KSK

That's not too far off my headcanon. In my version, the proto world government arose during the Age of Sail - the first major expansion era on Kerbin. There were... pressing reasons, for that expansion, which naturally led to conflict and the Council (led by one Jebediah Kerman ) was convened to stop the whole thing escalating any further. Kerbal economies are capitalist, but rather more restrained (or less dynamic depending on your point of view) than a typical Terran capitalist economy. For a variety of reasons there are very strong social and economic security nets in kerbal society and its a very unlucky or recalcitrant kerbal that can't access the very basics of civilised life (food, water, shelter, the company of other kerbals). Everything on top of that they have to work for, but when the basics are covered, money becomes less of an all-consuming imperative. Hence the kerbal labour market tends to be extremely flexible, which in turn tends to curb (heh) the worst excesses of capitalism. Any kerbal captain of industry who lays off half the workforce to pay for his/her yearly bonus, is likely to discover that a captain without a crew isn't going anywhere at all. The flip side of all this, is that kerbal society, tends to be rather conservative (with a small c) and bureaucratic. The government doesn't respond quickly to change, which can be a cause of frustration and tension between the Regionalities. They are at peace but it's an actively maintained peace, although nowhere near the level of a cold war. There's also a very strong spirit of volunteerism in kerbal society. Again, with the basics of life covered, a kerbal may decide to work on something for free simply because it looks fun. Which is essentially how their space program got started... Sumghai - I'd definitely be interested in reading the longer version of your headcanon! If anyone is interested in reading more about mine, my ongoing fanfic (link provided in my signature) goes into it all in more detail.

I always figured the exhaust pipe was for roll control as per the SpaceX Merlin engines. Makes sense to have it there but yeah - not very SSME.

Spot on. I've scaled the Kerbin-Mün system on our Earth-Moon system since the beginning, rather than deal with in-universe explanations for game scaled physics, but I guess this is the first chapter where the distances become obvious. 274,000 km is approximately correct as well (although the flight elapsed time is a bit of a guesstimate) given that Pioneer 1 is a couple of hours out from the Mün's SOI at the start of the chapter. Interestingly, when scaled to the Earth-Moon system, Minmus is only just within Kerbin's Hill Sphere and may be slightly outside it. Briansun1 - thanks! Sorry to leave you hanging with a teaser before, but I wanted to get that last bit of KIS background in before adding a summary to the cast list. Yukon0009 - I don't know what to say. Thank you very much.

Thanks! It was nine years (give or take) from first rocket to First Flight: Kerbal 1 to Pioneer - yeah I'm being deliberately vague about that. Partly because bits of the current story don't quite add up at the moment, although they can be fixed by tweaking the timeline a bit. I won't be retconning the current version but for personal satisfaction, I may go back over the whole story once I'm done and re-write where necessary. Mostly though, I'm reluctant to nail down the timeline for story reasons. 'Space-program-in-a-shed' is fun, and I've tried to make it vaguely plausible (once you've gotten over that initial suspension of disbelief anyway), but I think that fitting that part of the story to a particular timeline is inviting deeper scrutiny than it can really handle.

