KSK

Hi ZooNamedGames, I've only skimmed Recover Vessel very quickly, although I'll certainly read through it properly when I get a moment. With that said, I have a couple of comments. First of all - don't get too disheartened about numbers of comments on your thread. With the best will in the world, this is primarily a gaming forum rather than a fanfic forum and I think the general level of participation on Fanworks threads reflects that. So with that said - how to drum up more feedback on your work? I think the number one best way is simply to keep writing. A thread that's regularly updated will normally get more interest than one that's allowed to stagnate. Please note that I'm definitely not the best person to be preaching about this these days, although in fairness, I was a lot quicker back when I started my thread. A couple of other things you could try. Update your thread title when you release a new chapter. Again, I don't do this myself but I've seen it work very well on other threads. Include a link to your story on your forum signature - it's free advertising. Next - add a chapter listing at the start of your thread with links to the relevant posts. That doesn't matter so much at the start but it's helpful to new readers when your story gets longer. Finally - hang around on other fanfic threads. If nothing else, reading other people's work will help you develop as a writer - not a criticism, I think this is true regardless of what level you're writing at, but more importantly 'what goes around comes around'. If you're posting on other folks' threads (particularly if you have that link to your story in your signature), some of them may come over to hang out on yours, or at least link to it. Edit: One other thing - I'm personally not a big fan of asking for feedback directly in the story thread or holding out on your readers by only releasing new material if you get a certain level of interest. I completely understand why people do it - see my first comment about participation levels, but I think it looks a bit needy and - more importantly - I've never really seen it work. Moving on to the story itself, the basic premise is neat and refreshingly different to most of the other stories on the forum. Like I said, I've only skimmed it but I'm looking forward to giving it a proper read-through. More comments to follow if you want them! Edit the 2nd. Quite apart from anything else - good job with your story! You've taken the all important step of getting the ideas out of your head and onto the page. Anything after that is icing on the cake.

I disagree with A). I have no idea what Mr Musk is actually like as a CEO (compared to his public persona) but he's got every incentive to be honest. If I was a paying customer, strapping a multimillion dollar satellite to the top of a SpaceX rocket, I'd expect nothing less than total transparency and go elsewhere if I didn't get it. Neither would I care too much about the cheap launch costs - that's nice but as others have pointed out on this thread, launch costs are only a small part of the operational costs of building and running that satellite. With regards to B) I don't follow the logic. The fact that SpaceX are 'checking out' the booster tells us precisely nothing about how reusable it is. Whether it ends up being reusable or not, I'd expect the first few recovered boosters to be extensively checked over and compared to see how different re-entry regimes affects their flightworthiness. Once you've gathered enough data to be confident in the basic design then it should be possible (I would think - I aint an engineer) to dial back the extensive checking and develop a workable inspection regime. C) I'm pretty sure they have, although not as far as they were hoping and not as far as they expect to with a reusable booster. D) Agreed. My answer to OP's question is 'both' Both NASA and SpaceX are doing just fine in their respective areas. Hopefully we'll see more overlap between them in future so that they can both do even greater things.

Headcannons. When you absolutely, positively must weaponise your headcanon. Accept no substitutes. Sorry - couldn't resist the entirely apposite typo!

