KSK

Yay - Beagle Flight is still Go! And the Kerbs in black were cool. Scary but cool.

Thanks Weegee - glad you're enjoying it! And thanks for the extra rep attempt Briansun. Next chapter is up. Reunion Gerselle bent down and kissed the top of Joenie's head. The kerblet rolled over sleepily, still clutching a stone in one small pudgy green fist. “Ummy, 'one." Gerselle smiled, “Yes, beautiful girl, I can see you've still got your stone. Just you hold on to it and you'll still have it in the morning." She pulled the cover back over Joenie and watched as her daughter's eyelids drooped, struggled fitfully to stay open for just one last minute and then closed. She waited quietly for a moment, until the slowing pace of Joenie's breathing told her that she really was asleep, then turned away and tiptoed out of the sleep room. Meleny was waiting for her on the porch. “Both asleep?" she asked. Gerselle nodded. “Both absolutely out for the night, touch wood." Meleny chuckled softly. “And so they should be. I've never seen such a pair for getting into places that they shouldn't. Give them another month or two and we'll both be hard pressed to keep up with them." Gerselle sank into a chair. “Another month or two? I'm hard pressed to keep up with her now and she's only barely walking! Although your Adbas seems to manage just fine." Meleny grinned. “The trick with Adbas is to keep him distracted. If he's busy enough playing with something new then he tends to keep still. For half a minute at least." Gerselle groaned. “I should probably have married a geologist then rather than a Keeper. At least a geologist would be able to provide a steady stream of new and interesting stones to play with." She sighed. “Speaking of Keepers... I should probably go. Joenie should sleep through the night but the quicker I get back the better." Meleny shook her head in mock seriousness. “Well I'm just as happy that you married a Keeper. I don't want to even think about the chaos that either of our two would cause if they got their inquisitive little hands on Daddy's rock hammer!" Both kerbals got to their feet. Gerselle gave Meleny a brief but heartfelt hug. “Thank you so much for looking after her tonight. I'm afraid I might be imposing on you quite a bit more over the next few months as well." Meleny looked at her curiously. “How much time does a growing Kerm actually need?" “I have no idea," Gerselle confessed, “and the Records aren't much help either. They do give plenty of advice about how to talk to your Kerm but not very much at all about when, how often, or how much care they actually need." Meleny quirked an eyebrow at her. "So, much like parenting books then? Lots of detail but none of it ever seems to apply to your own little bundle of joy." Gerselle nodded wryly. “Probably. Although I'm also hoping that Kerms are at least a little bit like kerblets, and need less attention the older they get. As far as I know they can feed themselves too and don't need cleaning - or at least I devoutly hope they don't!" Meleny laughed. “Feeding and bathing a Kerm! I wouldn't know where to start." “Me neither but I think I'm about to find out. Peaceful night, Meleny." “Peaceful night, Gerselle." Meleny watched as Gerselle set off down the path towards the rest of the village without even pausing to wave goodbye. Not that she blamed her. The care and feeding of kerblets was one thing, the care - and feeding, of Kerm was quite another. “Good luck, Gerselle," she whispered, “Good luck." As she trotted across the village green towards her makeshift shelter, Gerselle reflected that whatever was about to happen, it was at least a good night for it. The young Kerm was far too small to build a hut around of course, so the best she had been able to do was a rough lean-to to keep the worst of any rain off her sleeping pallet. Not that that was going to be terribly comfortable either but it would have been far worse if it had actually been raining. She reached the entrance to the lean-to and ducked under it, being especially careful not to brush up against the Kerm sapling in her way. Munlight glowed softly through the chinks in the roof as she dragged her pallet over to the sapling and crawled into bed, carefully working her head under the newly unfurled cluster of leaves midway up its slender trunk. She lifted her head until it brushed against the leaves, slipping her pillow under her neck as she did so. Then, not really knowing what else to do, she waited. The leaves were cool and felt slightly prickly as they rested against her forehead. They also didn't seem to be doing very much. Gerselle tried to remember if the Records had mentioned anything about this but to the best of her recollection, most of the advice revolved around what to do once the Kerm had made contact. The concept of a shy Kerm didn't really seem to have been a consideration. She frowned and reached around behind her to massage her neck, lifting her head up as she did so. The prickly feeling against her skin was abruptly replaced by an unpleasant crawling sensation as the leaf hairs began to wriggle against her scalp. Startled, Gerselle's head thumped against her pillow as she reflexively flinched away. That... crawling feeling, wasn't at all like the mild tickling that Jonton had described but perhaps he was just used to it. Or maybe his Kerm was just older and a little more practised at making contact. Still, there was no avoiding it. Gerselle rolled up her poncho into a bundle and wedged it under her pillow to provide a little more height. Then, gritting her teeth, she shuffled up the pallet until her head was in place back under the Kerm leaves. Instantly, the crawling sensation started up again and Gerselle clenched her calves as she tried to remain still. Fortunately, the feeling did subside into more of a tickling feeling as the leaf hairs burrowed underneath the more sensitive outer layers of her skin. Then they stopped. There was a pregnant pause. Gerselle breathed deeply, trying to still her racing pulse and calm her thoughts. If she tried hard, she could almost believe that she felt a faint tendril of other thought brushing against her mind but it was extremely tentative, darting away as soon as she tried to reach out to it. Remembering the advice from the Records, Gerselle stopped trying to focus on the fleeting glimpses of thought and instead did her best to project broader feelings of welcome and reassurance. It seemed to work. The tendril still felt very cautious as it approached but this time there was a definite moment of contact. A brief wash of aroma swept against Gerselle's mind and then withdrew. Emboldened by her lack of response, the tendril came forward again, brushing more confidently against her. Gerselle's nose twitched at the scent. Other tendrils circled round and then settled delicately against her mind. More scents swept through her brain and then more and yet more, as the Kerm opened itself up to her. Gerselle's nostrils fluttered wildly as the flood of aromas cascaded through her. Overloaded, her brain began to interpret them as bursts of colour and even snatches of sound. A distant, rational part of her realised that the Kerm must perceive almost everything through smell - it's world was in the minutia of the soil and the creatures within it. Creatures that had no need of light and had only the crudest sense of sound. The rest of her struggled to hold itself together against the torrent. The Kerm seemed to realise that she was struggling and the flood of information slowed. The lean-to around her had been replaced by a surreal landscape of coloured blotches. Fragments of sound fluttered across it, snatches of birdsong, the wind in the trees, a babble of voices, the tap tap tap of footprints across the porch. A furious melange of scents still bombarded her, some pleasant, some... very pleasant indeed. Gerselle cheeks flamed in the darkness and she devoutly hoped that the Kerm was not aware of the significance of that particular smell. Other scents were less enjoyable and occasionally she felt a very strong urge to gag. As Gerselle relaxed, the landscape began to shift. Slowly at first and then jumping randomly from scene to scene. None of