And here's the rest of it. Mün Flight Elapsed Time: 2 days, 6 hours, 22 minutes. 274,000 kilometres from Kerbin. On board Pioneer 1. Wernher tapped the gauge. "Secondary evaporators holding," he reported. "Coolant flow through main evaporator A stopped. Thanks, Flight - looks like that's fixed it." "Understood, Pioneer. Please give me a reserve coolant level check." “I'm seeing a 20 percent margin, Flight." In the couch beside him, Sherfel wiped her forehead and grinned. Over at the commander's station, James's face remained carefully impassive, but even in zero-gravity, the set of his shoulders told their own story. The drop in tension over the air to ground loop was palpable. "That's about what we're seeing too, Pioneer." Geneney paused, and Wernher heard a mutter of background conversation. "OK, team, the bad news is that CapSys isn't too happy about that leaked coolant." "And the good news, Flight?" said James quietly. "Is that the Systems team have just dropped the answer off at my console. It's a bit...homely - .but it should do the job. Wernher, I want you to head down into the lower bay and retrieve that roll of sealant tape. Jim, Sherf, we're going to need the covers from your checklists and a couple of empty ration packs - the cleaner the better." "On it, Flight." Wernher eased himself over the edge of his couch and swung himself gingerly into the space under the crew seating. Small and cramped back on Kerbin, the lower equipment bay felt much roomier in free fall. Wernher squeezed past the sanitation facility and twisted round to face the tool storage bin. Contents may have shifted in transit. Carefully, he slid it open, retrieved a roll of silvery tape, and just as carefully, slid it closed. "Got the tape, Flight." "Good. Pass it up to Sherf. CapSys is coming on loop to take her and Jim through the next part. In the meantime, I want you to unscrew the main hose from the sanitation bowl. Sherf - please confirm waste valves A and B are closed." Wernher heard shuffling overhead. "Closed, Flight." The sanitation facility was designed to be repairable in flight. Wernher braced himself awkwardly against the bulkhead and fumbled with the first of two large butterfly nuts securing the outflow hose to the bowl. Above his head he could hear ripping noises and the squeaky rasp of sealant tape peeling off its roll. Grunting with effort, he leaned on the nut as best he could, and felt it shift slightly in his hands. Must remember...to tell the capsule team... to grease these things before flight. Muttering under his breath, Wernher managed to loosen the first nut. The second one was more tractable. He spun it free, carefully leaving it on its bolt and easing the two halves of the locking clamp apart. He held his breath, and carefully pulled on the outflow hose. "Hose is free, Flight." "Good work. Now I need you to tape the nozzle to the open end." Sherfel popped her head over the edge of her couch and passed him the roll of tape and a creased cardboard cone with a ragged fringe of plastic bag poking from one end. "Tape the liner to the hose first, " she said, "Then push the nozzle over the top, and tape that on too." She watched Wernher tear off a length of tape. "Here - I'll do that if you stick our space-grade vacuum cleaner together." ----------- Wernher and Sherfel surveyed their handiwork with pride. "Couldn't have done better if we'd brought the parts with us, Flight," Sherfel said happily. "What's next?" "Stow the nozzle in the bowl and strap in for the ullage burns," said Geneney. "FD has the attitude numbers." Wernher nodded. "Good," he said. "Better than chasing the stuff all over the equipment bay." "That's what we thought," said Geneney, "We'll try and put it all in range of your hose too." Wernher waited until Sherfel was back in her own couch before pulling himself into his seat and strapping in. James glanced over at them, nodded, and took hold of the RCS controls. "Yaw then roll, Flight?" "That's affirmative, Jim. Yaw, negative-y translation pulse, roll, plus-z translation pulse." James crisply worked the controls. Wernher felt Pioneer 1 shift around him, nudged by the fleeting bursts of thrust. “Manoeuvre completed, Flight." Wernher was already unbuckling his harness. “Access panel one, Flight?" he asked. “Access panel one," said Geneney. Wernher twisted four restraining latches out of the way, and lifted a square metal panel from its frame in the bulkhead. Working slowly in the confined space, he slipped the panel between the panel and the sanitation bowl, and peered inside the maintenance compartment. Shimmering, oily globs of coolant quivered near the bulkhead, but as far as he could see, there weren't any other spills trapped in the maze of plumbing and wiring looms. The globs quivered, rainbows of refracted light scurrying over their translucent surfaces. “The ullage manoeuvre worked, Flight," he called. “Unstowing suction nozzle." He retrieved the hose and poked it cautiously towards the floating coolant. “Ready." Sherfel flipped a switch. “Waste valve A open," she reported. Wernher reached around the edge of the bulkhead, fingers probing for the waste disposal controls. The button slid into its housing with a firm clunk, followed by a whirr of fans starting up. The quivering mass of liquid trembled, stretched and ruptured into a shower of smaller globules which shot towards the makeshift suction nozzle. Most of them slipped neatly inside, others splashed off the surface, fracturing into yet smaller droplets. Patiently, Wernher chased them down, gently squeezing the cardboard cone to keep it open. The last rainbow droplet disappeared up the hose. Wernher waited for thirty seconds before switching off the fans. Instantly, Sherfel toggled both switches on her console. “Waste valve A closed. Venting through waste valve B." She glanced through the side window and was rewarded by the sight of a shower of silvery droplets streaming out from Pioneer 1. “Venting completed. Closing waste valve B." “Copy, Pioneer. Good work." Under the couches, Wernher was busy replacing the access panel and reconnecting the suction hose. He stowed the stained and oily cardboard nozzle safely away in a waste storage bin and pulled himself back into into his couch. “Pioneer 1, Flight. FD advises that you may want to check your velocity." All three kerbonauts automatically looked at the computer readout on the central control panel. Wernher's eyes shone. After two and half days of steady deceleration, Pioneer 1 was finally beginning its long fall towards the Mün. James smiled faintly. “We see it, Flight," he said. “What's our free return status?" “Free return is Go, Pioneer. Flight dynamics are running the numbers for platform realignment, star sighting checks and MOI. Guidance are prepping your burn data for midcourse correction two." “Understood, Flight. Standing by." ---------- The RCS valves thumped shut. James released the controls and keyed his microphone. “Flight, Pioneer 1. Midcourse two executed. Board is green." “Confirmed, Pioneer. Give us another ten for MOI burn data." Wernher glanced out of the rendezvous window above his head and abruptly stiffened. “Oh my," he said softly. Sherfel glanced at him curiously, eyebrows lifting as she followed his gaze. “Ohhh. Jim, pull your head out of that checklist for a moment and look." James looked up irritably. Then he caught a glimpse of blue out of the corner of his eye, and snapped his head round reflexively. His frown softened. “Doesn't look like much from out here, does it?" he said wonderingly. “Lonely, and terribly, terribly fragile," agreed Sherfel. She clicked her microphone on. “Flight, Pioneer 1. Be advised that we have a visual on you - and you're looking awfully pretty, but awfully lonely out there." “Say again, Pioneer?" “We've got Kerbin, Flight," said Sherfel quietly. “The whole planet framed in one rendezvous window." There was silence from Mission Control, then Geneney pulled himself together with an audible effort. “You might want to get a picture of that, Pioneer," he said, “I think everyone back here could use a reminder of what they're squabbling over." Sherfel sighed. “Still no news from the Twelve Pillars then?" she said. “Not since their appeal for calm," replied Geneney, “But that's not stopping every politician and pundit on Kerbin from weighing in with their opinion. The journalists are having a field day." “I can imagine," said Sherfel heavily, “Some heated opinions too, I bet." “Just a few," said Geneney dryly. “Although you'll be happy to know that KBS are running stories on three kerbals who are - and I quote - "a shining example of kerbalkind at its best, that should give us all confidence that we can overcome this greatest of challenges." " “Sounds like somebody is doing a decent job anyway," said James, "Who are they?" Geneney chuckled. “I'm talking to them right now," he said, “How does it feel to be a beacon of the kerbal spirit?" Wernher choked. James merely blinked. “Seriously?" he said. “Seriously," said Geneney, “I'm guessing Leland found a friendly ear somewhere because KBS are suddenly running a lot of stuff on the space program, and especially on you three." “The right stuff, I hope?" said Sherfel lightly. “Let's put it this way," said Geneney, “Until yesterday, I'd never seen Jeb blush before." “That takes some doing," laughed Wernher. “Hope somebody managed to record that, Flight." “We did," said Geneney, “as well as the 'Engines and Engineers' interview with Hanbal and Ornie." James's mouth twitched. He struggled for a moment and then burst out laughing too. “They managed to interview Hanbal?" “And they'll be interviewing him again if Ademone has any say in it," said Geneney. “Once somebody at KBS had the bright idea of putting him in front of a chalkboard, he stole the show! The interviewer got so caught up asking his own questions that he barely had time for his script." “Ademone had better hope the Institute doesn't try to lure him away from Rockomax," laughed Sherfel. “Funny you should say that," Geneney replied. “Jeb sent them a recording of the interview, marked 'lecturer training material'.“ He paused. “Anyway - back to business, team. I've got the platform realignment numbers from FD and then we have a service module engine to check over." ---------------- “Platform reference set for MOI. Attitude is green, SME is good." James glanced over at Wernher, who responded with a terse nod. “Copy, Flight. Burn program loaded, SAS to AUTO. Tank pressures nominal, all valve controllers drawing power." “We see them, Pioneer. Three minutes to loss of signal." “Confirm MOI at LOS plus twelve, Flight?" “That's confirmed, Pioneer. Ignition at FET six eight dot two zero dash one five." The three kerbonauts checked their instruments. Wernher wriggled his shoulders, trying to dislodge the droplets of cold sweat gathering at the base of his neck. He rolled his head to one side. “Hey - I've got nothing out here. No stars, just blackness!" “Copy that, Pioneer," Geneney said calmly, “Looks like you found the Mün. One minute to loss of signal, all systems Go." “Thanks, Flight." replied James, “We'll see you right back here in a couple of hours." “We'll hold you to that, Pioneer. Twenty seconds." Wernher clenched his jaw as Geneney counted down the last few seconds. He sensed Sherfel restlessly scanning the navigation panel beside him. “Three...two...one..." The air to ground loop faded into static. James switched off the radio. “Right on time," he said with satisfaction. “Twelve minutes to get squared away for Munar orbit insertion." Wernher fought to keep the impatience out of his voice as he read off the engine settings for the third time. He does have a point. We only get one go at this. Beside him, Sherfel checked and rechecked the navigation panel, fingers shaking on the keyboard. “Three minutes to ignition. Crew strapped in for burn?" “Navigation station ready." “Engineering station ready." At sixty seconds, a blue light started flashing on Sherfel's panel. She took a deep breath, held it, and pushed the PROCEED button. Beside her, James watched the mission clock intently, hand hovering over the manual ignition controls. The clock clicked over from nineteen to twenty minutes. "Fifteen seconds." “Ten seconds." “Five...four...three...two..." “One." The service module engine lit. Pioneer 1 shuddered briefly and Wernher glanced nervously at the engine displays. James lifted his hand carefully away from the manual controls, slowly and deliberately resting it on the side of his couch. “Forty seconds in. How are we looking, Wernher?" “Looking OK. Tank pressures holding, helium drop is on the curve." “Not getting any more shaking anyway," said Sherfel. “No," said James, “Gimbal settings from the ground weren't quite right is all. Nothing the computer couldn't handle. Two minutes in." “Two?" said Wernher. “Feels like double that." “Longest two minutes of my life," said Sherfel. She grunted. “Heaviest too." “Only point three two gee," said James. “Three minutes in." Pioneer 1 soared into the Munar dawn, engine bell glowing a baleful red in the vacuum. Grey light spilled through the capsule windows, adding a ghostly overlay to the cabin lights. Wernher kept his eyes firmly on the engine readouts. “Minor fluctuations in helium pressure. Propellant levels good." James reached for the engine shutdown button. “Thirty seconds to go. Twenty..." Three pairs of eyes watched the mission clock tick upwards. “Three...two...one..." “Shutdown!" Sherfel's fingers raced over her computer keyboard. “Delta-v within predicted limits." A broad smile lit up her face. "and we have a periapsis! Two two five by one six two!" James blew out his cheeks. “Made it," he murmured, “we actually made it." He shook his head. “Time to safe the SME, then we can take a look outside." He smiled. “Our good flight director has given us the traditional KIS sightseeing orbit, but after that we've got a lot of photography to fit in." --------------- Pioneer 1 drifted serenely along its calculated path, a tiny, twinkling outpost flying over the slate grey plains and shadowed craters of the Mün. It's wide eyed crew pressed up against the spacecraft windows, gaping at a vista both familiar and utterly alien. Viewed from low orbit, Kerbin's ancient satellite was pockmarked with thousands upon thousands of craters; from barely visible cosmic pinpricks, to colossal scars gouged out of the surface and surrounded by great rays of ejecta blasted out from deep within the Munar crust. The landscape was brutally sharp, with no atmosphere to wear down the mountains, blunt the crater rims, or shroud them both behind a blurred veil of gases. Suddenly the unrelenting grey horizon was broken by a glimmer of azure light. A small blue-green marble climbed into the sky, a radiant jewel hanging in the infinite midnight. Girt with snowy white clouds and cloaked in soft, diffuse sunlight, Kerbin slowly rose above the Munar mountains. Click...click...click...click... Geneney sat helplessly at the flight director's console. The flight dynamics team were gathered around Lucan's console studying the data from the abandoned Kerbin departure stage. The other controllers stared at blank displays or screens full of static. The main tracking screen showed a stylised image of the Mün, sitting in one loop of a dotted figure-eight. Jeb paced up and down behind him, alternately staring at his boots and scowling at the mission clock. At the back of the control room, Leland tapped his microphone, the faint clicking of fingernail on steel a tinny counterpoint to Jeb’s footsteps. Don fiddled half-heartedly with his camera, his gaze also fixed on the mission clock. A muttered word from Lucan sent the rest of his team back to their console. He pulled on his headphones, his microphone picking up the faint rasp of the headset rubbing against his scalp, and broadcasting it throughout the room. “Flight, FD." “Go ahead, FD." “Five minutes to prime reacquisition, Flight." “Copy, FD." Geneney picked up his coffee cup, and promptly set it down again. Empty. Just like the last time I tried. Leland noticed his fidgeting, put two and two together, and handed his microphone to Don. He disappeared into the Press Room, returning with a steaming mug of thick, elderly coffee. Noses twitched around the room, as he carried the mug over to the flight director's