KSK

*coughs* *looks at the very first stickied thread in the Fan Works forum.* I take your point OtherDalfite but I don't see anything wrong with a good old fashioned caption competition either. So here goes. "Its 23.4 kilometres to the lander. I've got a fully charged battery, half a radiothermal generator, it's dark, and I'm wearing a space helmet." "Hit it."

Oh yeah! I'm picturing the combined kerbal Press Corps as something like a pack of five year old humans on a sugar rush. They'll most likely break things but only out of excitement, excess enthusiasm and sheer weight of numbers! Ambushing a kerbal with a bag of fresh snacks was a bit mean though. Loved the message at the end. *Raises glass* - here's to the Caelus, to all that build her and all that fly aboard her. Strange that you're having problems with character limits. Not something I've encountered with First Flight thankfully and that's comfortably over 100K characters. One thing you could try (assuming you're not using it for something else already) is to post new chapters as entries on your forum blog and then use this thread for comments and links to new chapters.

Move over Kerlington. Here's how you do it! http://www.universetoday.com/112702/video-spacex-tests-new-steerable-fins-on-the-falcon-9r/

In related news, kerbal engineers conclude that their first generation MechJeb is "a little too big" and decide to focus on miniaturization for the next version. On a serious note, this is definitely the coolest WhackProject yet!

The plot thickens already - and that's a good fix on paragraph two!

Ahhh - that's what happened there. Fair enough and apologies for any implications. Definitely keep all the updates in this thread. Some folks add new updates to an existing post, some folks add updates as new posts in the thread. Both work but personally I prefer updates in new posts - it makes them easier to see!

The best way to blow our minds is to carry on writing. Unless I'm missing something, so far we have one slightly short first chapter that sets up what looks like a very interesting story. Then we have a strange detour into an unconnected story that's borrowed from somebody else. That's not a great deal to go on so far, although personally, I'm looking forward to more. Also, if it's any comfort, the number of comments compared to number of views on this forum always tends to be low. Even an epic like The Grand Tour which took a year to write, has a thread of over 245 pages and just short of 370,000 views still only has 2,448 replies and quite a few of those are updates and comments from the author. That's not a great ratio. If you write it they will come... Good luck.

Thanks OrtwinS, Patupi! Thinking about those last two posts have really helped crystallize some aspects of Kerm biology in my mind - and perhaps more importantly, given me some good material to help fill out one of the ongoing story arcs. Better yet, it all flows fairly well (I think ) from the existing story and worldbuilding, so the new material should answer some questions without needing to rely on any awkward justifications. Yeah - more on this to come!

Intriguing start that instantly raises lots of questions. I really liked the description of the Cartographer too (whoever or whatever it is!) Great way to begin a story - hope there's more to come. If I was being really, really picky, there are a couple of typos and the second sentence of Part 2 doesn't scan so well (too many repetitions of 'sky'). However they only stick out because the rest of the writing is so good!

Sorry - I just meant that you could skip the pictures and give yourself more flexibility to tell your story. I loved your picture of Jeb's living room by the way, especially the way you did the TV - but there is a limit to what you can do with screenshots because there's a limit to what you can build in-game. Whereas with writing you don't have to worry about building it or making screenshots - you can just make things up as you go along. So, if your Laythe lander wasn't working, it wouldn't be a problem, just describe it for us.

Because fluorine. From Wikipedia: Not something you want to be keeping around in rocket-fueling quantities. Plus if anything goes wrong (and what could possibly go wrong with a rocket powered by liquid metal, fluorine and hydrogen), there's a high chance of large quantities of hydrogen fluoride being released.

I know necroing is generally frowned upon but given that the library is intended to be an ongoing project, I'm not sure if there's any way around that. Anyway, sorry I missed the last two posts - both stories are now up in the library, although I think I need a new 'dark fiction' shelf for Vostok's!

Agreed. Looking forward to seeing where this goes!

Going with a football-ish theme. "There's only one Jebediah. One Jeh bah diiiiiah!"

Argh - lots of good ideas here - not sure how to answer them without letting spoilers slip! Appreciate the comment about the line though Commander - that's good to know.

Well a windjammer wouldn't get too far without its mainsail(s). Glad somebody spotted that! And yeah SMAC was definitely an inspiration for First Flight, although hopefully that's still 'inspired by' and not 'ripping off'. You might remember this quote too; "Observe the Razorbeak as it tends so carefully to the fungal blooms; just the right bit from the yellow, then a swatch from the pink. Follow the Glow Mites as they gather and organize the fallen spores. What higher order guides their work? Mark my words: someone or something is managing the ecology of this planet. Lady Deirdre Skye, "Planet Dreams" Does that sound vaguely familiar?