it made the slightest bit of sense but at the back of her mind she could sense happiness, excitement and an almost childlike enthusiasm. The phrase “Ummy, 'one!" drifted through her head and she fought down an urge to burst out laughing. The Kerm really wasn't so very different from a kerblet after all and it had the same infectious joy and desire to share its world with her. She couldn't really make out very much of what it was trying to tell her - and indeed she had a sense that the Kerm itself didn't really understand very much of it either, it was simply repeating what it had sensed. Gerselle had no idea how long she had been in communion with the Kerm but the colours around her were starting to blur and melt into one another. The scents were also becoming more muted and she had the distinct feeling that the Kerm was tiring. In response, she did her best to project thoughts of sleep and rest. A thought struck her and she focused firmly on an image of the Kerm leaves lifting away from her head. <disappointment> Gerselle was stymied. How could she explain that she would be back soon? Did the Kerm even have a sense of the passing of time? Then an another idea struck her. She did her best to recall the aroma of damp earth in the morning and the scent of Kerm leaves in the early morning mist. She let the memory fade out and be replaced by the feeling of cold on a starry night and the crisp clean scents of the evening air. Finally she focused on herself, lying under the Kerm sapling and lifting her head up to brush against its leaves. <happiness>...<more more more>...<not now> The colours around her faded away. Gerselle was only vaguely aware of the leaf hairs withdrawing from her scalp as she slumped down in her bed, utterly drained. Blinking, she stared at the clock hanging from a nearby branch. Only an hour to cram all that sensation into? Small wonder she was so spent. Still - at least she hadn't kept Meleny waiting too long. ----------- The next morning, Gerselle wasn't feeling a great deal less tired. She had made the mistake of telling Joenie that Daddy was coming back tomorrow, which had led to a tearful bedtime when Daddy failed to appear. Gerselle had eventually soothed her by promising that she would see him in 'one sleep'. One very short sleep as it happened. Joenie of course had been up at first light, whereupon she had promptly toddled across to Gerselle's bed, squeaking in excitement. Gerselle still had no idea how she had managed to climb up onto the covers but not only had she managed it but she then proceeded to bounce cheerfully up and down on Gerselle's stomach babbling 'Dadadadadadada' to herself. Groaning, Gerselle had bowed to the inevitable and climbed out of bed for a very early breakfast. It had been a trying morning, with a very excited kerblet but now they were standing by the side of the road at the edge of the village, watching a small figure walk towards them. As the figure drew closer, Gerselle smiled to see Jonton's familiar ambling walk. She put Joenie down and waved to him. “There you go, beautiful. Why don't you go and say hello to Daddy?" Joenie perked up. “Dadada? DADADADA!" She scampered off down the road. Jonton dropped to one knee and flung his arms open in welcome. As Joenie crashed pell-mell into him, he swept his arms around her in a great bear hug and kissed her. “Hey hey, big girl! Where did you learn to run so fast?" Joenie clung to him for a moment and then squirmed around and pointed back to Gerselle. “Ummy!" “That's right - mummy. Shall we go and give her a hug?" Jonton settled Joenie onto one arm, dropped his backpack and sprinted up the road. Tears prickled his eyes as he saw Gerselle's face and put his arms around her and Joenie both, in a long wordless embrace. “It's been far too long," he murmured into her ear. Gerselle didn't reply but just drew him closer until Joenie squeaked in protest. “Oh - sorry. Are we squashing you, little lady?" Jonton gently disentangled himself and put Joenie down on the ground. Gerselle squeezed his arm briefly before retrieving a large pack at her feet. “So what now, love. Do I get to see the new village?" “In a while. I thought it would be good to get a little time to ourselves first." She shook the pack. “How about some lunch in the new Grove?" The three kerbals made their way up the hill. Gerselle smiled to herself as Joenie grabbed hold of Jonton's hand, forcing him to alternately shuffle and skip along behind her, almost bent over double. As the path got steeper, he stopped, scooped a delighted Joenie up and settled her on his shoulders. “That's better." Jonton's back popped as he took a good look around him for the first time. “This looks a bit different than I remember." Wonderingly, he walked up to one of the Kerm saplings and stared at it in delight. “This is looking remarkably healthy - in fact the whole hill is looking remarkably healthy given what I remember of the soil." Gerselle nodded. “The clover is doing well. This is our second crop now, after ploughing the first lot back into the ground." She laughed, “You always did tell me that the Kerm would speak to me through it's leaves." Jonton looked puzzled. “It does," he said slowly, “but not until the knitting is complete. How did you know it wanted you to plant the clover?" Gerselle's eyes widened. “Through the spots on the leaves of course. It's all written down in the Records." She walked up behind him and pointed over his shoulder. “They're fading a bit now - I guess the soil has improved slightly - but you can still see the blue dapples. Different colours and patterns mean different things but apparently blue means 'plant clover'. It took quite a while to work out since the oldest Records aren't very clear but it certainly seems to be working." Jonton shook his head in disbelief. “Messages in dappled leaves. I had no idea! I guess my old Kerm is settled enough now that it doesn't need those sort of messages any more. Anyway - this looks like the perfect spot for lunch." The three kerbals settled down onto the clover. Jonton kept half an eye on Joenie as Gerselle opened her pack and set out a simple meal of greenleaf rolls, cold sapwood cordial with milk, baked tubers and plump orange sunfruit. As he bit appreciatively into a tuber, he was mildly surprised to see Joenie grabbing pieces of roll and stuffing them into her mouth. Gerselle caught his surprised look. “I've had to stop making them with luffa eye peppers," she said ruefully. “Those didn't go down too well but yes, she loves greenleaf." She paused as Joenie grabbed another morsel from her plate. “And baked tuber too apparently. At least they're probably a bit better for her digestion. Too much greenleaf tends to have unfortunate effects." After lunch, the two adult kerbals sprawled out companiably on the clover, watching Joenie scamper over the hilltop. “She really can move on those little legs," Jonton said in wonder. Gerselle smiled proudly, “You should see her with her friends. Always the first into everything, although Meleny's Adbas is usually a close second!" An excited voice drifted over to them, “Urm 'ummy, Urm!" Jonton raised his eyebrows, “Kerm?" he said. “Worm, I expect," said Gerselle. “Worms, leaves and especially stones - it's all new and exciting." As if to prove her mother right, Joenie hurtled towards them, clutching something in her hand. She dropped it proudly on the ground in front of Jonton. “'One, dada, 'one!" Gravely, Jonton picked up the stone for inspection. Oh - that's a good stone, sweetheart. Look, can you see the fossil?" “Ossil!" “That's right. Fossil." He offered the chunk of rock back to his daughter. “Joenie want stone?" Joenie shook her head firmly. “Dada ossil." Jonton was oddly touched. “That's very kind - thank you, Joenie," he said solemnly. He dropped the fossil into one of the pockets of his poncho. “Daddy is going to keep the ossil... I mean fossil, in his pocket." Gerselle got to her feet. “Come on, beautiful. We'd better take Daddy back to the village. Would you like to go on Mummy's shoulders or Daddy's?" “Ummy!" Jonton chuckled. “That sounded pretty definite," he said. “You take Joenie, love, I'll carry the bags." << Chapter 18 :: Chapter 20>>