console, and set it down within easy reach. Geneney gave him a grateful thumbs up and turned his attention back to the screens. “One minute to prime, Flight." “Thank you, FD." The seconds trickled away. Then every console in Mission Control lit up amidst a clamour of voices. “Flight, FD. We have telemetry!" “CapSys here - they're back, Flight!" “...best view from Wernher's window. Can you roll..?" “This is Propulsion - receiving engine status!" “Kerm but that's pretty! One for Jeb's wall..." “Flight, Pioneer. We're getting a lot of comm noise here." Geneney leapt to his feet and punched the air. Unnoticed, his headset cord ripped free of the console, flapping around his neck like a high tech cravat. He grabbed his mug and hoisted it in a toast to the flight controllers, an ear-to-ear smile lighting up his face. A huge cheer went up as Jeb bounded forward and pulled the flight director into a great bear hug. Aboard Pioneer 1, a series of pops and crackles echoed across the air to ground loop, followed by Geneney's cheerful tones. “Pioneer 1, Flight. Welcome back guys - how does the Mün look from up there?" “Big, grey, and beautiful, Flight," Sherfel called out. “Especially with old Kerbin on the horizon over there!" “Wish I could see that, Pioneer!" “Wernher's taking the holiday snaps as we speak. We'll make sure to keep one for you!" “Better make that two - Jeb's already jabbering on about his office wall." Sherfel grinned. “Copy that, Flight." “Make that three, Pioneer - KBS are looking excited too." “I'm pretty sure we can get a couple more on the next orbit," said James dryly. “Flight - what's our SME status?" “Propulsion team are looking over your telemetry as we speak, James," answered Geneney. “Flight dynamics are checking your TKI update - we'll send you the comparison data once we have it." “Any updates to MOI-2?" “Negative. We're still aiming for circularisation on orbit three. The rest of the flight plan is unchanged: press interview on orbit two, photo-reconnaissance on orbits three through five, including plane shifts, TKI on orbit six." “Understood, Flight. Tell KBS we're sorry about the TV camera." “Not your fault, Pioneer. We'll have a look at it once you get home." ------------ After the first leisurely orbit of the Mün, the Pioneer 1 crew settled into a steady routine of monitoring the capsule systems, surface observations, and photography. Looking back on their journey, Wernher would remember their one meal break as 'the most surreal picnic of my life', bobbing against the capsule window, ration pack in one hand, staring out at the Munar surface. James would talk about the relief of completing every orbit with a systems check from Mission Control. Sherfel's lasting memory was of the Far Side. On one side of the Mün, three kerbals in their own tiny world. On the other, and hundreds of thousands of kilometres away, everything and everyone else that she'd ever known. But all of them spoke of the engine. As Wernher would put it many years later. “None of us ever mentioned it on the flight. Me least of all - I mean, I designed the thing, and helped to build it. What could I say after that? Besides, there wasn't any point - if it fired, it fired. If it didn't, we had our backup options, and if they failed too, then that was it. I don't think that stopped us thinking about it though, and I know I was always pretty relieved to get a good telemetry check from Gene on each orbit. I guess I don't need to say that I was even more relieved when we didn't need the backup options on orbit six." ------------------ James squeezed the last of the creva stew out of his ration pack and chewed it thoughtfully. He glanced at the comms panel, checking that the air to ground loop with Mission Control was switched off, then turned to face his crew. “Wernher," he said at last. “Now that we've finally got some downtime, perhaps you could answer a question for me?" Wernher looked at him quizzically. “I can try," he replied. “What is it?" “TMI," said James slowly, “I saw your face when Jeb came on-loop - it looked like you were expecting it?" Wernher shrugged. “I wasn't told either," he said, “but Jeb's been working towards this flight since he was a student at the Institute. If he wasn't up here himself, not a single kerbal in the KIS would have begrudged him the flight director's seat, Gene least of all." Sherfel blinked. “How old is Jeb?" she asked. “He was nearly nine years out of the Institute when we launched the Kerbal 1," Wernher said quietly, “and that wasn't yesterday." For the first time that Wernher could remember, James looked genuinely impressed. “That's a long time," he said softly. “And when his dream flight came up, he still didn't pull the boss slot." “No," said Wernher. “We would have given it to him, but Jeb's always been scrupulous about fair crew selection. You wouldn't have guessed it from my tutorial group, but he's grown up to be one hell of a leader. I doubt anybody else could have kept us going long enough to see the Kerbal 1 fly." “You were Jeb's tutor?" exclaimed Sherfel. Wernher nodded. “And supervisor for his final year project." Sherfel caught the shift in his voice. “Sounds like there's a story there," she said, checking the flight clock. “And we've got a couple of hours before the next systems check. I could use something to pass the time." -------------- The canteen doors swung shut. Wernher looked curiously at Jeb Kerman, sitting alone at a nearby table, prodding an unappetising mush of tubers, beans and greens around his plate. He walked over and sat down by the younger kerbal. “Mind if I join you, Jeb?" Jeb laughed hollowly, “Sure. There might even be some stew left if you're unlucky." Wernher's face fell as he took in the empty canteen. “Oh well,“ he said, “Looks like sandwiches again. Anyhow - what's up, Jeb? Not like you to be sitting here on your own." Jeb looked moodily at his tutor. “Final year project." he said briefly, “Still can't think of anything to do." “I thought you were helping Bill with his stability augmentation system?" said Wernher. “Yeah, I thought about that," said Jeb, “but I want to build something, Wernher. Not a mockup for a wind tunnel, not a chunk of circuitry to plug into a test sim. I want to take something outside and see it fly." “Ahh," said Wernher carefully, “I think I see the problem." Jeb pushed his plate away. “Yeah. I don't think a hobby shop plane is really going to cut it. What about you, Wernher? How are the jet intakes working?" Wernher glanced around surreptitiously. “Variable geometry pre-cooling intakes," he said absently, "Theory looks sound, if I can build a light enough heat exchanger." He looked at Jeb thoughtfully. “I've been working on a side project though." He got to his feet. “C'mon. I think you need to see this." The two kerbals crossed the main quadrangle of the Kerbin Aeronautical Research Institute and headed for the large blocky building of the Jet Propulsion Department. As they walked, Jeb tried to keep up with Wernher's muttered monologue. “So anyway, I figured that if you can't get enough air through the intake at that altitude, then why not store it onboard. Or if not air, then something that would do the same job. Then I realised that you could power the whole aircraft like that - and with a much simpler engine. Just a pair of turbo-pumps, a combustion chamber and a nozzle really, although getting the details right was tricky. I thought about solids for a bit but they're not very controllable." Jeb choked. “You seriously thought about propelling an aircraft with fireworks?" he spluttered. Wernher looked around frantically. “Shhhhh," he whispered, “Yes, fireworks basically, but a bit more refined." He pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked the side door to the JPD. They hurried down the corridor to Wernher's workshop. “What's all this whispering and secrecy for?" asked Jeb. Wernher gave him a sidelong look. “Well partly it's because I'm not really ready to show this to anyone yet," he said, “but also, I've ummm borrowed one or two things from the lab to build the D1." “D1?" said Jeb. “Demo 1," said Wernher, stuffing equipment into two large bags. Jeb spotted a pair of gas cylinders and what looked like a tripod stand. “Not a very original name I admit, but nice and anonymous. OK, that's everything - let's go!" “Wernher - what on Kerbin is wrong with the Institute test range?" “I told you, Jeb - I'm not ready to show this to anyone yet. You're only getting a sneak peek because you were looking so damn miserable in the canteen. Right - here we are." Jeb wiped the sweat from his forehead. The Institute buildings were safely out of sight, hidden by the hillside and a small copse of trees. The ground underfoot was hard packed and rocky and Wernher was having trouble setting up his tripod. “Ooof, OK that's far enough. Test rig next." Jeb looked at the spindly contraption. “Hold on." he said slowly. “Isn't that..." “Borrowed!" said Wernher, “And I haven't done anything to it. Well, nothing that I can't undo anyway. Right - propellant tanks next." He hung the gas cylinders on the makeshift test stand. Jeb raised his eyebrows as he recognised the name of a well known brand of camping gas stencilled on the side of one of them. “Stove gas, Wernher?" “Yes, yes, stove gas and nitrous oxide. OK, propellant lines are secure, just need to plug in the control box..." Jeb eyed the finished article skeptically. The D1 seemed to consist of an oddly shaped nozzle attached to a metal ball which was studded with bits and pieces of equipment. Two thin hoses connected the ball to the gas cylinders, and the whole unlikely contrivance hung from the tripod on a rather expensive set of strain gauges. Cables trailed from various points into the control box in Wernher's hands. “Are you sure about this, Wernher?" “Perfectly sure. Here we go." Jeb glanced around for the nearest rock to hide behind as Wernher started mumbling to himself. “Valves open...gas generator on..." A small flame appeared at the tip of a tube. “Pumps spinning up - and ignition!" Jeb heard a sharp metallic clicking from the depths of Wernher's contraption, jumping backwards as a gust of flame shot out of the nozzle with a whump of exploding gas. With a steadily building roar, the gust quickly focused into a bright blue flame. Jeb laughed. “It even sounds like a camping stove, Wernher." Wernher's only response was to point at the strain gauge assembly. Jeb leaned gingerly forward. Hey - not bad." Then a thought struck him. “Wernher - you designed this for high altitude flight right? How high is high exactly?" Wernher shrugged. “Whatever you like, provided there's still enough air for the wings." “What about a vacuum?" Jeb raised his hand. “Yeah, yeah, can't fly in a vacuum I know, but the engine should still work right?" “It should work better in a vacuum," said Wernher slowly. “but why a.... oh you can't be serious, Jeb?" Jeb's eyes gleamed. “Oh yes I can, Wernher. I think we need to give your camping stove a new name and I'm thinking that LV-1 has a nice ring to it." “LV-1?" “Launch Vehicle One, Wernher. Launch. Vehicle. One!" --------------- Wernher unclipped his water bottle and took a long drink. “And that's how it all started," he said. “By the time Jeb finished his final year project, he'd already founded the Kerbin Interplanetary Society and started work on a new LV-2 engine. He even put together a relatively conservative research proposal - complete with a raft of anticipated benefits for other Institute research programs - for a sounding rocket based on it. Unfortunately, the KIS also had a tendency to be... vocal about critics of our spaceflight ambitions, which the Institute rather took exception to. Eventually of course, we were kicked out for wasting Institute time and resources on “overgrown toys and ridiculous flights of fancy." ' “But you kept going?" said Sherfel quietly. “We did," said Wernher. “We pooled all our money to start up the junkyard business, partly to fund our experiments, and partly to get hold of some parts and raw materials." He grinned. “Once we were established, Geneney had the bright idea of bidding on the Institute's recycling contract. I'm sure at least one of the senior professors was highly amused to see us reduced to hauling Institute scrap, but most of our best early stock - including our first pressure suits - was basically recovered from Institute dumpsters." James shook his head. “And you managed to build a crewed sub-orbital spacecraft out of it." “It took a lot longer than we expected," said Wernher ruefully. “Not surprising really, given what we had to work with. But we made it. The Kerbal 1 flight was a success, Bill had the presence of mind to take his camera, and the rest you know about." He rolled his shoulders. “Anyway, enough storytelling - we should probably check in with Mission Control." ------------ “You're flying straight through the window, Pioneer. Good luck." “Thank you, Flight. Hope the service module is flying through a different one." “That's confirmed, Pioneer. No need to check your mirrors." Pioneer 1 sped towards Kerbin. The booster stages which had lofted it into orbit almost seven days ago were long since gone, as was the Kerbin departure stage which had launched it towards the Mün. Now, shorn of its service module too, kerbalkind's first ever Münship was reduced to its barest essence - a small conical capsule and its three crew. Inside, Wernher stared back at the thin sliver of Mün still visible through the rendezvous window, the steadily increasing glow from Kerbin's atmosphere making it harder and harder to see. Odd colour though, I expected it to be bluer somehow. Sherfel's urgent voice broke into his thoughts. “Jim - we're getting plasma!" “Already?" James looked up from his instruments. “Kerm! Way earlier than normal. Hang on to your seats - this could get rough!" The glow intensified. A faint, high pitched scream at the edge of hearing, scraped across Wernher’s nerves. Pioneer 1 plunged onwards, carving a luminous tunnel through the first wispy traces of Kerbin's atmosphere. The capsule creaked and rattled, the contents of various storage lockers shifting under the building g-forces. Outside, the glowing plasma started to take on a yellowy orange tint. Wernher grunted at the unaccustomed pressure pressing him into his couch. Oof - only point two gee. Remember the centrifuge, Wernher - remember the centrifuge! After nearly a week in serene silence, the roar of capsule slamming into atmosphere was painfully loud. Wernher narrowed his eyes and focused on his breathing, shock-heated air casting a ruddy orange glare over the capsule interior. The capsule itself twisted and turned in a precise, computer controlled ballet, lifting slightly to ease the forces crushing the kerbonauts into their couches, then dipping back into the rapidly thickening air. Flames shot past the window, riven with incandescent flakes and chunks of burning heat shield. James glanced at them uneasily. Hope those aren't as big as they look. Cold sweat pooled under his arms. Hope they don't look that big for Tommal either. The capsule shook, blurring his view of the instrument panel, and the angry hiss of static filled his ears. The reentry fires began to recede, fading to a dull orange, shot through with occasional bursts of flame. Wernher watched the altimeter unwinding at tremendous speed as Pioneer 1 plummeted through the sky. The static in his ears began to fade, replaced by James's voice. “Flight, Pioneer 1. Come in, Flight." “Flight, Pioneer 1. Come in, Flight." Wernher's headphones crackled, broken snatches of words chasing their way through the static, accompanied by what sounded like distant cheering. “Flight, Pioneer 1. Come in, Flight." “Pioneer 1, Flight! We're reading you loud and we're reading you clear!" “Thank Kerm for that. Standing by for drogues." With a loud crack, the altimeter slowed its frantic spinning, the capsule twisting slowly from side to side. Then a heavy thump signalled the release of the main chutes. Pioneer 1 jerked and swayed, slowing to a graceful descent as the parachutes unfurled. A huge, unabashed smile of relief spread over Wernher's face at the familiar, but never more welcome, announcement from Mission Control. “Flight, Pioneer 1. We read you on the mains. Welcome home!" << Chapter 43: Chapter 45>>

