KSK

Heh, indeed. Although I have to confess to channelling McCaffrey here rather than Jordan or King. Have your world ending catastrophes happen just far enough apart that by the time one comes around, the preceding one is more myth than history - or has been reduced to catechisms to be learned by rote without really pondering the meaning behind them. ‘Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.’ (George Santayana-1905)

Minor nitpick that (hopefully) makes your point even more forcefully. That was Elon talking about the current iteration of Falcon Heavy without crossfeed. Adding crossfeed to the mix... well I'm guessing there's a reason (or more likely, many reasons) why they shelved that plan. To paraphrase Tom Mueller: "When you light those engines, about a thousand things could happen. One of those things is a successful launch."

Thanks! For better or for worse, it sounds like the last chapter hit all the intended notes with you! I'm very curious to find out what you'll make of the next couple of chapters - and the rest of the story for that matter. Exact details are still in flux (and I wouldn't want to post any spoilers in any case) but I think 'something drastic' is a reasonable two word summary. Incidentally, the Age of Prosperity (although there's an argument for calling it the First Age of Prosperity) was the direct precursor to the Age of Sail. In any case, it was an Age in which the new institutions and social structures created in the aftermath of the Age of Madness became thoroughly embedded in kerbal society - so much so in fact, that they're very largely what present day kerbal society is based on. A wave of Groves spread across the land, driven by the more or less peaceful expansion of Kerm, kerman and kermol populations. The last great Seeding of the Age nearly led to a Second Age of Madness due to a shortage of land for planting new Groves but fortunately for the kerbals there was new land a plenty across the seas. Driven by dire need, the Age of Sail began with an explosion of technical and scientific progress in seafaring, navigation, astronomy and any number of related disciplines. However the resultant land grab race by the proto-nations of Kerbin, nearly ended in open warfare. It took the founding of the Council of Twelve Pillars (led by a visionary leader named Jebediah Kerman) and the signing of the Bill of Land to stave off disaster. The Age of Sail segued into the Second Age of Prosperity - which once again seemed set to end in Kerm overpopulation and another Age of Madness. Once again dire need drove an outpouring of scientific and technical progress and the so-called Age of Fire began with another great leap for kerbal society - the development of spaceflight and the founding of the Kerbal Space Program. Only time will tell whether this Age will be a second Age of Sail across the new oceans of space - or a descent into the Second Age of Madness.

Soooo - is Jeb gonna get his four whole fried chickens and a Coke then? Thank you for some much needed grins today!