If you can live with not doing a 'pure' after-action-report you could always use infinite fuel to get Orion out to wherever you want to take your pictures. Or ditch the pictures altogether and go with a text only story. Writing is great - you can put scenes into your story that you could never create an in-game screenshot for. Not without some serious art skills at any rate.

Done - thanks for the link!

Hey folks, Sorry about the silence on this thread lately. I got a bit stuck on the planned chapter - one of those places where I knew how I wanted it to go but was having difficulty finding the right words. Sooo - I decided to backtrack a little, shuffle some events around chronologically and wrote this instead. Next chapter is up... Uncharted “It sure looks like one. Let me get a better look." Kirman lay on his stomach and leaned out over the river bank, trying his best to ignore the stench of rotting grass. Below him, the sapling jutted out from its cleft, its roots pushing up ridges in the shallow sandy soil. The rings of glossy green trefoil leaves around its stem rustled in the breeze. Kirman wrinkled his nose. Cinnamon. That settles it then. He stood up and brushed the worst of the mouldering vegetation off his robes. Jenburry looked at him expectantly. “Definitely a Kerm sapling. Trefoil leaves around the stem and it smells of cinnamon." Jonburry swatted a stray bitefly away. “That doesn't make any sense," she said, “Unless one of the nearby Groves was re-grafting a tree and the cutting just blew away. But no Keeper would be that careless." “It could have been carried here by the river I suppose," said Kirman. “Or maybe a stray twig washed ashore and sprouted?" “In this soil?" said Jonburry skeptically, “Besides twigs don't 'just sprout', else we'd see stray Kerm all over the place after a storm." Kirman frowned. “I'm sure I read something about it in the Archives," he said. "You can check when you get back to your Grove," said Jonburry, “But forget how it got here - I want to know why it's the only thing around here that isn't dying." Kirman shaded his eyes and peered across the river. “Everything looks fine on that side," he said slowly. “Maybe somebody dumped something nasty around here? It would explain why the damage is relatively contained - the river would stop it spreading to the other bank?" “Dumping?" said Jonburry skeptically. “Doesn't seem likely - and it doesn't explain why it's not attacking the Kerm either." Kirman shrugged. “Maybe Kerm are just tougher," he said. “They do grow pretty much anywhere after all." He bent down to tie his boot lace. “Anyway - we should get moving. Afternoon's wearing on and we still need to figure out how widespread the damage is." The two kerbals set off across the brown, wilted plain. Skeletal bushes dotted the landscape; the few leaves left on them blotched and dappled with a rich variety of moulds. To the south, a dense belt of woodland wound away into the distance, its leafy canopy interrupted here and there by the familiar tip of a Kerm tree. At least the sickness hasn't spread back to the forest thought Kirman, We should warn the nearest Groves though, in case it gets any worse.. He stared around in dismay. Whatever's causing this it's showing no sign of petering out yet. Biteflies buzzed around them, the faint breeze blowing across the river doing little to keep them away. Kirman flapped his arms irritably and rummaged in his pockets. Yeah, didn't think I'd brought the bug repellant. Shouldn't be any need for it on a day like today. “Hey, Jonburry - don't suppose you brought any bug repellant? Damn things are eating me alive." Jonburry gave him a baleful look whilst she brushed a cloud of smaller specklebugs away from her eyes. “Does it look like it, Kirman." Kirman shook his head. “Not really, no. Come on - the quicker we find the edge of this mess the better." The end of the dead zone was as abrupt as it's beginning. Kirman and Jonburry climbed a shallow rise and stopped in astonishment at the sudden expanse of greenery laid out before them. Jonburry scratched her head. “I think that does it for your toxic spill idea," she said. “The cut-off is just way too sharp." Kirman retrieved a pair of sample containers from his belt and took a soil scraping from each side of the line. “You're probably right," he agreed, “but lets wait till we get these back to the lab." He waved at the forest line in the distance. “Same curved edge as on the other side. It certainly looks like something is spreading out from a central point, poisoning everything as it goes." Jonburry looked around. “This is a pretty straight stretch of river bank," she said thoughtfully. “We should be able to find that centre point." She unhooked a square metal plaque from her belt and consulted the dial set into its surface. “That's odd. According to the step counter, the halfway point was right about where we stopped to look at that Kerm sapling." Kirman looked at his watch. “That sounds about right," he agreed. “Which means that... oh." His eyes met Jonburry's. “C'mon, Jon - it's not the Kerm that's doing this." “It would explain why it's the only thing in that wasteland that isn't dying," said Jonburry grimly. “But it makes no sense," said Kirman, “Why would a Kerm decide to kill everything around it? Especially this close to other Groves." “Nothing about this makes sense," said Jonburry. “Simple enough to to test though - we just dig up the Kerm, move it somewhere else and see if the land around here recovers." Kirman shook his head. “Easier said than done," he said. “It depends how well developed the roots are. Roots aren't the only thing either - if the sapling is causing all this..." He gestured helplessly, “all this, then it must already have an extensive fibre network in place. If we break too many of the fibres... it would be like carrying you to a new home but cutting off your fingers, poking your eyes out and breaking your nose on the way." “Won't the fibres grow back?" said Jonburry quietly. “I don't know," said Kirman. “As far as I know, nobody has ever tried transplanting a rooted Kerm sapling before." Jonburry ran her fingers over the step counter. “But if we're right, we can't leave it here either, “ she said. Kirman blew out his cheeks. “No," he said reluctantly, “no we can't. And we'd better re-plant it well away from other Groves too; we can't risk it attacking other Kerm." “That's a long way upriver then," said Jonburry. “Not the best land for planting but better than leaving it here." Kirman nodded. “I'll go back and get another sample from near the sapling," he said, “Just in case it's not the Kerm and there is something toxic spilt there. Either way my report to the Ambassador will recommend that we move the sapling upriver." Jonburry hooked the step counter back onto her belt and shivered as the gathering wind blew around her robes. “So will my report to the Envoy," she said. “Let's hurry up with that last sample, Kirman; I can smell rain coming." ---------------- Gerrigh plucked the muddy, fibrous fragment out of the hole and stood up grimly. “Casing. Or what's left of it. That's no cutting, Obrett - this sapling grew from a seed." Obrett sighed. “In a strange sort of way I'm glad to hear that," she said. “At least that old Keeper wasn't foolish enough to plant another sapling in his Grove." “No," said Gerrigh, “but he did manage to miss a new Kerm seed sprouting here." “To be fair, it must have been buried somehow before it would germinate," said Obrett. “I'd be astonished if it was planted deliberately. What does surprise me is that nobody spotted the new Kerm shoot before it was too late." Gerrigh began kicking soil back into the hole around the Kerm stem. “So what happened here?" he said, “Did you manage to find anything in the Archives?" Obrett ran her fingers through her hair. “Nothing helpful," she said at last. “The older Records are hopeless - completely illegible where they haven't faded completely. A lot of stuff about the Law of Thirty-Seven of course but nothing to explain why the Law was written or what happens if it's broken." Gerrigh stared around at the devastated fields full of sickly, dying crops. “I think we just found out what happens," he said bleakly. “What we don't know is how." “We can guess," said Obrett. “Look at the zone of dead vegetation around the sapling - it's almost perfectly circular." She gestured at the rest of the village. “But the rest of the damage is scattered all over. Almost like something exploded." “Go on," said Gerrigh intently. “I think the new Kerm triggered some kind of reaction from the Grove Kerm. Something that disrupted its control over the surrounding plants and caused them to die." She blinked. “It sounds crazy but I think this circle is a Kerm battlefield." “And the explosion?" said Gerrigh. Obrett shivered. “That was the end of the battle," she said. “Remember what the old Keeper kept saying Gerrigh; “The sparks are coming... they're still coming... they're going to kill us all...“ Gerrigh looked at her in sudden horror. “I've no idea what the sparks are," he said “but if you're right then it sounds like that Keeper was in communion with his Kerm at the very end." He blinked hard, “and died trying to defend it." Obrett nodded solemnly. “I think so too," she said. She braced herself. “I also think that one of us needs to try communing with it again." The wind whistled mournfully through the abandoned village, stirring the weeds that peeped between every flagstone. Away from the fields, the Grove trees swayed against a steel grey sky. Most of the hut windows around them were shuttered but apart from the occasional creaking hinge, the village was unnervingly quiet. Of course it is, thought Obrett irritably, It was evacuated not abandoned. You're just walking through an empty village not a ghost town.. Even so, the stark silhouette of the Kerm tree growing through the centre of the Keeper's hut, looked distinctly ominous set against the scudding clouds. Gerrigh lifted the latch and cautiously pushed the hut door open. The two kerbals stepped inside. Obrett sniffed at the air and sighed