If in doubt start small, especially if you're not launching a very big payload. With a monster rocket, that last set of boosters strapped to the side might not be doing much more than lifting their own weight.

There are some comments on the thread in the 'Live from Mission Control' section of the forum. I quite agree though and the rest of Nassault's KSP videos have similar power.

I can believe that. Last I checked, First Flight has just about scraped over the NaNo target and I've been plugging away at it fairly steadily since June. Trying to cram all that into one month - yeah. Or rather - no. Not for me at any rate. I can't honestly claim any actual knowledge here having never tried it but it seems to me that NaNo is partly a wake up call, as to quite how much text goes into a novel and partly about the discipline of sitting down and banging out the words. Editing comes later if at all, unless you are really quick at getting the words down and have time to edit as you go. Caffeine tolerance - ouch. I was there or thereabouts at one point with coffee (thank you all-night lab sessions) but decided I'd better cut back for various reasons, the kidney pains being something of a hint. Mind you, the coffee in question was courtesy of a mate in the next lab along. This was the guy they'd send all the visiting Turkish and Middle Eastern professors to, so that they could get some real coffee rather than this suspiciously liquid stuff that was the only other thing on offer. So relying on it for caffeine and hydration probably wasnt a smart move in retrospect (although I suspect Bob would approve ) Anyhow - back on topic. Thanks for the patience Commander! No ETAs as yet but its all moving on.

I have no words... I'm not sure whether you'll actually orbit this thing or just use it to politely push the whole of Kerbin 70km to one side.

Heh - speaking as an ex civil servant, at least NaNoWriMo doesn't involve having the Treasury breathing down your neck. I'm certainly not planning to do the whole 50K words in a month thing though. Taking time off around then was more for the company - I have a couple of friends that'll be taking some time off themselves to work on their own stuff, so I ought to be able to scrounge some tea and couch space somewhere But taking a few days off work (which I need to take anyway - I can only transfer so many days onto next year) to bash away at First Flight, does sound like fun in an odd sort of way.