Next chapter is up... Darkness falls “I’m fine, Meleny. The tingling has stopped, the punctures aren’t weeping as much and even the swelling is going down.” Meleny rolled her eyes. “Certainly. You just look like you have a sockful of tubers under your skin rather than a basket load of breadfruit. And changing your dressings twice a day rather than four times a day is real progress. It’s been over a week, Jonton - you are not fine.” Jonton rubbed his one, fully open, eye, unable to hide a wince as still-tender skin shifted under his bandages. Spots of blood bloomed on the dressings over his other eyelid. He ducked his head, unable to face Meleny’s look. “What about Joenie and Jonelle?” he said. “Joenie can’t understand why you haven’t been to the medical centre already,” Meleny replied, a touch of asperity in her voice. “As for Jonelle - if you’re even thinking about trying to Commune with her, then you’re a bigger fool than I thought.” Meleny eyed the droplet of fresh blood trickling down Jonton’s eyelid. “And believe me, that’s quite a trick right now.” Jonton spooned up the last of his soup and pushed his bowl away. “We’ve been here before. Communion is not what I meant and you know it.” Under the bandages his skin turned pale. “I close my eyes to sleep and all I see are two bodies wrapped in Kerm vines or worse.” Jonton took a deep, shuddering breath. “I was sleeping better after Elton’s Shattering. I can’t leave Joenie alone with her, Meleny - I just can’t. “Oh we’ve definitely been here before,” said Meleny. “And nothing’s changed. I’ll stay here and look after Joenie. She’ll enjoy helping me with Katisa and Edbas isn’t afraid to come and play with her. Enely will look after Gerselle and Jonelle.” She ignored Jonton’s flinch. “Neither of us will let Joenie into Gerselle’s sleep room alone, or let her climb Jonelle outside. She’ll be fine.” Meleny threw up her hands. “And Pillars preserve me, it might even persuade Enely to stop tiptoeing around you. He’s worse than Fredlorf was, the one time I left him to hold Katisa for a minute.” Jonton sighed. “Yes, not having Enely walking on eggshells around me would be nice.” He reached for Joenie’s old curly-straw cup and took a long slurp of sapwood and milk. “They’ll want to know what happened though,” he said at last. “I can hardly tell them I was attacked by a Kerm.” “We’ve been here before too,” said Meleny. “Tell them you were bitten by something and got a bad reaction. For all we know that may not be far off the truth.” Jonton summoned up a rueful smile “I’d hate to see the insect that did this,” he said. Even to himself, the joke sounded flat. He rolled the end of his straw between finger and thumb, rocking the cup back and forth across the table. “Will you be alright here, if Enely drives me over? What if…” He broke off at the sight of Meleny’s patient expression. “You’ll be fine,” he murmured. “You, Joenie, Edbas and Katisa. Just fine.” As if in reply, Meleny’s midriff squirmed and a tuft of downy hair appeared over the seam of her poncho opening. Meleny dipped a finger into her pouch, smiling as it was promptly grabbed by a tiny hand and popped into a tiny toothless mouth. Presently, small, chirruping snores began drifting upwards. Despite himself, Jonton’s answering smile turned into a grimace, fresh spots of blood appearing on the other side of his dressings. Maybe I do need to get this looked at. “I’d better go and find Enely and Joenie,” he said resignedly. “And then think about packing a bag.” —————— “So - what seems to be the problem?” Jonton resisted the urge to describe a wholly fictitious broken toe and settled for giving the medic a slightly incredulous look. “I’m not sure,” he replied carefully. “I think something may have bitten me but I’ve never had this kind of reaction to a bite before. I was hoping it would go down on its own and it has a little bit but…” The medic nodded. “Have you taken anything for it?” “I tried greenwort tea for the first day,” said Jonton. “That didn’t have any effect so I left it for a day and started taking anti-inflammatories instead.” He took a half-empty pack of tablets out of his pocket with an apologetic look. “These ones - I’m not much good with medical names. Anyway, they just made me nauseous.” The medic glanced at the packet and made a note on his pad, a crease appearing on his brow. “Did you get any other side effects. Sweating palms? Intimate rash?” Jonton shook his head. “No, just the nausea.” He tapped his swollen cheek. “Which wasn’t a great deal of fun I can tell you.” “I’m sure it wasn’t,” said the medic. He unpicked the knot of fabric at the base of Jonton’s neck. “Now, I’m just going to take these bandages off and have a look underneath. Just tell me to stop if it gets too painful.” The first layer of bandage unwound easily. Jonton gritted his teeth as the second layer peeled away, breaking open the scabs on his injured eyelid. Pus trickled over the corner of his mouth, nearly making him gag. The medic pulled away the final, bloody swathe of fabric, flinching at the sight of the rank and sodden dressings underneath. Eyes screwed up against the