You're more than welcome. Glad to see your thread picking up some well-deserved traffic! Next up - a big thanks to superstrijder (I think I spelled that right ) for all your endorsements. Posting elsewhere on the forum whilst watching the 'likes' popping up in real-time was a wonderfully heartening experience! And finally - the next chapter is up. Hopes Enely stared at the multi-storey Keeper’s hut, its three stacked rings braced against the trunk of an enormous Kerm tree; the upper tiers built from a pale wood that stood out sharply from the Kerm bark and darker, more substantial lower tier. He looked up at the mesh of ropes suspending each level from the ring of branches above it and the ropeways winding round the trunk between them, and shuddered. “That third storey is new,” said Cal happily. “Wonder if they’ll let us up there afterwards? I bet the view is just sathy from that height.” He noticed Enely’s fixed expression. “Don’t worry - plenty of bunks in the main hut and there’s almost no queue yet. With a bit of luck we may even snag a bunk in Jonton’s room and you’ll get to meet him!” Enely fingered the square of cardboard in this pocket. “I hope so,” he said. “But if we don’t, perhaps I can meet him anyway whilst you’re enjoying the view from upstairs.” He and Cal reached the top of the hill and stopped to wait for Tivie and the rest of their group to catch up. Cal checked his watch, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. The others strolled up the hill in ones and twos, talking amongst themselves and enjoying the relative cool of the early morning. Enely suppressed a smile as Cal grabbed Tivie by the hand and trotted off along the winding path leading to the hut, before following them both at a more sedate pace. Closer to, he noticed that the irregularly interlocking planks making up the hut walls were peppered with odd whorled designs between a more regular pattern of knots. Puzzled, he traced one of them with a finger, the tightly wound spirals a rich dark black, stained by layer upon layer of varnish. Then he started in sudden understanding. Kerm wood - the whole thing is built from Kerm wood. But nobody’s done that for… How old is this place? The hut door opened and for a fleeting instant Enely found himself face to face with a tired looking kermol. Her eyes swept the gathering crowd in front of her, tiredness banished behind a warm smile. “Greetings, good kerbals and welcome. My name is Gerselle - please come in.” Enely braced himself and followed the queue inside, looking around curiously at the plainly decorated kitchen and eating room. The kerm wood walls were polished to a soft glow and colourful homespun rugs littered the toy strewn floor. A brightly painted and, so far as Enely could see, empty chest stood in one corner. Cinnamon tickled the back of his throat and he frowned. “This way please - excuse the mess.” Gerselle opened another door and the tickle became an insistent rasp agains the roof of his mouth, making him cough. Embarrassed, he covered his mouth with one hand and followed Gerselle into what was very obviously a sleep room. He looked up from another muffled cough and clamped his hand to his face in shock. Jonton? Must be - but what…? Surreptitiously he stared at the figure leaning against the trunk, trying to make out where Kerm ended and kerbal began. All the leaves around his head - he must be Communing already but he’s still watching us. How on… “Thanks, love. Welcome everybody, and for anyone who’s visited before, welcome back.” Jonton smiled. “Please - take a bunk and join me. We don’t have too many guests this morning so Gerselle and I won’t need to keep you waiting long.” Jonton gestured at the nearest bunk. “Each bunk has two pillows but if you need another one, do let me know. For now, just make yourselves comfortable so that the leaf clusters are just resting against your forehead. The leaves will tickle a bit to start with but that shouldn’t last long.” Enely sat down on the nearest bunk and removed his shoes. Across the room he saw Cal doing the same. He flashed Enely a quick thumbs up before lying back and wedging a pillow under his head. Enely looked around the room as more kerbals took their places and the enormity of the situation finally struck home. We're going to do this. All of us - Communing with one Kerm. He flicked a glance at Jonton. Or so Cal said but he's not a Keeper. And something about that Keeper doesn't look right to me. With a mental shrug, Enely lay back on his own mattress and propped his head lightly against the overhanging leaves. There was a brief pause followed by a familiar tickling against his scalp and then a soothing white light. He barely had time to wonder at the unfamiliar sensation before the expected rush of images, emotions and then, shockingly, mental voices, rolled over him. --------- Well that... explains... explains everything. Tears trickled down Enely's cheeks but whether they were from the emotional backwash from his brother and sister kerbals, the story he'd just witnessed or the raw-edged memories of Communing with his own Kerm slicing their way to the surface, he couldn't tell. Automatically, he ran his fingers gently through his hair, checking that the Kerm leaves had properly disengaged. And Pillars preserve me, I can understand why Cal and Tivie came back to see that again. He sat up and swung his feet off the bunk, relieved to see that his weren't the only moist eyes in the room. Cal walked over to him, eyes red-rimmed, sniffling against the back of his hand. "That was even better second time around." he mumbled thickly. "Our story...sharing it with Jonton and everyone else. Worth every step of the walk and everything we put aside to get here again." He cleared his throat. "Think me and Tivie'll get some fresh air - along with everyone else I'd expect. You still wanting to talk to Jonton?" Enely nodded. "If he'll speak to me. I think I might be some time - shall I meet you back at the marquee." "That would be lovely," said Tivie, draping her arm over Cal's shoulders. "Good luck, Enely - I hope Jonton can help you with whatever you were looking for." "Me too," said Cal, "He'd better not go malka on you, Sage or no Sage." He clapped Enely on the back and joined the small queue of kerbals still filtering out of the sleep room. Enely waited patiently on his bunk, eyes downcast. He fished Donman's token out of his pocket and sat quietly, rubbing his thumb over the gold embossed seal. He heard the faint click of the door closing behind the last pilgrim and then a soft, enquiring cough. He looked up to find Jonton staring at him curiously. "Can I help you?" "I'm not sure," said Enely, "but I was told you could." He stood up and proffered the token to Jonton. "And sent to find you." Jonton's eyebrows rose and he looked at Enely more speculatively. "This looks official," he said. "Who sent you, if you don't mind me asking?" "Chief Ambassador Donman," said Enely. "It is a long story I'm afraid." "They always are somehow," remarked Jonton, half to himself. "but a strange kerbal sent on a mysterious errand from Donman is the longest one yet, I'm thinking." He peered at the square of embossed card. "Even if you weren't carrying this, I'd be curious. Did Donman give you any kind of message to bring?" "I don't think so," said Enely slowly. "He just said that if there was one person on Kerbin who could understand what I'd been through, it would be you. Then he told me that he'd