took pictures with one of two cameras; the other lens cap did not release. The Venera 11 lander operated for at least 95 minutes but neither cameras' lens caps released. The Venera 12 lander operated for at least 110 minutes but neither cameras' lens caps released.

Nope - just add them to the end of this thread. Make a backup of the entire post somewhere then when you're overhauling Chapter 1, just delete everything after the end of that chapter. Re-post the subsequent chapters (on this thread) one at a time once you're done overhauling them.

Just caught up with this now. I really liked the letter to Ariel - nice bit of world building and historical aside! Just a quick thought if you're doing an overhaul anyway - you could maybe do each chapter in a separate post and put in a chapter list ( with links ) at the start. Lets people give you more than one like for your story.

Ahh yes - that's a good point. I was thinking that anyone of an age or disposition to tear through First Flight in five days wasn't going to be fazed by that but yeah - good catch and fair warning.

OK, for my money, they're both right. You have some lovely turns of phrase but you also have a tendency to be a little repetitive in places or to go into 'stream of consciousness' writing where Jabe does this and then this and then that happens so she does the other. That style of writing certainly has its place but it also slows the story down and takes some of the drama out of what is otherwise a very tense situation. Let's take a leaf out of Ten Key's book and have another look at those opening lines: " It had been 4 days in high Kerbin orbit. I had just set the record for the longest duration in space. I also was the first female Kerbal in space. "Jabe, get ready for retrofire in T-3 minutes", rang in Chris Kerman, the mission Capcom. It was the end of a long journey for me. I leaned forward against my restraints and looked out onto the vast ocean of blue velvet below me. The water shined and glistened brilliantly, and formed a blue crest against the blackness of space. It was beautiful, and it was coming to an end for me." OK, there are a couple of redundant sentences in there. "It was the end of a long journey for me." We know this already from the opening sentence. "it was beautiful and it was coming to an end for me." We already know about the beauty - you just described it And again - we already know that it was coming to an end, although arguably a little repetition works quite nicely there in a melancholy sort of way. Let's take out the redundancy and let's take out Chris's part too since having him cluttering up the airwaves definitely breaks up the mood. What does that leave us with? "It had been 4 days in high Kerbin orbit. I had just set the record for the longest duration in space. I also was the first female Kerbal in space. I leaned forward against my restraints and looked out onto the vast ocean of blue velvet below me. The water shined and glistened brilliantly, and formed a blue crest against the blackness of space. And it was coming to an end for me." Getting there! A wee bit of tidying up needed still - you'll probably have your own ideas on how best to do that but here's one example: "It had been four record breaking days in high Kerbin orbit. First female Kerbal in space on the longest - and highest - flight so far. I leaned forward against my restraints and looked out onto the vast ocean of blue velvet below me. The water shone and glistened brilliantly, forming a deep blue crest against the blackness of space. And all of it was about to come to an end." And there it is. A bit punchier whilst hopefully catching the same bittersweet mood of your original version and which also adds a tiny bit of ambiguity to the end by way of a small hook. Or at least that's my interpretation - your opinion, quite rightly, may differ!

Here you go. I might be a teeny bit biased about this - but you're in for a treat. And I have a sudden urge to re-read it myself!

Wow - has it only been a year Kuzzter? It sure was a productive one - and here's to another! *clink* I'm not entirely sure what my initial 'hook' was to be honest. Possibly a combination of my fic being an origin story and a relatively serious attempt at writing about an amateur space program that really did start in a junkyard. That and setting up a bigger hook (everything that happens away from the space program) before the initial hook got too tired. In the immortal words of one latecomer to the thread: Fortunately this was followed up with "more reading required!" rather than "Uhh - no."

Bah - editor decided that I needed everything in italics for my last post. Lets start again. Where was I... Ahh yes. CF, OrtwinS - very glad the writing has succeeded in capturing Good Jordanisms whilst avoiding Bad Jordanisms! I remember OrtwinS comment well - if I recall correctly, I'd just spent two paragraphs or so describing Gerselle and Joenie planting out weeds. There was method in the madness - that piece of worldbuilding has popped up a couple of times since - but at the time it was definitely a good comment well made. And no - no Jordan anxiety, although you might just have kicked off a bout of Erikson anxiety. I think I've got a plan for wrapping up all the plot threads into a coherent whole but I guess you folks will have to be the judge of that in the end. One thing's for sure though, that plan has been vastly improved by a comment from Ten Key. A little twist of perspective and suddenly what was in danger of being slightly contrived suddenly flows very naturally. More on that to come. Yukon - welcome back! Yep, still rolling on although there is an ending I promise. Superstrijder15 - what to say. Thank you so much for the kind words and I hope you enjoy the rest of Jonton's story as it unfolds!

Spike-covered medieval device still rampaging around, CF? That sucks - hope things get better soon. I'm tickled by all the lens cap comments - I had no idea that had been a problem in real life! Good thing the Hope probes haven't been dispatched to Eve yet is all I'm saying and yeah - those poor Soviet engineers. Reminds me a bit of Monty Python and the Holy Grail. So I built a castle launched a probe to Venus and it sank into the swamp the lens cap got stuck. So I sent another one - and the lens cap got stuck... So I sent another and ЬЯЗZHЙЭVS SHФЗ, the PЦTIЙSКI lens cap got stuck!

Well Red Mars is a prime example, assuming it flies. SpaceX get their publicity shot/technology demonstrator/milestone in their Mars programme, call it what you want. NASA get access to SpaceX's data on supersonic retropropulsion techniques for Mars landings and don't pay a cent of direct costs for the mission, although they do make very significant contributions-in-kind in terms of sharing their data with SpaceX. If you can't see how more shared missions like that would help both sides then I'm not really sure what to say. As regards the extensive checking, I disagree with your analysis and believe the enquiry found that NASA internal culture played a significant role too - but that's getting political so we'd probably better steer clear of that particular discussion. No - F9 has already lowered launch prices. I don't know how reliable these figures are especially given the rather large acknowledged caveat that "It should be noted that not all rocket prices are publicly available, in fact, most aren't." However, other launch companies efforts to put themselves on more competitive footing with SpaceX have been fairly widely reported, which makes me think that F9 has lowered launch costs, although certainly not by the rather grandiose amounts that Musk has claimed full reusability will enable. So I stand by my original comment, thank you.

Not sure how I missed this first time around. I deliberately didn't give my Wernher an accent. At the time it was a cliché I wanted to avoid, although I've kinda mellowed on that point since. However, I very much wanted to get away from the von Braun comparison - since that comes with a fair few expectations about Wernher's background which I also wanted to avoid - and just write about plain old Wernher Kerman.