A Voyage for the Ages Apart from the last minute furore, thought Wernher, the launch preparations had been surprisingly similar to Kerbal 2. The lines of KIS members outside the warehouse to see them off; the ride to the Space Centre in Ornie's truck; climbing onto the back of the truck out of sight of the crowds; waving to those same crowds as they drove past the stands and out to the launch pad. And here I am again, standing on the gantry outside a three kerbal capsule, waiting for Bob to give the word. He stared down over the gantry rail at Pioneer 1's gleaming white flanks, which as usual were resplendent with sponsor's logos. From this height, only the chunky blue R and stylised silver engine nozzle of Rockomax's new logo were visible, proudly emblazoned on each lateral booster. The remaining letters and the tail end of their “Think Better - Think Bigger!" slogan were hidden by perspective and distance. Far below that the engines waited. In the distance, the Space Centre buildings stood silhouetted against the cloudless morning sky. Sunlight twinkled off the corrugated steel cladding of the Vehicle Assembly Building, squat and blocky at the end of the newly laid strip of asphalt linking it to the launch pad. The pad itself was deathly silent. By now, most of the engineers were safely ensconced within the launch bunker, and even the flocks of birds that usually made the gantries their home were nowhere to be seen, or heard. I wonder if they know something I don't. The ring of work boots on steel brought him back to the present, as Bob climbed out of the hatch and joined him by the rail. The rest of the pad team stood back at a respectful distance. For a moment the two friends gazed silently across the deserted launch site. Bob cleared his throat, “Wernher?" Wernher gestured at the nose cone far beneath them. “There are three LV-T20s down there, Bob. The breakthrough that launched Jeb into orbit and we'll be discarding them less than three minutes into the flight." The chief engineer stared down at the distant launch pad. “You know the LV-T30 is more powerful than the entire Moho stack?" Bob nodded patiently. “And Pioneer needs three of them just to get off the ground. I know, Wernher." He grinned at a sudden memory, “I'd rather be sitting on top of three LV-T30s than one LV-15 and a pile of Trashcans though." Wernher snorted. “Indeed." He shook his head. “Dear Kerm - what were we thinking? Putting you, Bill, and Jeb inside that contraption." Bob squeezed his shoulder. “Or you, Lucan, and Gene, for that matter." He tapped his headset. “Jim and Sherf are all set, Wernher. Time to go join them." Wernher nodded resolutely, handed his spacesuit helmet to Bob, and strode over to the open hatch. Gripping the hand rails tightly, he swung himself down into the capsule, manoeuvring his bulky spacesuit through the narrow gap. Sherfel grinned at him through her transparent helmet. James turned his head, nodded briefly, then turned his attention back to the instrument panel. As soon as he'd settled into his acceleration couch, Bob climbed into the capsule after him. Wernher watched him work, quietly shifting from side to side in his seat to let him reach all the assorted ports, plugs and sockets of the life-support and communication systems. He grunted as Bob tightened the couch harness, checking that the straps were all lying flat. Satisfied, Bob lifted Wernher's helmet into place, and locked it in place against the neck ring of his suit. He rapped on the transparent bubble for luck, flashed Wernher a quick grin, and plugged his headset into the auxiliary comms port on the side of capsule instrument panel. “You're looking good, folks. Wave at the Mün for me, and we'll see you all back here next week." “We'll write you a postcard, Bob," said Sherfel cheerfully, “Can't guarantee it'll get to you before we get home though." Bob laughed. “Sending it Pioneer class will be fine," he said, “I'm closing the hatch now. Good luck." The hatch swung shut and locked with a clunk. Wernher switched his headset on and surveyed the the profusion of switches, buttons, dials and other readouts laid out in front of him. Defining a logical structure and arrangement for the myriad controls had been the hardest part of designing the Eve capsule that Pioneer was based on. Even so, Wernher thought, the pilots and the capsule systems team managed to hammer out the basic layout remarkably quickly. Another point in favour of Jeb's management style. He stretched his legs out, nodding in satisfaction as his boots hit the capsule bulkhead. Good legroom. Compared to Kerbal 2 at any rate. A sudden draft from the capsule fans riffled the pages of his checklist book, as the environmental systems kicked in, purging the cabin atmosphere and replacing it with a flight ready, oxygen-nitrogen mix. He clicked his microphone on. “Flight, Pioneer 1. Purge complete, atmosphere composition is good. Monitoring capsule pressure." Gene's voice was as matter-of-fact as always. “Copy, Wernher. CapSys reports clean contact on all hatch bolts - please confirm." Wernher's eyes flicked to the hatch and back to the control panel. “Confirmed, Flight." “Thanks, Wernher. Sherfel, please go to Loop Two and give me a Go/No-Go on the SAS and guidance platform." At the commander's station, set after set of warning lights flashed up on James's indicator panel. Wernher saw his lips moving behind his bubble helmet as he paged through his checklist. The main air to ground loop cut in with a burst of static. “Advisory panels one through three are good, Flight. Standing by for pre-staging and abort-to-orbit checks." “Understood, Pioneer," Geneney replied. “Wernher, please go to Loop Three, and confirm engine telemetry status. CapSys is on-loop." “Copy, Flight." Bob's voice broke in over the main loop. “Capsule pressure is Go, Flight. Pad team proceeding with boost cover closure." “Thank you, Pad Team." Page by page, the Pioneer 1 commander and navigator worked though their checklists, whilst Wernher monitored the booster status indicators. The capsule was quiet, his acceleration couch had moulded itself comfortably around his suit, and the droning fans of the environmental system were almost soporific. Wernher shook his head sharply, hoping that Sherfel and James hadn't seen him. I'm sure Jeb would be highly amused if I fell asleep atop of a fully fuelled Mün rocket, but I doubt that my two colleagues here would be too impressed. Nor Gene for that matter. “Pioneer 1, Flight. CapSys says we're Go for the reentry battery test." Wernher sighed inwardly at the undercurrent of dry amusement in Gene's voice. The joy of suits with medical sensors. “Understood, Flight," he replied. “Buses A and B transferred to batteries. Ready for external power off." The fans stuttered, and the capsule lighting flickered briefly before settling down again. Wernher scanned his system readouts - beside him, James and Sherfel checked their own sections of the control panel. All three kerbonauts reported a successful test. “We see it too, Pioneer. Reconnecting external power. Guidance is ready for the SME gimbal test." Wernher flipped a pair of switches, disconnecting the reentry batteries from the capsule power systems, turned to the Service Module Engine panel and threw another set of switches. “Gimbal motors drawing power. Confirm hand controllers to TEST?" James gripped the two controllers. “Controllers to TEST, SAS override ON." He carefully tested their range of movement, watching his nav-ball tilt and roll in response. After each deflection, he waited whilst Pioneer 1's onboard computer attempted to re-centre the gimbals. “Yaw gimbal tracking confirmed...pitch tracking is good...roll tracking confirmed." “Copy, Pioneer," said Geneney. “OK guys, break until KDS confirmation from Foxham. Moving gantry systems to standby and holding countdown at T minus thirty minutes." --------------- Geneney drummed his fingers on the edge of his console, willing the phone to ring. Around him, fidgeting flight controllers flicked through logbooks and swung back and forth on their chairs, sneaking surreptitious glances at his console. The open communication loop to Pioneer 1 filled the room with a faint hiss of static, the crew as quiet as their controllers. Above their heads, the countdown clock was poised at T minus thirty minutes. A controller coughed. Geneney paged his headset from one loop to the next, eventually settling on the public link from the KBS commentary box. Leland was busy running through the countdown, explaining the current hold to the crowds in the stands and, Geneney noted, describing the Rockomax payload as a docking target.We did a good job keeping this flight quiet but Leland is pretty sharp. Maybe he's just playing along. He clicked his headset back onto the air-to-ground loop. Still nothing from the capsule unless you count heavy breathing. He switched over to the Life Support console. “Life Support, Flight. Everything OK in there, Ribory?" “They're fine, Flight. Picking up elevated heartbeat readings for Wernher - nothing serious - but the other two could be tucked up in bed." “Yeah, Jim and Sherf are pretty level headed. Keep an eye on Wernher though - he'll be fretting about his engines. Thanks, Ribory." “No problem, Flight." A shrill jangle jerked everyone's attention back to their consoles. Heart hammering, Geneney picked up the phone. “Barkton Control. Gene here. Yes, we wondered what the delay was. No open tickets now, though? Understood - we'll hold until then and pick up our countdown at T minus thirty. Thanks, Nelton - Barkton Control out." He raised his voice above the sudden babble from the consoles. “We're up, people! Flight Dynamics, Guidance, you're on Loop 2 - lets get that trajectory data updated! Booster, give me a fuelling status! CapSys, we'll be picking up RCS and SME pressurisation in twenty two minutes!" Geneney clicked his microphone on. “Pioneer 1, Flight." He paused. “KDS-1 is on orbit, and waiting for a driver. We're Go for countdown restart at T minus thirty." At the life support console, Ribory watched Wernher's pulse rate jump. -------------- “RCS and SME pressurisation confirmed, Flight!" Wernher called. “Bringing service module batteries online." “Copy that, Pioneer. APU disconnect, Go." Wernher scanned his instruments and glanced up at James and Sherfel. Both nodded. “Looking good, Flight. Capsule on internal power." “Copy, Pioneer. Pad Team, are you clear?" “Clear, Flight. Gantry systems at launch positions." “Understood, Pad Team. Flight Team, status report please. FD?" Lucan's voice caught in his throat.“We're Go, Flight." “Guidance?" “Go, Flight!" “Booster?" “Ready, Flight!" Aboard Pioneer 1, Wernher's blood pounded in his ears. Sherfel lifted both hands from her couch, palms facing out. Wernher and James slapped their gloves into hers. “Spacecraft?" “GO!" Now, even Geneney's voice was on edge. “Booster on internal power. First stage gimbals, Go. Primary and backup controllers, Go. Clear for engine start." Wernher's eyes were fixed on the engine readout panel. He nodded tersely as the final status reports came over the air, thoughts racing over the engine schematics, trying to remember the slightest problem during manufacture. “Sixty seconds, Pioneer. Guidance is internal. Auto-sequencer, Go." Ludicrously, it occurred to Wernher that none of them had sent a launch message for the crowd. Leland will take care of it. He's heard enough of them by now. “Forty seconds, Pioneer. Go for launch." “T minus thirty." Wernher swallowed hard, sweat beading on his brow. “T minus twenty." His mind was back at the main test stand, LV-T30 fixed in place, a complex assembly of pipes, valves and turbo-pumps that suddenly seemed far too fragile for what was about to be asked of them. “T minus twelve...eleven...ten...nine...eight..." Ignition sequence starts. “Six...five...four..." The six first stage engines lit with an earsplitting roar, almost drowning out Geneney's voice. Green lights flicked on across the control panel, the entire rocket shaking with barely leashed fury. “Two...one...and Liftoff! All engines running!" “Clock started!" “Tower clear!" The engines thundered out a throbbing two tone disharmony; the deep bellow of the LV-T30s beating against the higher pitched bass growl of the smaller LV-T20s. Inside the capsule, Wernher lay flat on his back, swaddled in a discordant, shrieking cocoon of sound. Now this is what I call a rocket ship! His head sank back into his acceleration couch, eyes still level with the control panel, which was reassuringly free of warning lights, despite the shaking. And I can still see the instruments. Above his head something began to rattle. The broad grin on his face slipped a notch and he reflexively searched the capsule for loose equipment. Then the engine noise