communed with you." He paused, eyes roaming over the top of Jonton's head. "At the time I thought he was just talking about communing with your Kerm - which was strange enough - but after this morning, I'm beginning to think that he meant exactly what he said.” Jonton nodded. “That’s another long story,” he said. “But yours first I think if Donman has sent you halfway around Kerbin to tell it.” He smiled at Enely’s surprised look. “You’re not the only Wakiran visitor we’ve had since this began.” He reached over to his pedestal and poured Enely a mug of water. “Something to wet your throat before we start.” Enely sipped his water for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before putting the mug to one side. “They were looking for volunteers,” he began, “to help start new Groves. Hazachim especially - I suppose they thought that desert farmers could make a Grove work nearly anywhere. For my village, the timing couldn’t have been better. Our Kerm had just seeded and we didn’t know what to do; we’re right on the edge of the Hazachi, we couldn’t think of anywhere to plant a new Grove and our Keeper was at her wits end. So going with them was an easy decision, although if I’d known there’d be quite as much sea travel involved I might not have been so keen.” Jonton listened politely to Enely’s description of his voyage to Dazji island and the founding of his new village, only starting to pay attention when the tale moved onto details of Kerm cuttings and planting what would become its second year saplings, interjecting the occasional question of his own. His face darkened, branches rustling in anger at Enely’s description of the Forseti invasion and by the time the uprooted Kerm saplings were being loaded onto their ship, the sleep chamber was thick with flying Kerm leaves and the cloying stench of cinnamon. Outrage gave way to a brief smile as Enely described his first Communion, which rapidly turned into horror and then deep mourning as he finished his story with his conversation with Donman at the sunset pyre. Enely looked up at the muffled sob from the doorway and saw Gerselle drying her eyes on her poncho sleeve. Behind him, he heard Jonton blowing his nose vigorously. “I can see what Donman sent you here,” he said at last. “Although I think he was being optimistic about the understanding part. But what about you, Enely?” “He can stay with us,” said Gerselle firmly. “And when the memories get too much, he can Commune with you. It’ll be close enough to be good for him but not close enough to remind him.” She and Jonton shared a look. “Whatever else Donman may say, you are definitely the only person on Kerbin that can do that for him, Jonton Kermol.” Enely looked at them both. “That would be extremely kind,” he said softly. “Thank you. But ‘not close enough to remind me?’ Who are you, Jonton? And what happened to your Kerm? I didn’t get much time as a Keeper but that Communion with you and the others…that wasn’t anything like any Communion that I remember.” “No,” agreed Jonton. “It wouldn’t have been. And I think it’s time you heard my long story if you’d like to join me again?” “I would,” said Enely, lying back on his bunk and adjusting the pillow under his head. “I would like that very much.” --------- “Flight, Payload.” “Go ahead, Payload.” “Fairing jettison confirmed, Flight. Receiving telemetry from all four button sats.” “Copy that, Payload. Status please, Booster.” “Looking good, Flight. Second stage engine is Go. Passing through one-ten kilometres.” “Thanks, Booster.” Geneney watched Lucan make a note in his logbook, headset plugged into the console alongside his, switching from one communication loop to the next, completely absorbed in the ebb and flow of conversation from the flight controllers. He clicked his own microphone over to their private channel. “What’s your reading, Flight?” Lucan started, eyes flicking rapidly over his console. “Uh, concur with Booster. Engine is Go. Guidance is… one moment.” He toggled his headset. “Guidance sounds pretty relaxed, boss. Can’t tell for sure without going on-loop, but I think we’re Go.” Geneney glanced at the repeater displays on his own console. “Recommend you check your rate indicators, Flight.” He saw Lucan frown for a second before his expression cleared. “Copy that, boss. Attitude control stable - minimal vehicle excursion in roll and yaw. Pitch looking good.” “Chamber pressure?” “High but stable, and under redline.” “Booster call?” Silently, Geneney counted down the seconds. watching Lucan from the corner of his eye. He reached zero just as the other kerbal looked up. “Negative, boss. No change, no call.” Satisfied, Geneney nodded. “Always watch your own repeaters. The comm loops are good for situational awareness and gauging flight team mood but never get lost in them. You have the critical figures right in front of you so use them. Now - what’s your recommendation on that overpressure?” “Wait for controller report at SECO minus two minutes,” said Lucan promptly. “Check pressure at SECO minus one, wait ten, call for throttle-back if required.” “Good. Why?” “Midline pressure at SECO-1 to mitigate hard restart.” Geneney’s headset crackled. “Flight, Booster.” “Go ahead, Booster.” “Chamber pressure high and holding at SECO minus two, Flight. Recommend throttleback shutdown.” “Noted and confirmed, Booster. Thank you.” For the rest of Minmus 1’s climb to orbit, Lucan flipped back and forth between the Booster and Guidance loops, eyes glued to his repeater displays. The second stage engine shut down on time at the correct pressure and he hastily stifled a sigh of relief. The checkout orbit flew past in a stream of status reports from the Payload and Comms teams, confirming vehicle startup, deployment of the PV arrays and the successful activation of a host of other critical systems. Then Geneney leaned forward in his chair and Lucan gripped the edge of his console. “All stations report in for TMI.” One by one, the controllers gave their go-ahead. Lucan let go of his console with an effort. Would you relax, he told himself. It's not like there’s a crew up there. “Booster is Go. Starting re-press and ullage sequence.” Lucan’s gaze flicked from his console to his Flight Director and back again. Geneney sat calmly in his chair. “Tank pressures nominal. Igniters armed. Go at thirty.” “Ullage motors firing…and we have ignition. Thrust at ten percent… throttling up…” Everyone in the control room turned to watch the main screen, currently showing Minmus 1’s orbital track around Kerbin. On a smaller screen to one side, velocity and projected apoapsis readouts both raced upwards and then suddenly stopped. A light on Geneney’s console winked out. “Flight, Booster.” “Go ahead, Booster.” “Injection burn complete, Flight. Payload deployment confirmed.” “Thanks, Booster.” Geneney reached for his coffee cup and took a long drink. “Good work team. FD - let’s get those trajectory numbers firmed up before we hand the vehicle over to Probodyne. --------- Twin spacecraft raced through the outer reaches of the Kerbol system. Far beyond the orbit of Duna they flew, their passage through the asteroid belt marked by a solitary speck on a pair of photographs, both long since transmitted home to Kerbin, itself reduced to a pale blue dot against the vast blackness. Sending that picture home would be a task for another spacecraft on another day and in time it would become an iconic image of the space age. For now, the need to conserve