AAR - After Action Report. A story based around an in-game mission. For example Jool of Kerbol System or There-and-Back-Again No story updates I'm afraid. The last couple of weekends have been pretty hectic so I havn't had many chances to sit down and write. Also I finally figured out how the final chapter to Part 2 was going to work, so I've skipped ahead to work on that whilst the details are more or less fresh in my mind. It's a pretty big chapter plot-wise and should answer at least one question from this thread! In the meantime I highly recommend (assuming you havn't already) searching the forums (or YouTube) for anything and everything by Nassault630. Beautifully crafted short (and not so short) KSP films that will make you smile, laugh and probably shed a tear or two as well. Don't hold me to this but I'm hoping to take a few days off work - possibly around the beginning of November to coincide with the start of NaNoWriMo and get some solid writing put in on First Flight. I'm not planning to enter it as a NaNoWriMo project but that just seemed like an appropriate time to take some writing leave. Cheers, KSK

Nice prologue! Looking forward to seeing where this goes.

Yeah I'm with you there, although of the 'Original 3' short movies, I think Bill is my favourite. Quiet underspoken Bill who turns out to be completely and utterly badass. 'This is Bill Kerman. Starting reentry...'

If you do nothing else, spend enough time to watch the rest of Nassault's work. Just make sure you watch 'Kerbal' or 'Star Stuff' alone unless you don't mind getting more than a bit misty eyed in public. Back on topic - watching this was a marvellously uplifting way to end the evening - thank you!

Oh man - this really does put the 'art' into fan art. Wonderful stuff - and it prompted me to go back and watch your other movies. Thank you.

I stand corrected. Thanks everyone and apologies to RocketScientistsSon!

Other way around. A polar orbit is 0 or 180 degrees and an equatorial orbit 90 degrees (launching eastwards) or 270 degrees (launching westwards) In practice you'll want to be launching onto an easterly heading to take advantage of Kerbin's rotation and shave a couple hundred m/s off your delta-v requirements.

Made my best rendezvous ever in Munar orbit. Didn't quite get the launch window right from the surface so my lander ended up orbiting some way behind my command module. Switched to the command module, made one burn to put me on an intercept with the lander, a second burn to correct my inclination and put me on a nice 1.4 km closest approach. Made rendezvous within a single orbit and docked shortly after with plenty of fuel left to get me home. Probably never do it again but it felt great, just making those two tiny correction burns - about 10m/s delta-v for the pair of them I think - and winding up that close to target.

Just dropping in to add another vote of support for the OP and also to say that it's nice to see a 5 page thread on this issue that hasn't approached mod-lock (it's like gimbal lock but worse ). Just a quick comment on names - I find that the random generator produces names that can be read either way. My story on the fan works forum basically uses generated names either from my own games or scraped from various pictures posted on this in different threads - the 'post your fails here' threads usually offer good pickings . I've tweaked the spelling on maybe a couple to make them sound more feminine to Terran ears but mostly they're just stock names.

Oof. After that little exercise, I seem to have enough outline material for another dozen chapters. That's going to take a while but given that I just tried to log in as KIS rather than KSK, I think I should probably put the story down for tonight! KSK.

Thanks everyone! Exsmelliarmus - the serenity of space is just what I was aiming at so I was really happy to get that comment. It's funny how things work out though. The idea behind that chapter was very much to explore the perspective of an apprehensive pilot who really 'gets it' when he finally makes it to space. I didn't set out to make it particularly tense, although I guess if the opening paragraph involves a catastrophic explosion.... Tonight is going to be a planning night I think. I've got the two main storylines worked out quite a way ahead but I need to break that down into chapter sized pieces, put the pieces in some kind of sensible order and then figure out what I need to do with sub-plots and different points of view. I may even get around to sketching out summaries of each chapter. Not saying more than that but I can promise you that I'm looking forward to writing up the rest of Project Moho! Edit: Just spotted Marcus's fan art. That's awesome! Heck there's even a strangely bright star in the view out of the window... << Chapter 17 :: Chapter 19>>

They may be peaceful explorers but they're still thundering into the heavens on a stack of rocket engines! Tell me that doesn't need some music to get the blood pumping. Great piece!

As folks on this thread have already said, there are no official plans for multiplayer, so anything along those lines is going to be community made. I have no idea about in-game rewards I'm afraid (other than the personal satisfaction of figuring out how to do something) but the next update is going to add science modules and a research tree. About long term motivation, it might be easier to think of KSP more as a LEGO set than a game. Sure, in the end it all comes down to building rockets, launching them, flying them to other planets/moons and landing. And with time all of that gets relatively routine (or so I'm told ) But - and it's a big but - there are so many ways of doing that and so much else you can do along the way. Some of it will be functional but a lot of it will be 'just because it looks cool' A couple of personal examples. Landing on the Mun is a fairly early milestone for a lot of KSP players and there a numerous guides out there for building a single rocket that will get you to the Mun and back, Apollo style. What you definitely don't need is to build a space station in Kerbin orbit, another one in Munar orbit, a nuclear powered shuttle to ferry crew between the two, a 5 kerbal lander for transporting crew from the Munar orbit station to the surface and finally, a simple transporter ship to get the crew up to Kerbin orbit. Likewise, you don't need (not yet anyway), communication satellites in orbit around the Mun and Kerbin to make sure the whole system hangs together. You don't need to send out your kerbals on a low orbit Munar reconnaisance flight to scout for interesting landing sites, or to have a cluster of navigation beacons waiting to be dropped in from orbit to mark those landing sites. (Actually that bit was before you could plant flags so its genuinely not required any more ) But you can build all of those if you like for no other reason than 'I think it looks cool to have this complete Munar transport chain in place, so I'm going to build it. And then do the same for Minmus ' And this is small beer compared to some projects on these forums. Entire bases on the Mun, floating cities on Laythe, historical recreations of entire space programmes, flying planes through the skies of Duna... The game really is what you make of it.