abruptly shifted pitch, before everything went suddenly quiet. James's unperturbed voice filled his ears. "Flight, Pioneer 1. Vehicle is supersonic, lateral boosters throttled back." "Copy, Pioneer. We read you through max Q. Guidance is green, pitch and roll is Go." Wernher heard the couch frame creak and grunted under the growing weight on his chest, squinting at the blurred displays on the vibrating instrument panel. The flight clock clicked past the two minute mark, and he slowly lifted one arm, fighting to hold it steady against the g forces, finger aimed at the LB-JETT button. "Decouplers A through C armed. Go for T20 shutdown and detach." The LV-T20s flamed out. Wernher's stomach lurched as the sudden drop in acceleration flung him against his harness. Three lights blinked out in front of him, a curiously muffled bang marking the departure of the lateral boosters. Relieved, Wernher let his arm drop back onto his couch. The capsule was still shaking but now the vibrations were smoother, a deep seated, soothing rumble replacing than the bone jarring discord of launch. A distant part of his mind noticed that the mysterious rattling hadn't returned, and was glad. The velocity and altitude displays on the instrument panel raced upwards. Wernher felt his weight shift, harness straps pulling on his shoulders as Pioneer 1 gradually heeled over along its pre-programmed flight path. Then his heart soared at the sudden announcement from Mission Control. "Thirty-six kilometres. Pioneer 1 - your trajectory and guidance are Go!" If James was surprised at the unexpected altitude check, it didn't show in his voice. "Flight, Pioneer 1. Go, at thirty-six kilometres." Out of the corner of her eye, Sherfel saw Wernher's head jerk upwards. She glanced at him and smiled at his exultant expression. Shadows slowly drifted over the Kerbal 2as it coasted onwards, lit from beneath by the bright glow of Kerbin's atmosphere. It rocked slightly as it reached the top of its thirty-five kilometre high arc and started the long descent. Wernher could hear a gradually increasing thrumming noise from outside the capsule as it dropped back into thicker air. “Not today we don't" Wernher snapped out of his reverie thankful that neither the rest of the crew, nor Mission Control chose to comment on his outburst. Flushing, he checked the instrument panel, nodding in satisfaction as he keyed his microphone. "Flight, Pioneer 1. Tank pressures nominal, upper stage chilldown started." "Copy, Pioneer. Decoupler D armed. Go, for staging." The main engines shut down, sending waves of flame rolling up the booster. Seconds later, the spent first stage and interstage detached and tumbled slowly away. "Second stage ignition confirmed!" Pioneer 1 exploded out of the fire, accelerating hard on its way to orbit. --------------------- "KDS-1 acquired. Range five-zero dot two kilometres and closing. Requesting braking burn check." Heart still pounding with adrenalin, Wernher forced himself to breath in through his nose. Raw, unfiltered sunlight washed through the capsule side window and over the legs of his spacesuit. The view through the smaller rendezvous window above his head was a uniform inky black, and for a moment he wished he was in James's seat and able to snatch a glimpse of Kerbin outside. Experimentally, he lifted his arm and grinned in delight as it hung effortlessly in front of him. "Good burn, Pioneer. Go for plane alignment at FET five four dot three zero." Wernher glanced at the flight clock, currently showing a flight elapsed time of just over eighteen minutes. Solenoids thumped open and the sunlight drifted slowly over his legs as James manoeuvred Pioneer 1 into position. Plane matching on the first orbit. These guys aren't just good in a simulator. Suits me - the quicker we hook up with the departure stage the better. Pioneer 1's thrusters spat a long burst of fire, tilting it's orbital plane by a tiny fraction. Shorter bursts of flame tipped it back over, pointing its nose along its direction of flight and aiming it squarely at a shining point of light in the distance. The point drifted closer, first becoming a disc and then gradually resolving itself into a slender, gleaming tube. Pioneer 1 slowed, thrusters flickering as they delicately edged the capsule into position. “Pioneer 1, Flight. Go for docking." James nudged his hand controllers. Outside the window, the immense silver tube drifted towards them. There was a faint bump, followed by the staccato rattle of docking clamps slamming shut. Readouts lit up across the instrument panel and James sighed with relief. “Flight, Pioneer 1. Hard dock and connection to KDS systems confirmed." He toggled his headset to their private communication loop. “OK, we've got two orbits in our TMI window. Plenty of time, so lets take it steady and do this right first time." Sherfel nodded, fingers tapping away at the flight computer keyboard. Wernher grunted in reply, already busy at the engineering station. Satisfied, James turned to his own section of the instrument panel and flipped his checklist over to the next page. -------------- Wernher looked up from his instruments and glanced at his fellow crew members. Sherfel stared straight ahead through the rendezvous windows. James glanced back at him and nodded fractionally. For a moment, there was silence, each kerbonaut all too aware of what that silence meant. Then Wernher cleared his throat. "Everything looks good from here." "Guidance platform is Go," replied Sherfel quietly. James simply leaned forward and clicked a single switch. "Flight, Pioneer 1. Our board is green; requesting telemetry check." The response from Mission Control was similarly subdued. "Understood, Pioneer. Stand by." Everyone in the bunker silently watched Geneney push back his chair and beckon Jeb over to the console. He stood up, took off his headset and handed it over. "This one's all yours, Flight." Jeb raised one eyebrow. Geneney just dipped his head and deliberately stepped back from his console. Jeb nodded in quiet thanks, and took his place. "Pioneer, this is Jeb. We copy your board is green. Standing by for controller checks." Aboard, Pioneer 1, James ground his teeth in frustration. This is really not the time for more KIS surprises.. He looked over at Wernher, and was surprised to see the engineer staring calmly back at him. As if he'd been expecting this all along? Jeb gazed slowly around Mission Control, locking eyes briefly with each controller. One by one, each of them raised a thumb. He braced himself, made a note on Geneney's flight log, and clicked his microphone on. "OK, Pioneer, I've got a roomful of kerbals here telling me you're looking good." Jeb paused, shifting into Geneney's formal flight director's tones. "Pioneer 1, you are Go for TMI." "Copy, Flight. Go for TMI. KDS ignition in twelve minutes and counting." Jeb began to work the flight director's console, pulling up engine telemetry in preparation for the long burn out of Kerbin orbit. Behind him, Geneney wasn't at all surprised by the two ink-rimmed blotches spattered across the page of his logbook. ------------- "Eight dot two kps. KDS tank pressures holding steady, guidance is nominal. Clear telemetry links through primary and backup channels." "Pioneer copies, Flight." Fercan looked up from her terminal, frowned briefly, and returned to the lines of code filling the screen. She tapped a key, waited a moment for the compiler to run, and then swore under her breath at the screenful of error messages. It'd be quicker to re-write this myself than spend any more time untangling this mess. Yeah, yeah, keep it compact, but overflow loops in this day and age? Give me strength! Someone should tell Corvan to comment this junk, too. "Ten dot one kps. Ten dot two, Ten dot... and shutdown! We're running the numbers, Pioneer but that looks like a good burn." Fercan's head jerked towards the radio. Ten point two kilometres per second? What the...? Her fingers rattled across the keyboard, clearing the compiler report and starting up an orbit analysis program. OK, assume a circular starting orbit, call it three hundred kilometres, final velocity, ten thousand two hundred metres per second."Her eyes widened. That can't be right. That apoapsis would put them way beyond...Oh sweet Kerm." She grabbed the phone and dialled Corvan's number, fingers stumbling over each other in her haste. “Beta Station. Corvan here." “Corvan - it's Fercan! Are you following this?" “Fraid not, Fercan," said Corvan glumly, “Yeh know how it works during a flight - tracking stations are full of Rockomax or KIS controllers." “Have you not got a radio?" “Aye, but I switched it off," replied Corvan, “Sounded like that KBS fella had it right - just another docking and rendezvous practice." “Corvan - I think they finally got around to joining stuff to the capsules in orbit." Corvan's voice was suddenly, studiously casual. “Oh aye? What d'yeh reckon they stuck on it?" “Another rocket," said Fercan simply, “Unless you can think of any other way they could boost up to ten kps." “What?!" “No joke," said Fercan, “I'm going to rough out a trajectory before calling him, but I think the Director needs to know about this." “Och, come on," said Corvan, “There's only one place they're going." “I know," said Fercan softly, “Still want the rough numbers before going to Lodan though. We've got their final speed, launch time, and when they started the burn. That should be enough to tell us whether we're both reading too much into this." “Hmph. Time to call in that favour from Germore's team I reckon. A bit of time on their dish should help you firm up those numbers." --------------- Fercan stared at the plots on her screen. Too many unknowns for a proper calculation, but yeah - there's only one place they're going. She grinned, as she picked up the phone and started to dial. And I've wanted to do this for a long, long time! The phone rang. “Lodan." “Fercan here, Director. We're tracking an outbound spacecraft from low Kerbin orbit." Lodan sat up straight. “Outbound?" “Yessir. Trans-Munar trajectory." A pause. “We're picking up voice comms, sir - it's Pioneer 1." Lodan took a deep breath. “Thank you, Fercan. I shall be down at Tracking shortly. Please keep me informed of any developments in the meantime." “Absolutely, sir!" The phone dropped onto its cradle with a faint click. Lodan looked at it curiously for a second then slammed both fists down onto his desk. “Dammit, Ademone! I gave you that funding to keep those KIS idiots in check: stop them pulling any more damn-fool stunts!" The waste paper basket ricocheted off the wall, scattering its contents across the carpet. Lodan threw himself back in his chair, making it creak in protest, “I hope to all the Kerm that you bring your ship of happy fools home in one piece, Ademone! Kerbin needs this program and sending three corpses around the Mun is not going to help!" --------- Leland frowned. Why switch flight directors before a burn? That doesn't make any sense. He watched all the controllers slowly give Jeb the thumbs up. And neither does that. What on Kerbin is going on here? “Pioneer 1, you are Go for TMI." Leland frowned. Something about that sounded familiar. Then his jaw dropped. He shoved his microphone at his astonished camera operator and bolted for the press room door. “Get this, Don! If you love your job, get every last minute of this!" The press room was empty: no smell of day old coffee from the stove, nobody asleep on the threadbare couches, nobody on the phones or sitting writing up their articles. Leland hurled himself across the room, grabbed the nearest phone and punched in a number. The phone rang. “KBS News. Jonbo here." “Jon - it's Leland! No time to talk - need to get back to Mission Control, but I'm gonna need a second crew here! And send another one over to Foxham - get them to Rockomax before anybody else does! And a research team on those kerbonauts - we'll want the family interest angle!" Jonbo's voice sounded dangerously calm. “And why would I want to do that, Leland? You don't think that maybe, just maybe, we've got other news to cover right now?" “Jon - have you been watching my broadcast? Didn't you hear what Jeb said?!" Leland's voice cracked. “We've got a hero story here, Jon - and that's exactly what everyone needs right now!" Jonbo sighed. “I'm watching you, Leland, but for one damn moment, just pretend that I haven't been following the space program, and that I have no idea what Jebediah was talking about. It shouldn't be too hard. Now for the love of your mother's Grove, will you please tell me what on Kerbin is going on?" “That's just the point, Jon. This isn't anything to do with Kerbin." Leland paused. “TMI. Trans-Munar Injection. The Mün, Jon - they're going to the Mün." << Chapter 42: Chapter 44>>