fuel overrode all other considerations; even the tiny quantities of propellant needed to spin the spacecraft around being saved for the rigours to come. Onwards they travelled whilst other spacecraft made landfall on Duna, probing its soils and atmosphere and finding them suitable for life. Outward they soared whilst, far behind them, kerbals walked on the Mün, making light of the impossible and sparking the all-consuming efforts of Project Starseed. And now, at last, their long journey was finally drawing to a close. A dot against the starscape gradually expanded into a luminous green disk attended by three darker dots, each long studied by kerbal astronomers who named them Laythe, Tylo and Vall. Now ragged bands of shadow and brightness could be seen across the face of the disk, lending perspective and revealing it as a colossal sphere streaked by complex patterns of cloud and lashed by titanic winds. The two spacecraft raced the emerald behemoth, leading it then swinging past; letting its immense gravity brake them onto a new trajectory. Now they spun, obeying long-ago programmed instructions, engines pointing forward at a carefully calculated angle. Streams of glowing gas erupted from one, slowing it still further and closing it's path; a tiny Joolian mun on a collision course with it's bigger cousin Laythe. The other spacecraft flew on, its fate decided by a pair of wires. Accidentally placed too close together, a pulse of electricity through one wire was enough to melt a bridge to the second. Onboard systems sensed the short circuit, shutting off the power and preventing a possible fire. But the damage had been done. A relay failed to close on command, starving a heater coil of power. A frozen fuel line remained frozen to the end, starving its rocket engine of vital propellant. Pressure sensors detected the lack of fuel, triggering backup programs within the probe core. Attitude control thrusters fired to compensate but the moment had passed. Too little, too late, the smaller rocket engines too weak to slow the spacecraft enough for even a gas giant to snare it. Eventually it would skim past a pollen grain shaped boulder, before breaking free of the Jool system and flying onwards into the outer reaches, trapped in a long lonely orbit about distant Kerbol. The discovery of a hitherto unknown Joolian munlet provided scant compensation for Hope 1's builders, now watching anxiously from many millions of kilometres as Hope 2 sped towards its destination. Thrusters fired, turning a collision course into a grazing pass through Laythe’s atmosphere, or what the Laythe Observation and SpecTroscopy team hoped would be a grazing pass. With no time for a pathfinding flyby mission to supplement observations from Kerbin and allow more precise trajectory calculations, the best the LOST mission planners could do was to err on the side of caution, recommend an increased margin on the heat shield and hope for the best. Hope 2 broke apart, aeroshell base gliding away from spindly upper body. Thrusters fired again, nudging the upper body onto a flyby trajectory, doomed to endlessly loop back and forth between Jool and Laythe, sporadically transmitting data back to Kerbin until its batteries could no longer hold the meagre charge gleaned from its photovoltaic cells. Meanwhile, the base shell plunged onwards towards its own fate. Days passed, then hours, then mere minutes. Tiny rockets around the rim of the base shell fired again, making final attitude adjustments. The first faint wisps of gas ripped themselves apart against the onrushing spacecraft in a rapidly building, nacreous glow. The glow turned sullen red, swiftly ascending through orange and yellow, then flaring back to white. The fire faded. With a crack, the aeroshell split open. Drogue parachutes streamed out behind the plummeting spacecraft, jerking it away from the charred remains of the heat shield before fluttering free. Jointed metal legs unfolded, a second set of parachutes blossomed, held, and fell away. Then with a final burst of rocket fire, Hope 2 came to a gentle stop on the surface of Laythe. Photovoltaic panels unfolded, trickle charging onboard batteries. The main antenna unfurled, swung round then tilted, aiming at a precise point in the sky above. Hope 2 sent a single burst transmission back to Kerbin and then fell silent. --------- “Oh for a lump of plutonium and the fins to cool it.” “Will you stop moaning about that Kerm blighted radioisotope generator,” snapped Jernie. “I know it was the sensible option - everyone knew it was the sensible option but we didn’t get a choice. As you know very well so would you please, for the love of little kerblets, just shut up!” She jabbed a finger at Sidbo. “And before you say it, yes they knew we were trying to save the world and yes ‘not scattering radioactive junk over our new home,” was a stupid excuse, but we just have to live with it.” She snorted. “Although I’d love to know what they thought we were going to do with the plutonium. Plate it over the heat shield presumably.” Sidbo squirmed in his chair. “Sorry, Jernie. No more complaining - promise.” Jernie sighed. “It’s not that I don’t agree with you, Sid. RTGs on the orbiters shouldn’t have been too much to ask for and might have given us enough juice for a proper telemetry feed from Hope 1. How are we supposed to fix things without data?” “Speaking of data,” Sidbo said cautiously, “the Jool spectroscopy was pretty spectacular. Looks like it’s even managed to stump Dunney.” “Hah. He’s not stumped, he’s ‘working through an interesting problem’. Or half-problem, given that he was predicting methane before we even launched.” “It has to be some kind of scattering effect,” said Sidbo. “Methane wouldn’t make it such an obvious green.” He drummed his fingers on the edge of his console. “Wonder if we could grab some spare computer time - put together a model of particle size against composition, try and figure out what’s in those clouds.” “In our spare time,” said Jernie dryly. “It’d probably be quicker just to launch another probe and take a closer look. I’ll let you figure out how to deal with the radiation though.” Her console bleeped. “Ahh - finally!” She frowned. “Strange - looks like we’ve got an image file too. There shouldn’t have been enough bandwidth for that and the atmospheric data.” “No, there shouldn’t,” said Sidbo. “Let’s have a look.” A black circle appeared on the main screen, fringed with a bright white ring. Sidbo stared at it, scratching his head. “Well that would compress down to a nothing, but what on Kerbin… oh you have to be joking? Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Jern?” Jernie banged her head gently on the edge of her console. “We send a probe Kerm knows how far for Kerm knows how long - and end up with a stuck lens cap.” “Maybe a couple of day-night cycles will shake it loose said Sidbo. “I don’t think we’re missing much though - this atmosphere is definitely no prize. Just look at that sulphur trace - and I’m pretty sure there’s chlorine in there too.” Jernie looked over his shoulder. “I’ll take your word for it,” she said. “Another fun problem for Dunney I’d say.” “He’ll have plenty of time,” Sidbo noted. “If we hadn’t already picked out Duna for Starseed, I’d be getting real depressed about now. I’ll work through this mess properly with Dunney but at the moment I’m thinking we can just file this one under ‘interesting puzzles’ and be done with it. << Chapter 62: Chapter 64>>