Hey Musicpenguin - thank you - and thanks for stopping by to comment! Everyone else - no comment I'm afraid, in case of spoilers Next chapter is up. We all build them - We all fly them The master alarm warbled in Wilford's ear as he stared in sudden horror at the constellation of warning lights on his instrument panel. Multiple failures across different unconnected systems, no obvious cause that he could see or feel - it just didn't make sense. C'mon Wilford, he told himself, you know this capsule. Figure it out. He toggled his microphone. “Control, Moho 3. I've got a serious problem here. Check that - serious problems." The radio hissed in his ear. Wilford went pale as yet more warning lights flickered on, indicating failures within the communication systems. Frantically he scanned the control panel, trying to find somewhere - anywhere - to start. He could feel the G forces wrenching him sideways against his seat and he knew the Moho 3 was tumbling out of control. “Control - I hope to Kerm you can hear me. I'm dropping the main stage to restore command authority." Unbelievably the radio crackled into life. “Negative, negative, Moho 3. Mode 1 abort! Mode 1..." It was too late. Auxiliary engines ripped off the sides of the booster, pinwheeling away into the sky and leaving ruptured fuel lines and torn mountings behind them. The main fuel tank creased and then crumpled under the offset forces, setting off a catastrophic series of explosions that raced up the booster towards the capsule. Wilford just had time to feel the flames licking against his legs before everything went mercifully black. Wilford sat bolt upright in bed, heart pounding and sweat pouring off him. For a moment he just sat there, shaking as the last minutes of the nightmare flashed before his eyes. He glanced over at the clock and groaned. Too early to be awake, too late to get back to sleep. Resignedly, he climbed out of bed. Might as well grab a cup of something hot he thought to himself. Hope nobody finished off the djeng sachets because this really is not the time for caffeine. He pulled on his clothes and padded down to the canteen. “Morning, Wilford" Startled, Wilford spun around to find Jeb regarding him knowingly from the corner of the room. “Jeb?" he exclaimed in bewilderment. “Worrying about the flight?" Wilford decided that this wasn't exactly the best moment to admit to having nightmares about the flight. “Yes," he admitted reluctantly. He opened the cupboard to look for a mug, glad that the cupboard door was hiding his face. “You want a cup of djeng too, Jeb?" “Just a black coffee for me if you don't mind." Jeb yawned. “Better make it a strong one too." The spoon clinked against the side of the mug as Wilford stirred his drink. He cautiously sipped it and added a dash more water, before topping off the coffee and carrying both mugs over to Jeb's table. Jeb swept his papers together and dumped them unceremoniously onto the chair next to him. Wilford caught a quick glimpse of an eclectic mix of pages from the flight plan, engineering notes and diagrams of various components of the Moho booster. Wilford took a long slow drink of djeng as Jeb watched him sympathetically. “It's going to be fine," he said firmly. “You're an excellent pilot, Wilford - heck I saw your simulation scores for manual re-entry and they were better than mine." Wilford blinked as he looked up from his mug. “Plus you'll have the entire team watching your back during the flight." Jeb smiled wryly. “Speaking from personal experience, there's nothing quite as reassuring as Genie's voice in your ear telling you 'we're working this but you're still Go', when you've got a panel full of lights telling you the exact opposite." Wilford still looked troubled. “I know, Jeb - I saw the flight control team in action and they were great. There's just not much they can do about..." Jeb interrupted him gently, “an exploding booster, cracked heatshield or stuck parachute?" Wilford nodded dumbly. Jeb took a swig of coffee. “All I can say is that everyone building the Moho 3 is sweating the details at least as much as the flight control team." He looked at Wilford thoughtfully. “I was watching Ribory and Seanan building the heat shield for Camrie's flight. Everything looked fine to me but Ribory had obviously spotted something. She drilled out the entire section of shield that she'd spent the last two hours on, picked up that caulking gun and just set to work again." Jeb swirled his mug absently as he went on. “I saw Ordun machining the mounts for the wiring looms for the Moho 3 and they were a work of art. Then he polished them just to make sure. I was curious because these were loom mounts for Kerm's sake - there was no need to make them to those tolerances, never mind shine them up to the point where you could use them as a mirror. Ordun just looked at me. 'There's a bunch of things that could go wrong with this machine, Jeb' he said 'but I can tell you that none of them are going to happen because of parts that I've made.'" Jeb looked intently at Wilford. “You know this already," he said “because you're no different. Everyone building these ships has that same attitude and it's a big reason why I - and probably Camrie too - climbed into that capsule." “We all build them, we all fly them," murmured Wilford. “Exactly," said Jeb. For a moment there was a faraway look in his eyes. “And it's because of that that I honestly believe that we'll get out there one day." Wilford saw the expression on Jeb's face. “To the stars?" he asked quietly. Jeb snorted gently. “Not unless somebody re-wrote the laws of physics whilst I wasn't looking, “ he said. “No, I was just talking about the planets. Duna, Jool, even Eeloo - we'll get to them all eventually. He grinned. “Just the planets? Trust me - there's plenty to keep us busy in the Kerbol system for now, without needing to find other stars to explore!" Wilford twisted his fingers together anxiously. “I want to see them too, Jeb, I really do. That's why I dropped my name into that basket. It's