pain, Jonton didn’t notice. “Okay, I’m just going to tip you back a bit. With a hiss of compressed air, the chair back tilted flat. The medic fastened an absorbent drape around Jonton’s neck. “Normally this might sting a bit but I think these are about ready to fall off on their own.” He slipped on a pair of gloves and gingerly peeled up the corner of one dressing. “Easy does it - and there you go.” He dropped the pad onto a tray with a faint thud and turned to the next one. “Well something got you real good. I’m going to take a couple of samples for the lab but right now, I think we’ll let one of our Kerm take a look at you.” The medic dabbed at Jonton’s face with a damp surgical sponge and noticed the flicker cross his patient’s face. “Sorry about that - nearly done. Okay, I’m just going to tip you back up again.” The chair hissed again, lifting Jonton into a sitting posture. “If you could just hold this here and here and follow me please.” Jonton followed him into an airy, pleasantly lit room. One corner was wholly occupied by a section of Kerm trunk, it’s branches spreading across the ceiling. A wedge shaped sweetmoss pool surrounded by well-tended grass borders took up much of the floor space. The medic pointed towards a curtained off enclosure, its plastic drapes looking distinctly incongruous against all the greenery. “Please could I ask you to shower and change before getting into the pool. You’ll find everything you need inside the cubicle.” Several minutes later, a damp and faintly pine-scented Jonton emerged from the shower clad in a pair of loose fitting shorts. He slipped into the sweetmoss pool and stared up through the Kerm branches, feeling his pulse begin to pound. “There’s a set of steps just under the water if you need to brace your feet against anything.” The medic was lying on a slim futon bed, head resting under one of the larger Kerm leaf clusters. “I’ll be with you in a couple of minutes. Try and relax - the healing vines might tickle a little but they’re nothing to be afraid of.” He smiled. “Although I’m surely not telling the Sage of Barkton anything new there.” Jonton swallowed hard. Images of swarms of needle sharp teeth slashing dripping white tendrils across his face raced through his mind,. His pulse throbbed painfully against his skull, fresh blood beginning to well up through the open wounds in his forehead. When the vines brushed against the side of his head it was all he could do not to scream. They crept over his swollen face, probing delicately at his injuries. A choking gust of cinnamon billowed from the ceiling. The vines whipped back, slicing through the water and dragging clumps of moss with them. Jonton barely had time to turn his head before dozens more vines erupted all around him, glistening tendrils exploding from their tips. Jonton’s feet spasmed, mashing his toes into the pool steps. White fire shrieked up his legs and settled in his guts like a ball of hot, liquid lead. His vision blurred, became a darkness fringed tunnel, shadows from the thrashing vines more sensed than seen. There was a terrified cry from somewhere behind his head and then everything went black. He awoke to silence and a screaming pain in both feet. Shaking, he hauled himself out of the pool and collapsed face-down on the grass. “What in the seven smoking hells just happened?” Jonton lifted his head and saw a very pale around the eyes medic staring back at him. “Never known anything like it, never heard of anything like it before!” Jonton rolled onto his back. A part of him heard hurried footsteps and a door slamming. A distant voice in the back of his mind shouted at him to get up before it was too late, to escape while he still could. Moving, though, seemed like an impossible task, let alone the brain-tangling complexities of getting dressed. He heard door hinges squeak and much more measured footsteps coming towards him. One kerbal or two? Did it matter anyway? —————— Jonton awoke and promptly screwed his eyes shut against a glaring white light. He tried to sit up only to find his limbs unable to move. Crying out, he thrashed against his bonds, back arching in desperation, He sensed the room lurch around him, felt himself tipping sideways before something righted him with a thump. “Hold still. Unless you want a splitting headache on top of your other troubles.” Jonton opened his eyes, squinting against the glare. A syringe filled with a pale, straw-coloured liquid floated just out of reach. “Kerm vines… attack…let me go!” He jerked his hands back and forth, struggling to break free. ”Let me go!” A pair of hands clamped around his wrists. “Take it easy now, sir. You’re safe here - no need for all that.” “And lucky to be alive,” said the medic flatly. “I want some answers. Now.” “Where am I?” “You’re in the Blight trauma ward and about this far from being hauled up before the district Enclave unless I get a real good explanation for what just happened. So talk.” Jonton rolled his head to one side, dislodging a padded bolster from under his neck. The medic sat opposite him, a grim look on his face. A large kerbal dressed in the white uniform of a