Or leave it out completely. References to Kool aid are generally used in the same vein as references to fanboys and adding a wink at the end doesn't help turn either of them into a joke. I've read the MCT Wikipedia page. It's almost entirely based on speculation, as acknowledged in the third paragraph: "As of early 2016, SpaceX has not publicly released details of the space mission architecture nor all the system components of the MCT, nor a timeline for earliest MCT missions to Mars." So if that's the best source we have to work with, then I think we can disregard comments on costs, launch rates, payload capacity or indeed pretty much anything else about MCT as being speculative at best and certainly not something to take seriously as a counterargument to anything. You may be right. Or it could just be that there's a long lead time on planetary exploration missions, which doesn't work too well with a launch vehicle that's been under constant development since its inception and for which the first iteration at least, would only have been capable of launching very modest interplanetary payloads. Besides, it's not as if ULA is immune to launch delays. They may be comparatively short compared to some SpaceX delays (you would hope so given the combined launch experience of ULA) but 'guaranteeing a successful launch' seems to be overselling things a little.

Is there any particular reason for starting your reply with an insult? Or did you think it would make a good first impression? To use a word that you're very fond of - source? Or is this just handwaving? Or the payload has it's own engines?

Ain't nobody wants a bruised kidney. I know how that feels - hope whatever did the kicking resolves itself soon!