just that closer we get to launch day, the more the reality of how to get there has been weighing on me." Jeb nodded. “I'm not going to lie to you," he said, “At the moment, it's still a risky business. But when the recovery team fish you out of that capsule tomorrow and haul you up onto the boat, I'm going to be there asking you just one question; were the risks worth it? He looked at Wilford reflectively. “I think I already know the answer to that but right now, it might surprise you." Wilford was silent for a moment. “Jeb," he said tentatively, “Suppose we do manage to re-write the laws of physics one day. Would you climb on board that first starship?" “In a heartbeat, Wilford, in a heartbeat." Wilford pushed his chair back and got to his feet. “Thanks, Jeb. I'm going to take a shower and think things over."As he walked over to the door, a thought struck him. “By the way - how come you were down here this early too?" As he pushed the door open, Jeb's voice floated quietly across the room. “Why, for the same reason that you were, Wilford - for the same reason that you were." ------------- Wilford barely noticed the rapping on his helmet but managed a determined thumbs up as Bob squeezed his way out of the Moho 3 and sealed the hatch. He took a deep breath as he glanced round, making particularly sure that the abort handle was well within reach. Actually, after the hours spent he'd spent in the simulator, the entire capsule was remarkably familiar and Wilford was confident that he could pick out any control on any panel with his eyes shut. He steeled himself and flicked on the radio. “Moho 3 to Control. Hatch sealed, requesting primary comms check, over." Geneney's reply came back promptly. “Receiving you loud and clear, Moho 3. Please switch to backup antenna and repeat, over." As they worked through the pre-flight checklist, Geneney was reassured to hear the clipped radio messages from the Moho 3 become gradually less and less tense. That's it, Wilford, he thought, Just treat it like another sim and you'll be fine. For his part, Wilford was thinking the same thing. The interior of the Moho 3 really was almost like the inside of the Whirligig, the cool air blowing over this face from the environmental systems was at the perfect temperature and he knew from the relaxed tones of the flight control team that the countdown was going well. He could almost persuade himself that this was just another simulation. Almost. Then Geneney's report over the public address loop broke the spell. “T minus five minutes and counting. We have transferred power to the booster and the transfer is satisfactory." A shiver ran down Wilford's spine and he could feel his pulse begin to climb. Reflexively he checked the position of the abort handle again. C'mon Wilford, he told himself, “if you were going to duck out of this, you had your chance when you were talking to the boss this morning. “T minus two minutes and counting. Guidance control and launch sequencing transferred. Tank pressures nominal. Moho 3 - all systems are Go." He could hear the thumps and rattling outside as the umbilicals disconnected from the booster. He braced himself as the final moments of the countdown raced past in a flurry of systems reports. “T minus 40 seconds - we have launch commit. T minus 20. T minus twelve, eleven, ten, nine..." Wilford braced himself against his acceleration couch. “Ignition!... and lift off!" “Tower clear!" He could barely hear Geneney's voice over the noise of the engines but the instrument panel was reassuringly free of warning lights and the booster didn't seem to have bumped into anything. Wilford checked the readouts for the LV 905s but everything looked nominal. The familiar thunder of the LV-T20 filled his ears and the g-meter swung upwards as the pressure on his chest built up. Forty seconds into the flight, the Moho 3 went supersonic. Everything went suddenly quiet as the spacecraft raced ahead of the noise from its own engines. Wilford could hear the status reports from Mission Control, athough he could barely manage a grunt in reply as the rocket tore through the atmosphere. “Moho 3, your trajectory and guidance are Go." Inwardly, Wilford agreed. The booster was performing beautifully. The pitch and roll program had started right on schedule and according to the 'navball' attitude and direction indicator, he was right on course. Even the acceleration wasn't all that bad. In fact, compared to Tomcas's centrifuge, the real thing was positively benign. Slowly but surely, the tight knot in the pit of Wilford's stomach began to unwind, although he made a mental note to thank Geneney later for keeping everything businesslike and not filling the comms loop with excess chatter. “Moho 3, standby for LV9 shutdown and detach." Wilford tensed. This was where Jeb's flight had gone wrong, although he knew that Bill and Richlin had been working hard on redesigning the decoupler systems, particularly the synchronising trigger circuit that had failed during Jeb's flight. Everything had worked for Camrie's flight aboard the Moho 2 but even so, he was relieved when the sudden jolt and four sharp explosions from outside signalled the departure of the four lateral boosters. “Control, this is Moho 3. Clean shutdown and detach." Wilford was certain he could also hear a note of relief in Geneney's voice. “Copy that, Moho 3. We read all four boosters gone." Several long minutes after the lateral boosters fell away, there was another sharp crack from above, as the protective shroud over the capsule was jettisoned. Sunlight poured in through the window and Wilford got his first glimpse outside. “Hey it's getting dark out there!" Geneney chuckled. “Yep - you're starting to run out of atmosphere Wilford. Stand by for staging." Despite himself, the knot of tension inside Wilford was slowly turning into a knot of excitement. Only two other kerbals in history had even had a chance to see what he was about to see. He was suddenly very glad indeed that he hadn't ducked out of the flight and more than a