hospital orderly, tucked the bolster back into place. “No need for that either, sir,” he said. “We can get you off that gurney and into somewhere more comfortable once you’re done talking.” Jonton talked. Hesitantly at first but gradually the familiarity of his story took over and he recovered some semblance of eloquence. The medic sat spellbound through his descriptions of Elton, a florid medley of emotions crossing his face as the story of Jonelle’s awakening unfolded. He sat back in his chair and regarded Jonton at length. “I don’t know whether to applaud you or have you locked up.” The medic shook his head in bemusement. “Either way, that… explains a lot. The attack by your partner’s Kerm… sorry, Jonelle must have marked you with something that sent mine into a real fighting panic. Which sort of makes sense if the first part of your story is right - any kerbal marked by one Kerm would likely be seen as a serious threat by other Kerm. Good thing you were in the pool - the moss probably slowed the vines down some.” He shivered. “Bought me enough time to stop it killing you maybe.” A chill ran up Jonton’s spine. The medic shivered again. “It’s as well I’m not a drinking kerb. If you ask me, a story like that is better remembered through the bottom of a bottle. A very strong bottle.” He visibly pulled himself together. “Anyhow, what to do with you, since setting a Kerm to heal a Kerm sting plainly isn’t going to work.” The medic’s eyes lost their focus for a moment. “We do have some options there but I’m afraid I’m going to have to keep you in under observation for the duration.” Jonton sat bolt upright, fists clenched. “How long?” he asked harshly. “I don’t know. You’ll need a full diagnostic workup to start with - the samples I took won’t be nearly enough.” The medic’s voice wasn’t unsympathetic. “After that - it’s too early to tell I’m afraid but at least a week, probably more. I know you’re worried about leaving your daughter for so long but I think you’ll just have to trust your friends to look after her.” He saw the appalled expression on Jonton’s face and offered him a bleak look in return. “You’re going to be our test subject my friend. I hope to the First Council that I’m wrong but something tells me that you won’t be the only Kerm-stung kerbal I have to treat before all this is done.” —————— In a remote valley, tucked away beneath the Trencher mountains of Southern Veiid, a kerbal watched two figures approaching across the scrubland. The distant streak of greenery around the narrow watercourse winding down from the foothills contrasted vividly with the sparser ground cover beyond and then the ochres and russets of the Hook escarpment curving around the horizon. A thin, keening wind stirred up the dust, piling it against boulders and boots alike. The figures drew closer, close enough to be recognised and moving more cautiously now, disappearing behind a tussock of coarse grass here, a rocky outcrop there. The watching kerbal unfolded a cloth and draped it over the the lip of the cave entrance, it’s white on black bisected circle logo standing plain against the orangey stone. She saw one of the figures pointing, then they both veered towards her, no longer bothering with the sparse cover. The soft crunch of leather on gravel announced their presence as they rounded the final bend of the trail and ducked into the cave beside her. She rolled up the cloth and tucked it away in her pack. “You took your sweet time getting back. Boss is starting to get restless.” “He’s going to get even more restless when he hears that we’re boxed in.” The scout upended his water bottle, swishing the meagre mouthful of water around his mouth before swallowing. “New Groves planted right up to the foothills and beyond. Overlapping too, near as we could tell on foot - not that there’s much around here for the Blight to ruin.” “Planted in a tearing hurry by the looks of it,” his companion added. “No kermol at all over yonder,” he pointed at the Hook, “and precious few at the next nearest Groves neither. We did see one patrol though, heading north. Kerm knows what the poor beggars did to draw duty at the armpit end of Veiid.” “Can we get through the mountains?” “Not with the supplies we’ll have left by the time we catch up with the boss. The nearest pass is about half a day away but the way in is blocked by another Grove. Couldn’t find anything else within striking distance.” The watcher shaded her eyes and squinted at the distant Hook. “But yonder Grove lies unguarded?” The scout nodded. “Then its fate is sealed.” She picked up her pack and slipped noiselessly out of the cave. The two scouts looked at each other wordlessly, then followed her. Kerbol was low in the sky by the time the three scouts reached a fringe of stunted trees clinging to the mountainside. Two other members of their party stepped out from the shade and watched them approach. One of them opened her mouth to speak before catching sight of the almost identical expressions on their faces. She slung her weapon over her back with suddenly trembling hands and quietly fell in behind the scouts as they marched past. The