So that was Rocketry 101. For your next lesson, we're gonna build something a little bigger.

Oh - that's something I hadn't thought about. Contamination of research tools.

Yep - and they're badly maintained and very poorly commented source codes, with chunks of code from completely different programs mixed up in there for good measure. Actually, the whole thing is more like an accumulation of more-or-less ingenious hacks stuck together with spaghetti code.

Whilst I'm not disagreeing PB666, gene drives are another thing you can do with CRISPR and I can understand Streetwind's alarm about those. From reading up on this a little, it seems that a CRISPR based gene drive would basically be a construct which includes the gene of interest plus the cas9 gene and guide RNA needed to insert it. You insert the entire package into the target genome (again using CRISPR) and end up with what's essentially a self-editing cell. If that cell is a germline cell then that self-editing capability can spread throughout the population. Sexual reproduction (what are the bets that gets edited out by the forum software) is required, hence the drive won't work for bacteria or viruses. I think. OK, it's just another gene editing tool and so can be used for whatever purposes we desire, benign or otherwise. But it's also a genetic tool that's deliberately designed to be replication competent, which means, in my opinion, that a long hard look at how we plan to use it is certainly warranted.

Well this is a story about the final front-ear after all... Sometimes the old ones are just old.

Excellent! Thank you - I'll give that a try.

OK, everyone remembers Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, right? And everyone remembers that bit at the start with the brain eating leech thing? This is the musical version. It's quite safe for work but watch for those seagulls...