little humbled at the thought of all of his friends and colleagues on the ground who had devoted themselves to giving him that chance. Especially when he hadn't done anything special to deserve it other than having his name drawn out of Jeb's old waste paper basket. As the last litres of fuel drained out of the main tank, he glanced over at the abort handle, silently praying that he wouldn't need to use it after all. The vibration from the LV-T20 disappeared as the first stage shut down. Wilford mentally crossed his fingers, as he watched the indicator panel. Then, suddenly, he sensed the explosion far below him as the main decoupler fired and the last but one light on the panel winked out. He jerked forward against his harness, only to be shoved firnly back into his couch as the second stage engine lit." “Control, Moho 3. Second stage ignition confirmed." The Moho 3 soared out of the atmosphere, now flying almost along the curve of the horizon as it climbed up to orbit. Inside the capsule Wilford barely noticed the long push from the LV-905. His attention was wholly focused on his instruments and the mission clock as the engine roared silently in the almost vacuum. Sunlight washed through the capsule window, throwing distracting, jagged shadows over the interior surfaces. For a moment Wilford was almost tempted to take manual control and roll the Moho 3 to one side. Something to bring up with the flight control team when I land, he thought to himself. “30 seconds to loss of signal, Wilford. Good luck." “Thanks, Gene. Everything's looking good up here. Better than good in..." Static buzzed from the radio as the Moho 3 flew over Barkton's radio horizon. Wilford switched it off and turned back to his instruments. Velocity was right on the calculated flight profile, fuel reserves were looking good, capsule attitude was holding steady. Then, with one final crack of pyrotechnic bolts, the second stage shut down and separated from the capsule. The final light on the indicator panel winked off as the automatic systems fired a burst from the RCS thrusters to pull the capsule safely away from the spent booster. Wilford blew out his cheeks in a great gusty sigh. He was in space. For a moment, he couldn't see a thing. Then the guidance system pitched the Moho 3 into its nose-down orbital attitude and Wilford 's breath caught in his throat as he got his first glimpse of his homeworld from orbit. Not even the pictures that Jeb and Camrie had brought back from their flights could compare to the real thing. The thin glowing line of the atmosphere around the edge of the planet seemed like a terribly frail barrier between his home and the harsh vacuum of space. And no cartographer's map or kerbonaut's camera could ever hope to capture the sheer iridescent colours of Kerbin so vividly. Looking back on his flight, Wilford would ruefully admit that it was just as well there were no flight plan objectives for that first orbit. He turned off the cabin lights and just sat transfixed as the familiar oceans and continents sailed past underneath him. As the Moho 3 sped towards the terminator, the colours of the landscape shifted subtly as the sky faded into twilight. Wilford watched in awe as the lights came on across Kerbin, from the faint but regular glow of the Kerm groves to the brilliant but scattered jewels of the larger kerman towns. Then, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realised that the stars were coming out around him, first in their thousands and then in their hundreds of thousands. For an all too brief time, Wilford floated serenely above the world as the Moho 3 raced around the night side of Kerbin. Then the stars began to fade and the first tentative fingers of dawn reached out across the sea. Moments later, a brilliant flare of light heralded Kerbol's emergence over the horizon and the ethereal beauty of an orbital sunrise shone through the capsule window. Wilford could just make out The Crater drifting past beneath him, the dawn light casting mountain sized shadows over the sea. He shook himself. If that was The Crater then he should be coming back into radio contact with the Space Centre any moment now. He clicked the radio on and Geneney's voice filled the capsule. “Control to Moho 3. Come in Moho 3." “Moho 3 to Control. Receiving you loud and clear, Control." “Good to hear you, Wilford. How's the ship?" “Perfect, Gene, just perfect." Wilford was silent for a moment. “Umm, I don't know if Jeb is in the bunker at the moment but you might want to tell him that the answer is a definite yes." “Ahh copy that, Wilford. Whatever that meant it sure put a big smile on Jeb's face. You might also want to keep your eyes peeled for a large thumbs up heading up to orbit." Geneney blinked in surprise as Wilford's laughter echoed over the radio. “Sounds like the perfect time to try out the RCS then, Gene, if I'm going to be making evasive maneuvers any time soon. Right - I've got the flight plan and checklists here. Rotation and attitude holding tests first. Switching to manual control." Neling keyed her microphone. “Looking good, Flight. SAS override is in, RCS on manual, point two clockwise roll initiated." “Wheeeee! Hey, Control this is super!" Geneney frowned and quickly flicked through to a separate channel on his console. “Flight to Capsule Systems. I need an atmosphere check Ribory." The reply was prompt. “My thoughts exactly, Flight but oxygen partial pressure is normal. I think we just have a very happy kerbal up there." “Thank you." Geneney switched back to the air to ground loop in time to catch the end of Wilford's comment. He still sounded elated, although thankfully, the slightly manic tone had disappeared. “Say again, Moho 3. We're getting some transmission noise here." “Copy, Gene. Roll thrusters performing nominally and I'm seeing zero offset rates on pitch and yaw. Cancelling roll now!" Wilford fired the anticlockwise roll thrusters, watching the navball and rate indicators closely. As the direction indicator showed him returning to level flight he