setting sun turned the campsite into a maze of knife edged shadows. The row of tents arrayed at the edge of the clearing lurked under the trees, doors yawning open to reveal ill-defined shapes inside. The loose semi-circle of stones in front of the tents resembled a set of giant’s teeth, crooked and worn from overuse. A white box, its lid marked with the bisected circle emblem of the Children of Kerbin rested beside one of them, As the scouting party emerged from the trees, the kerbals sitting atop the stones stopped talking and looked up from their seats. “Well?” One of the kerbals got to his feet. “You’re late. Explain.” The first scout gave a succinct summary of their expedition. “No way through? Not even across the mountains? No.” Their leader smiled. It was not a pleasant smile. “I believe the cowards leave us little choice then.” Two of the other Children leaned forward expectantly, an unhealthy sheen in their eyes and spots of dark green flaring on their cheeks. Their leader reached under his poncho and withdrew a small Kerm wood disc on a simple chain. “I have made the pilgrimage,” he said softly. “I have travelled to Kolus and consulted the Sage. I have seen our history - and it is on our side. On the side of all true heirs to the kerm..olia.” He licked his lips, voice caressing the final syllable. “We are warriors for our Kerm my brothers and sisters. Its roots will be more cunning and…” He bared his teeth, any pretence at a smile vanishing. “Its kerbals will be the stronger.” A feverish buzz of anticipation greeted his pronouncement. The scout bowed his head in acceptance, then looked up, emotions locked away behind walled up eyes. “When?” “We travel in the cool of the night. We plant our Kerm at dawn.” —————— Kerbol rose over the Hook, bathing the empty village in gold. A Kerm sapling stood alone in the centre of the village square, leaf clusters unfurling to greet the new day. The scout stared at it, the mask-like expression on his face slipping for an instant, revealing the roiling stew of emotions beneath. He gripped his spade, taking what reassurance he could from the smooth timber of its handle. The other Children clustered around him, their leader standing alone before them, white box by his feet. He bent down, lifted out a large yellow and brown mottled gourd, and held it aloft. A whiff of cinnamon graced the morning air, pungent even at a distance and the scout’s nostrils twitched. His leader placed the gourd back in its cooler, picked up his own spade and slung it across his shoulder. “Today we are kermolia. Today we fight for our Kerm.” The Children fanned out across the deserted village square, surrounding the sapling in a precise circle. Their leader lifted his spade over his head in a two-handed grip, before stabbing it into the ground, levering out a clod of dense gritty soil that crumbled as it fell. Emboldened, the other Children followed his lead, spades rising and falling in unison, the scrape of steel against hardscrabble loud against the desert quiet. The scout dragged his blade through the grit, eyes fixed on his feet. Its just another tree, Chop the roots, pull the stump and we’re done. But it isn’t just a tree, whispered another voice in the back of his head. And warriors - hah. You know enough Old Kerba to put the lie to that. Kermolia weren’t warriors - they were protectors. He dropped his spade, lifted his head and stared at the sapling, mask falling away from his face. Behind him, a ring of uplifted blades gleamed in the dawn sun… The blades came down. Chopping through the hardscrabble, shearing through roots and fibres, the blades came down. And the vines rose. Screaming, the scout turned to run but a wiry something whipped around his ankle, pulling his foot out from under him. He rolled upright, spitting gravel as he tried to scramble to his feet. Then the vines came down and everything went black. —————— The Veiidan patrol returned the next day. They wondered at the criss-crossing of animal tracks leading towards the village. Then they rounded the corner, looked out across the village square and wondered no more. A pack of desert dogs fled yelping, leaving their half-finished meal behind. An insistent warbling drone filled the air, dense clouds of insects crawling over oozing fibres and splintered Kerm roots and swarming over the hideously swollen figures sprawled in the dirt. Three members of the patrol turned away retching. Their leader stared in stunned disbelief, the blood draining from his face. He walked forward, outstretched fingers reaching for a toppled branch and its clusters of glossy green leaves. A stray fly buzzed into his open mouth and he spat it out, oblivious to the sounds of vomiting behind him. Then he saw - truly saw - the bodies beneath the leaning trunk and the thin, corded vines speared through the writhing black carpets that covered them. His gorge rose, disbelief turning to fear laced with sick despair. Stiff-legged, he turned away from the devastation and marched over to the nearby radio hut, the message that would shatter his world already churning through his head. << Chapter 80 Chapter 82>>