Next chapter is up... The Best Laid Plans Jeb scratched his cheek. “In the meantime, I'm heading back to the office. You two want to take a walk?" James opened his mouth to speak but Sherfel stepped smoothly in. “Sure, Jeb. We're not doing much anyway until Wernher arrives." Jeb led the way out of Shed 2 and across the road. He shook his head as Sherfel veered towards the main warehouse, “Side door." He unlocked his office door and gestured towards the chairs in the corner. James opened his mouth again but closed it as Sherfel gave a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of her head. They both sat down and waited whilst Jeb peeled off his coveralls and hung them on a peg by the door. He straightened his shirt, pushed his hair back from his forehead, and sank into a chair beside them. “I don't know about you, but I'm thinking we need to rework this training schedule." Sherfel nodded cautiously. “I'd say so. I know you run things differently here, Jeb, but we're honestly not going to get anywhere if Wernher keeps being called out of training sessions like he has been. I know he's your chief engineer, but he's Pioneer 1's flight engineer, too." Jeb closed his eyes, “I'll get Gene and Camrie to talk to with Ordrie and Ornie and have them re-jig the construction schedule to free up Wernher's afternoons. We can push the Pioneer 2 timetable back a month if need be." He laced his fingers behind his head. “We're still going to need Wernher most mornings though - no way around that that I can see." “So what do we do in the mornings?" asked James bluntly. Jeb's eyes flicked open, “Whatever you like," he said, “Pick a team you can work with and find something that needs to be done." James's expression darkened, "Are you trying to tell us..." “I'm not trying to tell you anything," said Jeb. He sighed. “Look, outside of the training schedule, I can't make you two do anything. But if you'll take a friendly suggestion, it would be very good for team morale if you got your hands dirty with everybody else." James leaned forward angrily, “We're not your employees, Jeb!" “I know you're not!" snapped Jeb. “Nor is anybody else in this building - and most of them are still waiting to fly!" His voice softened a fraction. “I thought Ornie had explained all this?" “He mentioned that you depended a lot on volunteers,“ said Sherfel, “Showed us your new housing and told us about the early days of the KIS. We thought that was the kind of volunteering he meant." Jeb pinched the bridge of his nose. “That's part of it,“ he said at last, “but...Kerm. Okay, the original KIS was strictly volunteers only, for the very simple reason that we couldn't afford to pay ourselves anything. Any cash we scraped together we put towards the next project - ingenuity and scrap metal will only get you so far." A brief smile flitted across his face. “We gave Genie fits most months, but he usually managed to keep something back for bills and food rather than letting us blow it all on rocket fuel." Jeb pointed at his office window and the factory floor beyond. “We're in much the same place today. Volunteers only, everything we earn gets swallowed up by the next capsule or booster or piece of kit for Mission Control, or... you get the picture." He cocked an eyebrow at James, “The projects have expanded a bit though." James sat back in his chair, “Everybody working here is a volunteer?" he said skeptically, “I mean, sure - show me a company that doesn't have them, especially at management level. But everybody?" Jeb nodded, “Not all of them full-time of course," he said, “but yep, they get paid in food, lodgings if they need 'em - and the chance to be a part of something extraordinary." “We all build them, we all fly them," murmured Sherfel. “Exactly so," agreed Jeb. Sherfel watched James struggle to absorb Jeb's story. Oh, Kerm take it - when in Barkton and all that. “In that case," she said brightly, “I'd say you could use some extra hands with comms and sims maintenance. I can help there." Jeb winced, “Touché." Then he grinned, “Thanks, Sherfel - Neling'll be more than glad to have you aboard. How about you, James? Any thoughts?" James looked at him blankly, “Not really. Rockomax hired me as a pilot, not a greas...engineer." “Not a problem," said Jeb, “The blasting and painting team can always use a good kerbal, Hando and his gang would definitely be glad of a hand lugging gear down to the new VAB, although that's probably..." He snapped his fingers, “Better yet, you could do the rounds with Derny." He raised a finger warningly at James's apoplectic face. “Trust me, Derny's sharper than he looks. Think of this as the real guided tour." -------------- The alarm jangled shrilly in James's ear, jolting him awake. The sleep room was still dark, the single, curtained window barely visible as a dim grey blur against a black background. Yawning, he aimed a vicious swipe at the alarm clock and fumbled for the light switch, screwing up his eyes at the sudden glare. The thick wool rug tickled the soles of his feet as he climbed out of bed, retrieved his poncho from its hook and stumbled off to the moss room. By the time a scrubbed, refreshed, and far more alert James sat down for breakfast, the conversation had already turned to the day's work. Wilford stood behind the oiled wooden kitchen counter, slicing cold vegetables and pickles. Camrie and Sherfel sat at the matching table, sipping from bowls of steaming hot djeng. Sherfel smiled as she passed him the natas pot and turned back to Wilford. “And if it passes the last round of vibration tests, we should be able to start installing the tanks!" Wilford scooped the choppings into an earthenware bowl, and put it on the table in front of Camrie. “What about you, Sherf?" “I'll be helping Neling upgrade the data feed to Alpha site," said Sherfel, “Maybe taking a look at the connections to Whirligig 2 if I get a minute." Wilford nodded, “Yeah, Calzer's been talking about that for a while. Be good to have a spare sim up and running." Camrie snorted. “You volunteering to scrape the crust off the joints and see what else needs fixing?" she said. “Might just do that, once I'm done with the tanks," said Wilford cheerfully. “Propulsion won't be finished with the 909 testing until the end of the week anyway." James added a handful of vegetables to his bowl and ladled the thick grainy natas over the top. “909?" he asked. “Service module engine," said Wilford. “According to Ornie the main systems passed the stress testing without a hitch, but they're still qualifying the backup plumbing. Vibration, thermal and hot-fire tests next week, once its integrated with the thrust frame and hooked up to the tanks." Sherfel peeled the rind off a pickle slice. “Full duration hot-fire?" “Yup," said Wilford. “for both your main burns. Going to be the most thoroughly tested piece of machinery we've ever launched by the time Ornie's done." “Glad to hear it," said Sherfel neutrally. “Anyway - what about you, Camrie?" “Just flying a filing cabinet this morning," said Camrie, pouring herself more djeng. “Packing up all the blueprints and manuals for taking down to the VAB. Afternoon - more fitting out work at the VAB I'm guessing, now that we've got the crane working." James ate his breakfast silently. Sure. Just gonna be another big happy day down at the junkyard. He looked up as a shadow passed by the window. Wilford stood up just as the doorbell rang. “Morning! You folks all set?" Edsen poked his head round the door. “Just about," replied Camrie, lifting the djeng jug. “Bowl while you're waiting?" “Don't mind if I do," said Edsen. “Cold out there this morning." ---------------- Edsen threaded his car expertly into the parking bay and switched off the motor. His four passengers scrambled out, Sherfel bending over to massage her cramped calves, her breath steaming in the crisp morning air. Kerbals milled around outside the gates, chatting and greeting friends as they arrived. Periodically, small groups broke away from the crowd and headed towards the main warehouse. James checked his watch. This is ridiculous - it's only eight in the morning for Kerm's sake! “See you all later!" Edsen locked his car and hurried over to Bill and Neling, waving at three more kerbals who had just arrived. “I'd better go too," said Sherfel. “I'm supposed to be with Neling's team. She squeezed James's shoulder, and with a murmured "good luck", strode away after Edsen. Wilford loosened his scarf. “I don't know about you," he said to James, “but I could do with a coffee to get me started. Coming?" He hugged Camrie. “See you at lunch, love." He and James made their way through the crowd, angling towards the staff canteen where they were greeted by a cloud of steam and a very peculiar odour. Derny lifted a pot off the stove and set it down on a chopping board. Frowning, he prodded at it's contents, absently scratching his head. “Morning, Derny," said Wilford. He eyed the cluttered worktop curiously. “We can come back later if you're still making breakfast." “You're welcome to this horrible slop, Wilford," Derny replied, “I wouldn't bother though. Freeze-dried tuber sounded like a great idea but it tastes like wet plaster and I just can't figure the consistency out at all."He brightened up. “Anyhow - what can I do for you and James?" “I'm just here to grab a coffee," said Wilford. “but James'll be standing in for Jeb this morning." “Starting at the top are you?" said Derny. He gestured at the two water heaters fixed to the wall. “Those should be boiling by now, urns are on that trolley over there, everything else is in that cupboard to your left. Biggest urn is for coffee, you'll be surprised to hear, other two are for djeng and greenleaf. If you could crack on with that, I'll dump this mess in the bin and clean up. Kettle's all yours, Wilford." “Thanks." Wilford flicked the kettle on and began rummaging around for a mug. James stared at him expressionlessly, and walked over to the trolley. By the time Derny put his drying cloth down, steam was rising from the three urns and James was waiting for him, expressionless look still fixed in place. Derny lifted the lid on the coffee urn and sniffed appreciatively. “That'll do it," he announced. “Machine shop first, while it's still fresh, Assembly and Fitting next, then a refill, then Propulsion. The tank teams prefer their coffee with a bit more character, so we'll leave them till later. Could you get the doors? Cheers." The machine shop was crowded, noisy and redolent of cutting oil, hot metal and overheated kerbals. The smell of hot drinks and the squeak of trolley wheels on concrete still managed to cut through the din with ease. One by one the machines spun down, their operators hanging up their goggles, grabbing a mug from the rack and joining the queue at Derny's trolley. Bob...Ordrie...Adelan...Richlin...James realised he was staring blankly at the first kerbal in line. “Sorry?" “Coffee for me please." “Uh, sure."James took the proffered mug, filled it and handed it back to its owner. “Thanks, James. Catch you later!" “A djeng please, James. Is Jeb busy then? Bob handed over his mug. Eyes narrowing, James filled it with the fragrant brew. “Milk?" he managed. “Not for me." Bob sipped his drink, “Ahhhh, that's a good cup. Thanks, James." James glanced suspiciously at Bob's cheerfully guileless face. Beside him, Derny was chatting away to Adelan about the previous night's net-ball scores. He blinked, automatically taking the next mug being thrust at him and filling it with coffee. On their way out, Derny snapped his fingers. “Nearly forgot about Roncott." He swung the trolley round and set off up a narrow corridor of concrete block wall and echoing metal ducts. “Next door on the right, James but for Kerm's sake knock first. I never know what's going on in here." Cautiously, James rapped on the plain steel door. “One minute!" There was a heavy, trolley-shaking thud, followed by a rattle of chains. The door creaked open and a long haired kerbal peered out, face hidden by a heavy welding mask. “Oh. Hi, James, hi, Derny. Come on in." James followed him into a long corrugated iron shed. An unwieldy collection of tubing and hydraulic cylinders squatted on a test stand which had been set up at a discreet distance from the door. A large, tattered diagram was taped to the opposite wall and a motley heap of spare parts occupied most of one corner. “How's the new gadget working out, Roncott?" asked Derny, handing him a mug of greenleaf tea. Roncott sighed. “Well it's working after a fashion,“ he said, “but it's still far too complicated." He noticed James's curious look and gestured at the test stand. “It's supposed to be a hydraulic separator. In theory it should be more reliable and safer than explosive decoupling." He sipped his tea. “In theory. I've made some improvements to the original design but I'm starting to see why they gave it up as a bad job before Kerbal 1." He looked at James hopefully. “Have you got any ideas?" Me. What on Kerbin do I know about hydraulics? James shook his head. “Not at the moment," he said carefully, “but I'll have a think." His heart sank at the happy look on Roncott's face. “That would be great! We should have everything we need here to build any prototypes. Hey, Derny - could I get a top-up before you go?" Derny looked at James sidelong as they walked back along the narrow corridor. “You could ask around at lunch," he said. “Somebody can probably think of a way to help the poor lad out and I doubt they'd mind if you pinched the odd idea." The bustling main assembly area provided a welcome distraction. The nearly completed Pioneer 1 capsule nestled snugly in its protective scaffolding. The surrounding bench tops resembled a high technology slaughterhouse, the electronic and mechanical guts of the spacecraft spread out for all to see. Two kerbals were perched on the scaffolding, installing subsystems in the nose assembly. Others were working at the benches or carrying finished components over to the open capsule hatch. Nearby, another team of workers were busy applying insulation to Pioneer 2's crew compartment, the raw metal and exposed frameworks a stark contrast to Pioneer 1's streamlined exterior. Some distance away, a skeletal cylinder was beginning to take shape, fuel tanks and other systems stacked up on the surrounding storage racks. Derny tapped James on the shoulder. “I'll do the trolley work here. You'll be wanting to have a look around I expect." James just nodded, his attention already caught by an immense dish, placed well away from the two capsules. Closer to, it resembled a giant piece of honeycomb, the very centre of which was inexplicably decorated with a shaggy fur disc. “Resin." James spun round and found himself face to face with yet another familiar face. Oh come off it. Point made Jeb, point made. No need to wheel out every last kerbonaut on the roster! He blinked. “Sorry - Ribory isn't it?" Ribory grinned “That's me. And it does look furry doesn't it? More spiky actually - we fill the cells under pressure and the resin tends to spurt out the top. We machine it down of course, before fitting it to the capsule." “How do you do the filling?"said James curiously. “By hand," said Ribory, “Well sort of. Electric caulking gun, twin reservoir, fixed stroke." James knelt down to inspect the heat shield. Kerm - they