with relief. “What?" said Gerrigh. “It smells clean in here. A bit stale and a lot of cinnamon but nothing rotten." Gerrigh nodded. “I guess the medical team cleaned up the poor Keeper's hut before they left. Come on - lets get this over with." He led the way out of the kitchen towards the sleeping room. He pushed the door open, coughing as the thick, cloying smell of Kerm leaves caught unpleasantly in the back of his throat, As far as he could tell, the tree looked normal. Its leaves were still but clean, unaffected by any of the assorted blights afflicting the crops outside. Obrett eyed the bed and waiting leaf cluster with trepidation. Gerrigh gave her a sympathetic look. “I hate to say it," he said softly, “but if ever there was a job for a Keeper..." She nodded, swallowed hard and walked over to the bed. She brushed her hair back from her scalp, closed her eyes and lay down under the leaves. Gerrigh bit his lip as he watched the leaves curl around Obrett's head. So far so good - I think. Suddenly Obrett's knuckles tightened on the bed frame. Her feet twitched and Gerrigh heard her breathing go suddenly ragged. She held still for another couple of seconds before whipping her head free of the leaves and bolting for the door. Gerrigh winced at the loud retching noises filtering through the wall. When Obrett came back she was pale and shaking. Gerrigh slipped off his overjacket and draped it round her shoulders. “Come on," he said, “we can talk about this somewhere else." Back in the kitchen, Obrett poured herself a mug of water and sat down at the table. She pulled Gerrigh's overjacket tightly around herself, took a long drink and looked up. “We were right." “About the battlefield?" said Gerrigh. “So... you managed to speak to the Kerm?" Obrett shook her head. “That wasn't a Kerm, Gerrigh. I don't know what it was but it was ruined; smashed beyond healing or repair." Her voice rose. “I held on as long as I could but the fragments, oh sweet... the poor mangled fragments. And the voices - the unending torrent of voices!" Obrett took a deep breath. “Sorry. Just give me a minute." Gerrigh gulped his own water. His mug rattled as he put it down. “So what do we do?" he said. “We salvage what we can from the village. Then we burn the entire Grove to the ground; branches, trunks, stumps, roots, fibres - everything. Then we plough the ashes into the soil." Gerrigh's jaw dropped. “You can't be serious," he said weakly. Obrett wiped her eyes. “Not yet," she said. “A better Keeper than me might be able to help but I doubt it. I think the only thing we can do is put whatever's trapped inside those trees out of its misery. Come on Gerrigh - I need to get out of here." The two kerbals put their mugs on the draining rack, turned around and left. Gerrigh closed the door behind them, stopped and pulled a small paper packet of his pocket. He shook it and Obrett dipped her head in understanding. “Of course," she murmured. Gerrigh knelt and pushed his fingers into the soil, making a row of indentations next to the hut wall. He opened the packet and then stopped dead. No point really. He closed the packet again and went back inside, emerging a moment later to join Obrett by the gate. “No point planting sweetblossom vines in this soil," he said briefly, “I've left them on the table. Whatever happens to this village and whoever is responsible for it - hopefully they'll understand." Silently, they turned to face the hut, folded their hands together and bowed their heads in remembrance of the departed Keeper. Over their heads, the Kerm leaves rustled in the chill wind. -------------- “The performance numbers are impressive Hanbal but are they realistic?" Hanbal rolled up his diagram and tapped it on the edge of his workbench. “They are," he said, “The one big unknown is the plate assembly; most of the rest are scaled up versions of our current parts." “We don't have a use for anything that size," Ademone pointed out, “Even if you can get it to work." Hanbal cocked an eyebrow at her. “Not yet," he said, “Not until anyone needs to put any serious mass beyond LKO. But if...when that day comes, Rockomax will be ready for them. Think better, think bigger - it's what we're all about, Ademone; says so right on our company logo." Ademone stared impassively at her chief of propulsion. It could be the dawn of a new era or we may get to the Mün and never go back - it doesn't matter. What matters is that we tried. “Very well," she said at last. “Consider Project Windjammer authorised." She raised a hand. “Proof of concept only Hanbal; this is not a full scale system development project. I want to see detailed designs, I want to see critical component prototyping and testing. Then we'll think about taking this to the next level." “Understood," said Hanbal. He nodded at the bespectacled kerbal hurrying towards them. “Hi, Lars." “Hi, Hanbal," panted Lars. “The Director is here, ma'am - I've shown him up to your office." Ademone frowned. “The Director?" “Director Lodan, ma'am. I know he doesn't have an appointment but he did say