Apart from all the good reasons pointed out above, Apollo 10 was only the second ever flight to the Moon and there were still a ton of things to test and objectives to meet before the mission planners would have been anywhere near confident in a lunar landing attempt. Also Mission Control wasn't anywhere near ready for a landing attempt with Apollo 10. Training for the landing was hard - the final powered descent to the surface involved a whole lot of critical go/no go decisions happening very quickly. It took the flight control teams a long time to strike the right balance between taking too many risks and putting the crew into an unrecoverable position, and being too cautious, so calling an abort on what would have been a good landing attempt. If anyone's curious, I can thoroughly recommend reading NASA's Apollo flight journals - the one for Apollo 10 is here. It really drives home the sheer amount of detail involved in flying to the Moon, the sheer amount of stuff the crew had to do - and the very large disconnect between doing it in reality and doing it in KSP.

OK, that's not good. And somehow diligently and tirelessly reminds me very much of the strong and stable slogan of the last UK election...

I wouldn't be wanting a 26 oz flu. Dat be a lot of mucus yo. On a more serious note though - if I have any leave left to take by then, I may just have a geek day off. It's not like I'd get much done anyway with all the anticipation. The best part is that my boss probably wouldn't be remotely surprised if I told her exactly what I was doing.

I don't miss a thing about the forum prior to this one. It was a pug ugly mashup of glaringly obnoxious whitespace and poor layout that also managed to mangle a significant number of my posts by a) splurging control characters all over them and b) breaking internal links. For a forum ostensibly aimed at mobile users it offered a distinctly sub-standard mobile experience and I personally found it lacking in many ways compared to the previous forum. Happily the latest update is a just a re-skin (so far as I know) and hasn't re-mangled my posts. Quite how it's contrived to be even uglier than the last one boggles my mind however. Did someone fire a bunch of paint-soaked Nerf darts at a screen and plonk down a UI element over each mark or something?

No - I don't miss the old layout at all. Its only saving grace is that the new layout is even worse.

Agreed. Then have a think about font sizes, default fonts and margins across the whole forum. At the moment we have margins and fonts that manage to make everything look cramped despite the acres of whitespace around them and a layout that highlights trivial things (like post counts on a thread) in great big letters, whilst putting important things (like breadcrumbs and other navigation links in little tiny letters. Then we have a badly thought out menu structure at the top with... you guessed it, more wasted space, and an utterly pointless and space-consuming forum stats and member list at the bottom. Unless the forum has a hidden chat feature that I'm not aware of, in which case being able to see who's on in real-time might be at least somewhat useful. I thought things couldn't get much worse after the last forum 'upgrade'. I thought wrong.

I disagree. We've already got engines that run on fuel+oxidiser, engines that run on fuel alone, engines that run on fuel but only work in an atmosphere and engines that run on monopropellant. I don't think another fuel type is going to be any big deal. Especially in stock where pretty much all the real-life challenges and compromises involved with using hydrogen as a fuel are abstracted away or not in the game at all. We'd likely end up with a couple of extra hydrolox tanks that are more expensive than regular LF-O tanks (because cost is about the only relevant trade-off in stock) and that either only work with specific engines (no big deal, we're used to that from the monoprop engines) or work with any engine you like. In which case the added complexity would basically boil down to 'pay more for premium fuel that boosts your ISP'. I'm pretty sure most players could handle the challenge. I'd say the real reason for not including another fuel type is that its mostly pointless in the stock game because the rest of the game isn't set up to provide any sort of meaningful trade-offs between fuel types.

I'll see what I can do. Although in deference to the new forum eyestrain colour scheme, I trust everyone will be fine if I post the next chapter in a very pale grey text? Dear Kerm above...

Sigh. New forum - same as the old forum but now with 154.3% extra fugly and a side order of extra-pointless whitespace.

This was my first thought too. Even assuming an interplanetary civilization capable of doing it, I can't see much reason for colonizing Saturn itself. Colonize it's moons perhaps or stick an orbital colony out there. Possibly have a vehicle capable of flying through Saturn's upper atmosphere and returning to orbit, for running tourist flights. I can certainly imagine it being a spectacular trip (very atmospheric haha) - I just don't see a lot of point in a permanent sky colony.

Hey folks. I usually try not to spin out too many progress reports in lieu of actual updates but I'm also conscious that it's been a month since the last chapter and that I'm unlikely to be posting the next one until the weekend at the earliest. So with that in mind, I just want to say that the next chapter is drafted and that my Good Editors have done their usual sterling work in kicking around the rough draft and reporting back on which bits fall off, smell dodgy, wobble, clank, and in general need to either be tied on more securely, or left by the side of the road somewhere to rust in peace. The good(?) news is that it's shaping up to be quite a hefty piece - so much so that I've actually split it in two to save you all wading through too many section breaks. Rewriting is in progress. And last but not least - welcome to the thread @SpaceN00b. Thank you so much for the stream of likes - there are so many different things rolled into this story now other than spaceflight (some further out in the weeds than others) and it's always tremendously heartening when someone just motors through the lot!