do all this by hand? He sighed to himself. Better than serving coffee for the next umpteen weeks. “That's still a big job," he offered quietly. “I could lend a hand if you've got a spare gun?" --------------- Jerfun stamped the snow off his boots and hung his heavy, fur-lined jacket on the nearest peg. He tossed his gloves onto a chair and hurried through to the sleep room. The Kerm branches overhead rustled listlessly at his approach, leaves hanging limp in the gloom. He shivered, neither the fur mosaics decorating the walls, nor the thick drapes across the window helping to dispel the chill. “Ambassador." The sour, layered scent of dried sweat clung to the shapeless figure on the bed. Bloodshot eyes gazed steadily at him from a mound of blankets, matted brown hair so entangled with Kerm leaves that it was impossible to tell where Kerm ended and kerbal began. “Keeper," he replied, “You have news?" “Truly, Ambassador." An unwelcome chill swept through Jerfun. “Tell me." The figure sagged. “Another Kerm, Ambassador. Near the Valley, perhaps further. It is hard to tell." “You are sure?" The eyes glared at him. “Truly. The patterns are recognisable - twisted, mark you - but recognisable. More to the point, the intruder observes and learns. Unless you know of another learning tree on Kerbin, Ambassador?" “I do not. I mean no offence, Keeper, but I will need to verify this." The blankets lifted briefly. “Of course, Ambassador. And what then?" “If you are correct, I see only one possibility," said Jerfun, “Even were I minded to ignore the violation of our borders, my duty is clear." He scowled. “Neither am I inclined to entrust this to the interminable deliberations of Conclave. No, Keeper - if needs must I shall claim the ancient right of all kerbals." The figure nodded. “Truly, Ambassador. I would join you were I not so...required." ------------ The wind howled around the ridge, driving thick flurries of snow before it. Jerfun stopped to tighten the drawstrings on his hood. He reached under the lip of his goggles with one gloved finger, scratched his cheek, and settled them back into place. So much for tracking. His rifle bumped awkwardly against his back. And so much for lugging that around. Any scallan, on this hill or the next, will be den-bound by now. He scowled. Which means that the nearest caves are probably occupied. Which means that I'm stuck in this Kerm-forsaken snow unless I'm minded to gamble with finding shelter. Which I am not. He looked around to get his bearings then, head down, he plodded on, his skis alternately scraping over packed ice and digging into loose drifts of snow with a knee-jolting jerk. Behind him, the snow was already hiding all traces of his passage. A large boulder marked a fork in the trail although by now the path ahead in either direction was completely hidden. Jorfun retrieved a handful of trail mix from his pocket and chewed on it thoughtfully, weighing up his options. To the left, the upper slopes of the ridge stretched out before him, bleak and exposed against the skyline. To the right the path narrowed as it wound down and around the side of the hill. No choice really. Doubt that anybody's watching but the tops will be too exposed anyway in this wind. He bent down and fumbled with his skis, kicking the toes of his boots out of their bindings before lashing the skis together and slinging them over his back. He unhooked a set of crampons from his belt, leaning against the boulder for support as he tied them on. Then he set off down the path, leaning on one ski pole as he went and cautiously probing at the ground with the other. The deepening snow lay like a bedspread over the village, deadening all sound. Low slung buildings, built from greystone and slate, hugged the valley floor, thick walls impervious to the inclement weather, heavily shuttered windows keeping in the warmth and the light. Terraced rows of dwellings had been dug into the hillside, front doors protected by stout overhanging eaves. Lamp-posts dotted the terraces, their warm yellow light all but swallowed by the billowing flakes tumbling from the leaden sky. Spindly trees dotted the landscape, skeletally thin branches standing stark against the grey. On the hillside above, Jerfun lay flat on his stomach, sweeping the valley with his binoculars. Thought they looked too regular. She was right - that's a new village for sure. An ugly, blocky, Kolan village to boot. He clenched his jaw Breaking our borders, stealing our land and despoiling what few fields we have! That last thought brought him up short. Need to prove that first. Although I cannot conceive of a new village without a new Kerm. He panned back across the valley, looking out beyond the village buildings. Then he stopped, fingers tightening in a death grip. No. She was right about that too. Painstakingly he scoured the valley, searching for more saplings. Twenty six...twenty eight...hirty two...one over there makes thirty three, and three more in a line over there. The binoculars tilted down, focusing on the village. And one last one in the middle. Jerfun got to his feet. Coldly and deliberately he put his binoculars back in their case, brushed the snow off his jacket and started back up the path. ----------- James wiped his cloth over the section of composite and peered critically at the oily film it left behind. He pressed the snub-barrelled ultrasound probe against the surface and squeezed the trigger. A warning buzzer sounded, accompanied by the usual flashing red light. James swore to himself, marked the faulty cell with a vicious swipe of his pen, and moved on to the next one. The buzzer sounded again and James threw down the probe in disgust. “Ribory! This Kerm blighted probe is on the blink!" Ribory hurried over. You sure, James? I only calibrated them this morning. Let me try mine." She unhooked a spare probe from her belt and plugged it into James's analyser box. “Coupling film looks OK." She pushed the probe against the panel and pulled the trigger. Bzzzzzz. Ribory studied the grainy black and white image on the analyser screen. “Ahh - there's your problem. She pointed at the screen. "Got a bubble in the middle there. Not a big one, but big enough." She gave James a sympathetic look. “Drill time I'm afraid. Don't worry about it - it gets easier with practice." She grinned. “Reckon I wasted at least a year's worth of bad language on the Moho 1 shield, but Eve 1 was OK." James frowned. “You built your own heat shield?" Ribory looked at him strangely. “I built - or helped to build - all of them, James, from Moho 1 upward. Why would I skip over Eve 1? Building your own shield certainly keeps your mind focused on the job, I'll grant you that, but building one for your best friend or your boss does that too." James digested her words. “Must have been reassuring to have the quality control team checking over it," he said at last. Ribory blinked. “What quality control team?" She waved her ultrasound probe in front of James's face. “Why do you think we're messing about with these? I suppose I could run a probe over your panel once you're done - and if your probe spits out any readings that you're not sure about then give me a shout. Apart from that though." She shrugged, “You're checked out on the gear, your test piece was fine and you know what you're doing. You wouldn't be on the team if I thought I needed to watch over your shoulder the whole time." A cold lump settled in the pit of James's stomach as Ribory picked up her caulking gun and went back to work. Tommal - he's first in line for Pioneer 2. He stared unseeingly at the analyser screen picturing the superheated plasma hammering at the ablative resin. Just under the surface, the bubble swells, bursts, weakened fragments of resin torn away by the hypersonic slipstream. More plasma rushing in, carving out larger chunks of heat shield, melting the underlying bulkhead. Tommal's horrified expression as the window buckles, shatters, rips free. The capsule tumbling out of control, breaking up..." At least I'm not working on the aft shield. Not that it would make much difference. James swallowed hard, carefully marked the defective cell and picked up his probe. ------------- Well now - there's something you don't see too often. Dondrin stepped out from under the sheltered portico that guarded the entrance to the Capital building. Northern Wakiran ceremonial garb I would say, and very traditional it looks too. He inspected the ornate fur collar more closely. Poor fellow must be melting under all that. “Good afternoon, Ambassador. Dondrin Kerman, Capital News. May I have a moment of your time?" Jerfun narrowed his eyes and kept walking. “You may not." Dondrin blinked. Surly fellow aren't you. “I have an audience with the Twelve Pillars," Jerfun continued. “Which I intend to put on the public record. For the benefit of all news outlets," he added sardonically. He strode towards the reception desk and, after a brief exchange with the receptionist, marched briskly out of the lobby with Dondrin following at a discreet distance. Once he'd assured himself that the aloof ambassador was indeed heading for the Council chamber, Dondrin took off for the press gallery at a run. He burst through the door and threw himself into a chair as the Chamber doors thudded shut below. Chief Ambassador Burvis waited at the podium, the remaining Pillars sitting silently around the Council table. Jerfun stood impassively by the door. “Misters President, mesdames President, honoured chief Ambassadors. We are assembled here today to grant the ancient Right of Conclave. I have answered the petitioner and I deem his request worthy and to be made in sound mind." Burvis inclined her head towards Jerfun, “Let the record note that Ambassador Jerfun stands alone, and that I, Burvis Kermol, beg that the Twelve Pillars give his petition all due consideration and support." “I now call Jerfun Kermol to the podium." Burvis took her place at the table, facing the empty podium. Jerfun walked to the front of the room, bowed to the assembled Pillars and stepped up to the lectern. Burvis cleared her throat. “Do you, Jerfun Kermol, wish to place your petition on the public record?" “Madame President, I do." The twelve kerbals at the table sat up a little straighter. One or two of them exchanged brief looks. Up in the press gallery, Dondrin leaned forward intently. Burvis kept her face carefully impassive. “By order of this Council, a petition so placed shall be deemed accurate and inviolable. Any false statement made therein, whether purposeful or inadvertent, does constitute a betrayal of these Twelve Pillars, punishable consecutively, to the fullest extent possible by law, in each of the Six Regionalities of Kerbin." “Does now the Petitioner, in full and complete knowledge of the consequences of his actions, wish to place his petition on the public record?" Jerfun didn't hesitate. “Madame President, I do." There was a sudden silence. Twelve pairs of eyes stared unblinkingly at Jerfun. Unseen, Burvis's hands trembled. “Then we beg the Petitioner to speak." Jerfun bowed. “Madame President, Mesdames President, Misters President, honoured Chief Ambassadors. I, Jerfun Kermol, thank you for granting this Right of Conclave." He gripped the edge of the lectern. “I claim this right that I may bring the gravest of news to this Council. I For I have witnessed a breach of the sovereign borders of the Regionality of Wakira, and a breach of Grove Law." Jerfun paused. I refer specifically to the Law of Territory..." ------------- "Anyway, g'night, guys. Try and get some sleep - Gene'll get nervous if you yawn your way through the countdown." The door clicked shut, leaving James and Sherfel alone. James stared into the lamplight, his chair creaking as he rocked back and forth. Sherfel scrunched herself deeper into the couch and picked up her book. She stared unseeingly at her page for a long moment and then put it down again. James's head tilted towards her. "Wonder if anyone else is still awake?" Sherfel didn't need to ask where. "Jeb will be," she answered. "According to Wilford he never sleeps the night before a flight. Gene too probably and I doubt they're the only ones. What about you, Jim? Restless night ahead?" James propped his chin on his hands. "If you'd asked me that a couple of months ago... but right now I've got a pretty good feeling about it. I still think Jeb runs a strange crew and they can still be..." "Haphazard?" suggested Sherfel. "Infuriating was the word I was looking for." James was silent for a moment. "After working on Tommal's heat shield though - yeah, I don't have any worries about their engineering." Sherfel laughed softly. "You get used to it don't you?" She chuckled at James's questioning look. "Tommal's heat shield you said, Jim. Not Pioneer 2's." James looked at her thoughtfully. "I did, didn't I? That personal touch sure makes all the difference though." He shook his head. “That's what their whole program depends on when you get right down to it." Sherfel rolled her eyes. "I thought pilots were supposed to be observant. You missed the part where every kerbonaut they've launched either works in Mission Control, or builds part of their spacecraft or does something else in the program..." "Including making coffee and mopping the floors," said James. "That really threw me that first day. Nobody seemed the slightest bit amused - or even surprised - that I was trailing along behind Derny with the coffee trolley." "Speaking of Derny," said Sherfel, "I think I've finally figured out what to do with his freeze-dried tubers. Remind me to tell him next week." James grinned. "You get used to that too, don't you? That's one thing I do like about being here - if you've got a problem, you can guarantee that somebody else is working on it too - and won't stop until its fixed. Not that Rockomax is any different of course, but it's something else that feels more personal here." He leaned back in his chair. “Which is probably why I'm not worried about sleeping tonight." --------- "... and we'll be bringing you more on this story as it develops. This is Capital News at Ten." Jeb switched off the television and stared wide-eyed at Geneney. "So what do we do now, Genie?" Geneney ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know," he said at last, "If this is what they think...it could get ugly, Jeb. Really, really ugly." "And then some," said Jeb, "It'll be the end of the program, Genie, if things get that bad. Who's going to care about spaceflight if their Groves are going up in flames or down with the Blight, or..." His voice tailed away. "Oh I think plenty of people will, Jeb," said Geneney grimly. "Except that the rockets won't be going very far - and they won't have capsules on top either." Jeb sat bolt upright. “Well they can pillage those rockets from some other spaceship parts company," he said flatly. “Decision made, Gene. I'll ring Ademone now. If Rockomax are still in, we call a general meeting first thing tomorrow morning. Anybody that wants to go back to their Groves, or bail out for any other reason, goes with our sincere thanks and best wishes. If enough of the team are left - we launch! Too bad we never got to build the lander but If this ends up being our final flight, then lets give them all a glimpse of what should have been." << Chapter 41: Chapter 43>>