it was urgent." Surely the KSA have mastered the use of telephones. “I'm sure it must be urgent if the good Director came to see us in person," said Ademone. “Thank you, Lars. Please excuse me, Hanbal." “Of course, Ademone. Mustn't keep the KSA waiting." ------------ Lodan ambled around Ademone's office peering at the assorted memorabilia on display. Pictures of the Mün and Kerbin from space adorned the walls and two glass fronted cabinets held a selection of carefully labelled spacecraft parts and assorted tools, including a large wrench mounted in pride of place. A small display screen rested on Ademone's desk, cables snaking down to the much larger data terminal on the floor. The display stand of old mortars and other fireworks, each conspicuously marked with the letters SFC in a bold jagged script, made an incongruous counter to all the high technology. Puzzled, Lodan squatted to inspect them more closely. “Don't worry - they're empty." Lodan stood up. “I'm glad to hear it," he said. “but why?" “Just a reminder," said Ademone. “This is a pleasant surprise, Director. Please take a seat." Lodan removed his jacket and hung it neatly on the back of his chair. “We're both busy kerbals, so I'll get straight to the point," he said, “I need a satellite launcher as quickly as possible." Ademone looked at him. “I presume there's a reason why we couldn't discuss this by telephone?" she said. “There is," said Lodan. “Perhaps I should rephrase my request. I need a satellite launcher as quickly and discreetly as possible." “Rocket launches are quite noisy," said Ademone dryly, "and our launch manifest is full for the next few months." “I'm pleased to hear it," said Lodan, “although I have no idea how you manage to fit in such an active program of research and development launches around your commercial schedule." Ademone raised her eyebrows. “Not as active as we would like," she said, "but as it happens we might have one scheduled soon." “Excellent," said Lodan blandly. “I don't suppose it would be capable of launching, say two tons to a polar orbit?" “That would be one of our... larger research launchers," said Ademone carefully. “We have more BA-CA boosters in production of course but they're currently reserved for commercial use and extending the production run would be expensive." "The KSA can cover any reasonable expenses," said Lodan. “When would the launcher be ready?" “Would two weeks be acceptable?" “Quite acceptable," said Lodan, “Reconfiguring the payload and delivering it to the launch site will take about that long in any case." “Then I think we can meet your request," said Ademone." Lodan drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, deliberately avoiding Ademone's eyes. “It sounds like your satellite business is going well," he said at last, “If I may ask though - do you have any other plans in progress?" Is it just me or does the good Director sound worried?. “We have the CORDS program with the KIS," replied Ademone. “and I believe our research teams have some ideas for expanding the Endurance orbital station." Lodan perked up. “CORDS?" “Common Orbital Rendezvous and Docking Systems," said Ademone. “Our joint development program, including on-orbit testing, for interoperable spacecraft systems." “Good... good,"said Lodan. He smiled, “I imagine that the KIS and Rockomax do things rather differently." Ademone nodded, “We do, but credit where credit's due - the KIS are nothing if not pragmatic. CORDS has actually been a lot easier - and a lot more productive - than I expected." “And after CORDS?" said Lodan casually. “We have no current plans for further collaboration," said Ademone. “Rockomax might not have any plans," said Lodan, “but after speaking to Jebediah and his team, I'd be astonished if the KIS don't." He looked at Ademone thoughtfully. “What if the KSA was to offer its assistance?" Ademone looked at him narrowly. “Exactly what kind of assistance did you have in mind?" Lodan's eyelid twitched. “Financial assistance," he said. “I'm sure my research teams would be delighted to get access to some Rockomax hardware for a suitable consideration. A sponsored development program perhaps, with upfront payments." Ademone's chair scraped across the floor as she stood up. “I think we're finished here, Director,“ she said coldly. “Rockomax has no interest in accepting bribes, however well intentioned." Lodan pulled out an envelope from his jacket pocket. “It's not a bribe," he said quietly. “Each and every payment going to Rockomax will be properly accounted for and included in the KSA quarterly reports to President Obrick's office." He pushed the envelope across Ademone's desk, the ornate seal of the Council of Twelve Pillars clearly visible. “Please - go ahead and open it. I believe you'll find President Obrick's letter of authorisation to be quite in order." Ademone's eyes widened. “That would have been a better way to start this conversation," she said. “But why...?" “The secrecy?" asked Lodan. “I can't discuss specifics yet Ademone but the KSA has...plans and we're going to