FTFY. Depressing but true. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to add extra tinfoil to the edge of the world to stop NASA's fake moon beaming mind control rays at me.

Well, the end of an era is upon us. I didn't want to put this on the main farewell thread since that, rightfully, is all about HarvesteR but I still wanted to post my thanks somewhere for writing a computer game that inspired me to write a novel and this thread seemed as good a place as any. Best of luck with your future ventures, sir and may you have the strength to follow your course. Speaking of which, the next chapter has been somewhat squashed by a pair of back-to-back sixty hour weeks (if you count commuting in with working hours) but it's slowly taking shape. In the meantime, I can highly recommend @SCE2AUX2's tale of Kavy Kerlem if you've finished the latest twists in Whispers of the Kraken and are looking for some new KSP fiction to read!

I do like your writing style. The combination of KSP tropes (especially the flights being piloted manually all the way) played dead straight, complete with proper flight training, works really well. Also - which mod are you using for the launch tower? Looking at your screenshots makes me realize how much I miss the old tower. I know it was taken out for gameplay reasons but it does mean that launches lack that certain something.

Yeah but... Ninja Rockets!

I have a nasty feeling that you should probably edit that to 'better living pilot'. "After thinking for a moment, Gene's shoulders fell just a hair, "full disclosure, right? Well it's... complicated. The Rockomax Conglomerate has been our primary contractor ever since the pre-KSA days when J--" He seemed to choke on his breath for an instant, "...when... spaceflight first seemed possible. They've built nearly all our launch vehicles." "When... J--?" Valentina asked curiously." and: "As Valentina paused yet again trying to decode Ol' Sam's odd accent, a display on the wall behind him caught her eye. In a case of very thick glass, surrounded by more space-like memorabilia, was a pyramid of photographs of people she recognized. Sir Kerman was at the top, followed by Jorrigh and D.N., with more open spots on the next rows. Big block letters at the top spelled out 'WALL OF FAME,' but... who was that fellow above Sir Kerman? In the picture was a Kerbal with short-cropped hair that had begun to recede just a bit, bright, wondering eyes, and a beguiling smile holding a dated-looking pressure helmet." I think everyone's favourite thrillseeker is watching proceedings from the great Mission Control room in the sky in this story. And I'm not talking about a secret Ussari space station.

Not personally, although anyone that does certainly gets my respect! @ap0r started a thread about his engine a while back - that might be worth a look?

The book was pretty good too. A little slow to start but then I've read a couple of Apollo biographies and astronaut backgrounds were fairly similar at the time.

That would certainly make sense and it's a perfectly reasonable (if slightly depressing) premise for a game. However (in my opinion) it does make any claims to to the game discovering how space warfare would work, a bit hollow. Discover how space warfare works once you set things up specifically such that space warfare involves fleet combat. Admittedly I have a bias against that premise in any case, so I'm definitely not a neutral commentator here.

I thought super synchronous meant they were boosting the satellite to a higher than geostationary orbit to reduce the delta-v for plane changes. The satellite then takes care of circularisation and altitude adjustments? Gotta admit I was worried this would be another scrub but waaay happy to see another booster on a barge and even happier to see another payload going to the right orbit. That last part being the bit that pays the bills. Also, they're getting a lot smoother with the sub-cooled propellants - looks like that isn't such a problem after all, contrary to some much expressed opinions on this thread....

I don't really have a feel for how realistic this game is as a spacecraft combat simulator, although I do lean towards tater's point of view. However, as a space warfare simulation it seems rather contrived in that it's predicated on your enemy meekly allowing you to get all this wonderful hardware into space in the first place. Which sounds optimistic to me, to put it mildly. To quote a probably apocryphal phrase: amateurs talk tactics, professionals talk logistics. A large mothership with drones may be a wonderful fighting machine on orbit but if I can whack it with something fast, heavy or nuclear before it ever leaves the atmosphere, then I'm not going to care. I strongly suspect that orbital mechanical duels between spacecraft are only going to be an extremely small part of a space war, no matter how scientifically accurate.

I heard that the first Mug was simply a scooped out head (complete with helmet) of a very much ex-enemy. A particularly daring minion offered up the current, more portable version as a gift - and was later quietly disposed of as an unusually intelligent and potentially dangerous rival. To this day nobody has dared to comment on the highly polished, slightly off-white lining of the Mug...