Procedural vs non-procedural fairings have already been debated fairly extensively here.

It's a good thing that kerbals don't have braids to tug then. Seriously though, great story - and I loved the way you worked in the Mystery Goo!

Done and done. Ten Key's Farlight added too. I really need to update this list when I get a spare moment.

First of all, thanks to Northstar for the reply to my Moore's Law question. That makes more sense now. Taking another look at the cnet article, I'm still wondering about the tradeoffs with the proposed beamed power engine. As far as I can see we're still looking at a fairly complex and heavy piece of machinery that's basically half a conventional rocket engine. We've got a supply of cryogenic hydrogen, which isn't the easiest or cheapest stuff to work with, we've got a turbopump and we've got some kind of closed loop to drive that turbopump. It's obviously not as complex as a full hydrolox engine but neither is it a trivial piece of engineering, especially if it also needs to be reliably reusable. Then on top of that, we've got the added complexity and cost of the microwave transmitter station and the need to keep the beam on-target throughout the launch. Technically it might be feasible, but there seems to be a lot of added complications to stack against the touted performance increase. Or in other words, unless the 2.5x performance increase of your engine can translate into a 2.5x reduction in launch costs then it's not going to be worth it. Reusability will certainly help but then you're facing competition from SpaceX style reusable systems and (far more speculatively) Skylon or other airbreathing reusable launchers. Of course, we won't know for sure until somebody takes the plunge and tries it, but I can see why the idea hasn't gained a lot of traction yet, and I don't believe that's entirely down to vested interests and scientific conservatism, as the cnet article suggests.

I don't know about the fine details of microwave propulsion but I do know about patents. TL: DR - be careful before getting too impressed by them. There are two main strategies that Escape Dynamics could adopt. Patent everything or keep it all as trade secrets. Both have advantages and disadvantages. Keeping trade secrets is hard but if you can do it, nobody knows how you do what you do. However, if somebody does figure it out, then you have no comeback unless you can prove they stole your work. Patents are published and have a finite lifetime, so your competitors will a) have plenty of warning about what you're up to (and how you're doing it), and will eventually be able to use your tech for free (assuming it's still worth anything after the patent expires). Whilst the patent is in force though you can sue your competitors to stop them using your tech. SpaceX have taken the trade secret approach. This makes sense - there's not a great deal in their technology that's innovative. Their main advantages are in clever engineering (know-how), a lean business, and a business model that relies on extensive vertical integration. It's debatable how much of that can be patented anyway, a lot of it depends on their whole corporate culture (which isn't so easy to copy) and all the clever engineering is done in house, so its easier to keep as a trade secret. For Escape Dynamics, the technology is far less proven and much more diverse (everything from microwave emitters to spaceplanes). Vertical integration seems less likely and substantial investment will be required. Therefore I would fully expect them to take the 'patent everything' approach. Much of the value of the company will lie in its IP, at least in the early days. Thus, I'm not at all surprised (and neither would any competent investor) to see that kind of statement on their website. However, without seeing details of their patents (applied for or in-licensed), it's almost impossible to tell how useful or relevant they are. The patent databases are full of great ideas and great technologies that just never made it to market. Not necessarily because they didn't work, but because they didn't work well enough to displace existing technology, or didn't offer anything compelling enough to create a market, or just failed through good old fashioned business bad luck. Also early patents around a technology aren't necessarily very helpful. Personal example - a company I worked for had a granted patent for their next generation product. The product worked, the patent was valid - no problems there. The problem was that the first version of their product (as protected by their patent) simply wasn't good enough to compete with their existing product. Fifteen years later, after much R&D and a couple more patents (to protect the bits of new technology they developed that did finally make their 'next generation' product worth buying), it was all good. But by then, the original patent was almost at the end of its 20 year lifetime.

Odd. One thing that might be worth trying is to strip off all the stuff on the sides and just leave yourself with a basic 2-stage rocket. You shouldn't even need to lift off (either tweak all the fuel out of the first stage tank in the VAB, or set throttle to zero on the launchpad), just hit space and it should count as a successful test. You'll be able to completely recover the entire rocket, so you won't lose any funds for doing this.

Either go totally random or expand the Original 3 to an Original 6, three male, three female.

I'm afraid I'm siding with Nibb31 on this one, certainly from the links provided so far. The Escape Dynamics website is pure puffery. Lots of grand ideas and hand-waving, almost no tangible details. Heck, the cnet article was more informative. Concrete points for discussion: From the cnet article - "According to Parkin, who is an Escape Dynamics adviser and who wrote his own Ph.D. thesis on microwave thermal propulsion, a beamed energy propulsion system is capable of producing 2.5 times as much thrust as a traditional chemical-based system. He said that the standard system tops out at an energetic reaction of 16 megajoules per kilogram, while the beamed energy approach can reach 40 megajoules per kilogram." That's good but doesn't sound groundbreaking. A beam powered launch vehicle would still require a substantial amount of propellant, which takes you right back to the good old rocket equation. And at 1MW per Kg (as per the Wikipedia article) for the duration of the flight to orbit, that's a lot of power for any sort of reasonable payload. Put a cubesat in a light-as-possible disposable shell and it might work. Might. A spaceplane would be significantly more challenging. Also from the cnet article - "Further, he said, there are those who are critical of the very concept of beamed energy propulsion, mainly because they worry that the technology is not really capable of producing enough of an increase in propulsion efficiency to make investing time and money in it worthwhile." I would say that's an entirely justified concern if you're only looking at a 2.5 x better propulsion system. It is better but it's also untried and going to be expensive. Pet peeve - "But to Diamandis, bringing high technology into the equation means that for the first time, Moore's Law could be applied to the science of propulsion, and that could mean that the cost of putting payloads in space could very well drop rapidly as does the price of computer components." What the blue stripey blazers does Moore's Law have to do with anything? Rapid advances in one field of technology don't necessarily have any sort of bearing on advances in another field. We have totally sci-fi phones, but we have a notable lack of flying cars for example. "High technology" isn't some magic wand that automatically makes everything possible. If anyone could link to a more detailed paper on any of this, I'd be grateful. I'm curious about a lot of the technical details, most notable vehicle steering and giving it sufficient velocity on the right direction to get to orbit. I presume this has already been thought about, so I bring this up as a genuine 'enlighten me' request.

Not that it matters but apparently screenshots are coming, at which point - problem solved. Besides it's no less a fan-work than this.

I agree with Tuareg on this one. A small number of players would really dig this - others would do a lot of saving and reloading or reverting to launch. However, it might work really well as a way of spicing up contracts a little. If the random failures happen to some other space program and they need you to launch a rescue mission / send a refueling tanker / send an engineer to fix the busted spacecraft.

Great chapter - for some reason this one just made me smile!

Interest here. I'm liking Billy already. And the writing style too.

I would say so. I'm not too keen on having un-guided rockets capable of reaching 100km altitude. More generally, this seems like a worthy idea but I have a feeling that building your open source sub-orbital rocket is going to be one thing. Getting permission to fly it or apologising after the event is going to be another matter.

I'll take your word for it, but that doesn't seem quite right to me. I would have thought that a reusable (as in refuel-and-go) first stage would still be a cost saving. How much of a cost saving I don't know. Anyhow - this launch is running too late for me. For all those who will be watching it - hope there's something to watch and here's to a successful 1st stage recovery!

I'm not sure how well this would work in-game, but I thought I'd just throw this out as a discussion point. Lets get rid of science. Or more accurately, lets split the current Science system into pure and applied research. Everything that the current Science system does (tech tree progress and use within strategies) becomes Applied Research. Then you have Pure Research as either something that's given to you as a contract for monetary gain, or something that you can add to your missions to generate bonus reputation. Applied Research is gained from: Building spacecraft (borrowing this idea from Kerbal Construction Timer). Landing on, walking on or orbiting around celestial bodies. Returning craft from orbit. Parts test contracts. Materials bay tests, in flight or in space. Mystery goo observations in flight or in space (I'm rationalising this by assuming that Mystery Goo is biological. Observing biological systems in space drives research into life support systems). Temperature and pressure readings. (Knowing about thermal or aerodynamic stresses on your spacecraft is helpful for building better spacecraft.) Applied Research therefore becomes something that partly happens automatically as you undertake missions (to reflect your space program's increasing experience and competence) but is also partly player driven so that tech tree progress doesn't become a scripted sequence of missions that you need to do to get any further. Pure Research is gained from everything else - sample returns, EVAs, gravioli and seismic measurements, and materials/mystery goo observations landed at various biomes. I'm lumping EVAs into Pure Research because, from an engineering point of view, it really shouldn't matter whether I do an EVA flying above a desert, a mountain range or an ocean.

Very nice work - and congratulations on the Daily Kerbal mention!

Something I plan to do eventually, if nothing else to have a single, clean, portable version rather than a mishmash of forum posts, Pages files and .rtf files. The early chapters will need quite a bit of formatting work though. In the meantime, if you haven't already been there, there's a nearly up-to-date version on my forum blog which might be a bit easier to read.

Perfectly possible but not economically. We can even make synthetic elements that don't occur naturally, essentially by smacking the right isotopes together at speed.