need contractors. From what you've just told me, your CORDS program is something we would need anyway, so we're content to treat it - and any immediate successors - as a light touch, confidential opportunity for Rockomax to demonstrate its capabilities." He cocked his head. “I don't require detailed costings of every last nut and bolt but I do expect reasonable outline proposals and budget estimates. Collaborative proposals will be looked on particularly favourably." ------------- Gerrigh squirmed in his chair, trying to find a less uncomfortable place on the hard wood. The meeting room had very obviously been designed to resemble a kermol hut; round with a scattering of thin rugs on the plain wooden floor and most of the solid, practical furniture likewise constructed from plain woods. Tall pots of flowers or leaf decked branches stood around the outside of the room and what pictures there were on the walls also favoured leaf and flower motifs. I appreciate the effort and it sure beats steel and glass kerman minimalism but somebody should let them know that the overly woodsy look went out a couple of years ago too. Gusemy and Neilbin were both listening intently to Obrett's report. A shadow passed over the ambassador's normally cheerful face at the description of the ruined Kerm. All four kerbals bowed their heads in tribute to the dead Keeper. “Thank you Obrett, “ said Gusemy quietly, “and Gerrigh - please rest assured that the vines will be planted as soon as we can." He sighed. “In the meantime, I'll pay a visit to the Berelgan. I know some people in their botany department who may be able to help that Kerm." Neilbin completed the unspoken thought. “And find out what they know about Kerm seeds." “Yes," said Gusemy heavily, “and find out what they know about Kerm seeds. I'll need to warn Conclave too of course..." “Before any more seeds fall," said Neilbin soberly. Gerrigh cleared his throat, “Forgive me, Envoy but what do we do if any more seeds do fall." Obrett jerked forward in her seat. “We plant them as far away from any other Groves as we can!" “Yes," said Gerrigh, “but where do we plant them? On the Koluclaw mountains? On the beaches? We're pretty boxed in here." “Humilisia," said Obrett. Neilbin looked at her incredulously. “You can't be serious," he said, “Doren would never stand for it." Gusemy snorted. “So tell me something new. Doren has no territorial claim over the archipelago; their Ruling Council can hardly complain if we start a new Grove or two on the larger islands." “Since when has lack of due cause ever stopped Doren from complaining about anything?" said Neilbin. “Besides, I've been to the Humilisian islands - they're nothing but mountains and scrubland. Fine for a wilderness holiday but hardly fertile ground for new Groves." “Which is another reason why they can hardly complain. We're not depriving them of anything they would actually care about." “If their Kerm start seeding too, they'll care about those islands for exactly the same reason that we care about them, Gus!" Gusemy scrubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. “I know," he said quietly, “I don't like this any better than you do, my friend but we don't have many options." “The Doren mainland must surely have space for new Groves, Ambassador?" said Gerrigh, “It's the biggest regionality on Kerbin after all." “Hopefully," said Gusemy, “We just don't know." “Envoy," said Obrett, “you said the Humilisian islands were mountainous? How mountainous exactly?" Neilbin looked at her. “The largest island is almost a ring of mountains," he said. “The southeast corner is a bit less rugged but apart from that." He shrugged. “Good," said Obrett. “It sounds quite easy to defend." Neilbin's jaw dropped. “Defend!" he spluttered. “We're not going to war with Doren!" “I hope not," said Obrett, “but if the Doren Groves start seeding, we could be dealing with some very frightened kerbals." Her voice hardened. “Trust me on this, Envoy - one broken Kerm is enough to frighten anyone. Too many broken Kerm and the Doreni are going to demand action from their Council. I will defer to our own Council of course but in my opinion, if we go to the Humilisian islands we should be prepared for the worst." << Chapter 33: Chapter 35>>

That's just crying out for a... Dun, Dun, Dunnnnn.

Agreed - nice drawing but wrong forum.

Depends how you define civilization. To quote the late, great Douglas Adams: “For instance, on the planet Earth, man had always assumed that he was more intelligent than dolphins because he had achieved so muchâ€â€the wheel, New York, wars and so onâ€â€whilst all the dolphins had ever done was muck about in the water having a good time. But conversely, the dolphins had always believed that they were far more intelligent than manâ€â€for precisely the same reasons.â€Â

Pfff - a sink plunger will do at a pinch... I kid. Tentacles would be my bet in the absence of opposing digits.

Agreed. I do try to keep my enthusiasm at the 'fan' rather than 'fanboi' level.

I tried using half a mouse once. It didn't work.