Ohhh - I like the version numbering. Never spotted that before. You reckon they could maybe borrow the Map Screen icons from KSP (or, gosh, make up their own) and paint them on the side of the booster to record successful missions. So when you see a booster with a couple of wee capsules and three or four satellite icons painted down the side, you know it's really put in the hard yards. I was going to make a snarky comment about painting airplane icons being a bit cheaty but yeah, well... *cough*

Yup - but as somebody already pointed out, a heat exchanger system will have similar thermal limitations to an NTR, so you're not gaining that much of a power advantage. I'm also curious as to how much the reactor for an NTR would actually weigh? Some of the later designs were pretty light as I recall. Mind you that does mean that you're left with a choice of powering your spacecraft by death rays or nukular reactors, so either way the popular press is going to have a field day. The way around those thermal limitations of course, is to go for some kind of external pulsed propulsion but as already mentioned, I think those have some problems, or at the least, some very interesting engineering trade-offs to consider.

I love the cute pictures, especially the one of mini-Skylon being zapped by an off-screen Death Star. Where exactly are those lasers coming from? I have many, many questions about the technical viability of laser launch, let alone whether its ever going to be economically or politically viable. A laser launched spacecraft is still going to need a lot of propellant. A PLPR arrangement only works in atmosphere and only gets you moving so fast. Once you've left the atmosphere you still need a lot of delta V to get to orbit and you've just run out of air to use as propellant. A heat exchange engine is a conceptually simple solution but then you have two engine types on the same vehicle, not to mention the fact that a launch laser optimized for PLPR may not be optimized for running a heat exchanger. I guess you could keep your PLPR arrangement and use it to vaporize ejected propellant but that's going to be horribly inefficient. Assuming that you can reliably vaporize all your propellant, you've got no nozzle to speak of to efficiently transfer the momentum of your vaporizing propellant to the spacecraft. [Orion was (apparently) going to get around this by using shaped nuclear charges and by wrapping those charges in a good thick layer of propellant.]. Then there's the question of propellant choice. The article asserts that laser launch won't require volatile liquid propellants but it will almost certainly be using liquids of some sort. Solid propellant is going to be a nightmare as any chemical engineer who's had to move powders around will tell you. (Not to mention the fact that your powder dispenser has just had a good hard shaking) Make the 'powder' grains big enough to handle easily and you're left with the problem of reliably focusing enough laser energy on them to vaporize them quickly enough. All in all, it seems to me that laser launch is much like air launch in many ways. Superficially attractive but as soon as you leave the atmosphere you hit all the same mass problems that rocket designers have struggled with since the start of the Space Age, and which the article conveniently hand-waves away.

I'm not sure if 'like' is at all the right word but please carry on writing!

As a creative, generally polite and civilized, fun gaming forum - yes I do believe in the KSP community. As a group of spaceflight enthusiasts - yes I do believe in the KSP community. It's just the notion that gaming and enthusiasm for spaceflight automatically translates into special competence at spaceflight that I have a problem with.

With some notable exceptions, I doubt it. Most of the KSP community knows about the rocket equation. Possibly. Or they'll just rely on KER to tell them the numbers. If they bother using numbers at all and aren't just relying on the good old-fashioned moar boosters and moar struts approach to rocket building. Likewise, take away the Map screen and most of the KSP community would never leave low Kerbin orbit. After all this is a community which will reliably get itself in a knot over the mere mention of the dread beast Realism. Tell the KSP community to put a V2 together from scratch (using a rocket that was demonstrably part of the state of the art in the early 1950s) and I doubt they'd do any better (and probably a lot worse) than a hobbyist rocket club, or a university engineering department, or any other group of motivated, practically minded people.

Well there are a handful of new crewed vehicles supposed to be launching over the next few years. SpaceX's Crew Dragon, Orion and Boeing's CST-100. Mind you - if you hear a sonic boom from any of them, then something's probably gone badly wrong. Orion will almost certainly be going around the Moon and there are apparently plans for Crew Dragon to do the same (how advanced or realistic those plans are I couldn't say), so you may get to see a couple of Moon flights over the next few years as well. A sustained crewed program beyond low Earth orbit? Personally I doubt it, unless NASA suddenly gets the political clout and funding to do anything serious with SLS, or some of Elon Musk's wilder ideas come to pass. Which of those scenarios is most likely (or least unlikely), I'll leave as an exercise for the reader.