deftly applied a tiny burst of additional thrust and released the controls. “Roll cancelled, Flight. Residuals are damping nicely. SAS to HOLD." “Understood. Proceed with pitch and yaw tests." The Moho 3 spun slowly through space, first about one axis then the other, before returning to its original orientation. On board, Wilford was jubilant. The RCS was performing far better than he had expected and his little craft was crisp and responsive to the controls. “Flight, this is Moho 3. Rotation and attitude hold tests complete. No problems moving between SAS modes either - whatever Bill did to the guidance system seems to have worked. Pass on my thanks to the Booth Crew too - this is a breeze after flying the Whirligig!" There was a pause. “My panel is clear, Control. Ready for orbit raising burn at next periapsis?" “Confirmed, Moho 3 and good luck. We're seeing all systems Go and forty seconds to loss of signal." The Moho 3 flew into darkness again but Wilford was too busy to look out of the window on this orbit. Deftly he worked the RCS controls, swivelling the capsule around with delicate bursts of monopropellant. Satisfied at last, he let the automated systems hold the spacecraft in its new orientation and waited for the clock to tick down. “Three, two, one and burning!" He pushed the handgrip firmly forwards, settling gently into his seat as all four RCS thrusters fired. The velocity indicator started to climb, as the Moho 3 pushed itself out onto a new orbit. Wilford kept the translation control pushed forward, one eye watching the velocity indicator, the other scanning the attitude rate indicators for any sign of trouble. “And shut down. RCS to auto. SAS override off." For a minute, Wilford wondered what he was doing, talking to himself over the far side of the world. Then he shrugged. Nobody was going to hear him after all and if it helped with the checklists then so be it. He checked the controls again. Everything looked fine but he would need to wait another forty minutes for the proof. As the Moho 3 raced into daylight once more, Mission Control were ready with the good news. “Nice burn, Wilford. We're tracking you in a 180 by 350km orbit, no change in inclination." “Not precisely what we had in mind, Gene," Wilford replied cheerfully, “but what's a couple of kilometres of apoapsis between friends." “Either way you've just set a new altitude record." Wilford laughed. “I suppose I have at that, although hopefully it won't be a record for very long. Oh wow - it's high enough to make a difference though! I'm seeing way more of Kerbin from up here. I hope the camera is working because this is spectacular!" “Well the good news is that you can enjoy the view for an orbit or two. Given that the RCS seems to be working so well, we've got a small experiment that we'd like to try. The flight dynamics teams are just running the numbers now." ----------- “OK, Wilford, we've got an unscheduled change for the flight plan. Ready to take this down?" “Ready and waiting, Gene." Wilford's mind raced as he jotted down the numbers. It was a straightforward attitude change but it would leave the Moho 3 in a slightly odd orientation in space. Shrugging slightly, he switched the spacecraft back to manual control and set to work. “And attitude hold. Not sure what I'm supposed to be doing here, Gene. Hang on a minute though - that's a pretty bright star..." Wilford blinked hard and peered intently at the blue-green speck floating in the middle of the capsule window. Then everyone in Mission Control heard the dawning realisation in his voice. “Ohhhh. That's no star, Gene! Minmus, repeat - I have Minmus!" In the background he heard the cheering from Mission Control and even over the radio he could sense the grin in Geneney's voice. “That was the plan. You've just made the flight dynamics team very happy indeed! So what does it look like from up there?" “Just a small greeny-blue dot to be honest, Gene. But dammit - Minmus. I can't believe I'm seeing it with my own two eyes!" ---------- Many hours and many orbits later, Wilford stretched, rolled his shoulders as best he could in the confines of his harness and pushed himself back into his couch. The flight had gone better than he had dared to hope, the capsule systems were holding up well and every objective on the flight plan had been neatly ticked off. Inclination changes, altitude changes at different orientations to test the RCS translation along different axes and best of all that naked eye observation of Minmus. There was just one task left to do. Working with practised ease, Wilford brought the Moho 3 into position for the final burn. He glanced at the navball one last time and carefully checked the periscope display, nodding in satisfaction to see Kerbin lined up neatly along the manual orientation reticle. Then once again, it was just a matter of waiting for the right moment. As the retrofire sequence began, Wilford smiled peacefully up at the window, taking in one last glimpse of the stars before they faded our behind a lambent curtain of ionised gas. He had just been where only two kerbals had ever gone before, he had seen things that no kerbal had ever seen before and now, he knew, he was going home. But he would be back. ----------- Several minutes later Jeb watched from the deck of the recovery boat as the familiar orange parachutes blossomed into the sky. “Good flight, Wilford," he murmured to himself, “good flight." << Chapter 16 :: Fan Art>>

Nice work!

What a great way to end the day. Going to bed now with a smile!

Lovely! I'm really liking this sudden surge of music threads on the Fan Works. Definitely time for a [Music] tag!

Heh - I know that feeling. Well not the school part but work definitely cuts into the writing time! It's a bit cliched but I find it useful to keep a notebook handy, so even if I'm not finding the time to actually sit down and write, I'm still managing to scribble down any new ideas for the story as and when I get them. It's amazing what having a spare hour on the morning commute can do.