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Laythe. A land of extremes. Slung around a far-away gas giant in the outer reaches of the Kerbol system, the ocean planet hangs in the cosmos as a jewel for colonization. Deep, expansive waters interrupted only by ignominious freckles of sand paint the planet a pastiche of the aquatic and the arid. Under a blanket of atmosphere, the world sits shrouded in clouds and mystery. It is the only other planet suitable for kerbal life. It will become home to one very lonely kerbal. The Kavalier Mk VI launches on a mission to land a kerbal on the water planet, Laythe. The first of many such missions to establish a foothold beyond Kerbin and the Mun. Steve thinks it’s enough to get there, land, and come back. But like so many times before, Steve is wrong. Everyone tells him so. The plan is to go and stay. To get there, the selected ship will burn to reach Kerbin escape velocity and establish a 100k orbit at 1535.5m/s. From there, the ship’s crew of three perform system diagnostics on orbit while waiting for their transfer window to Jool. The gas giant will take nearly three years to reach. Sonbart, Lodmin and Nellfurt, all of the Kerman family, are entombed…er, ensconced, in the habitation module of the nuclear powered Kavalier. As the transfer window approaches, a sense of giddy trepidation takes hold of the kerbals. They know they will finally be on their way. The burn goes as planned with only a minor correction needed after Lodmin spills dill-flavored crisps into the drop pod where Nellfurt, the pilot, performs the maneuver. Lodmin’s apologies are accepted by the rest of the crew, but only grudgingly as he ferrets out the bits of fried potato and salt from the console, consuming every piece he finds. Nellfurt quietly watches Lodmin finish ‘cleaning,’ then returns to his seat in the pod. This time, he closes the hatch behind him. Somehow, even now amidst the void, Nellfurt finds that he needs his space. Years later, Jool’s bright green slowly – finally - approaches the Kavalier. First, it seems a shiny star like so many others in the firmament. But each day, its character changes, revealing its deepening verdant expanse soon to engulf the horizon of the kerbals’ ship. There’s a strange sense of home in the presence of the giant, even though the intrepid explorers are now farther from their planet that any others have dared to travel. Despite its growing form, it takes a month for the ship and her crew to reach their designated maneuver point around Jool. After a short capture burn, the Kavalier crew decide to launch two probes to orbit the gas giant and provide data to the Laythe-bound craft. Unfortunately, the probes prove of limited use as someone forgot to attach communication relay devices to them. The crew blames Steve because everyone blames Steve. Because Steve sucks. That, however, won’t stop their mission. They’ve come too far. While the probes would have offered beneficial position, navigation and timing data to the Kavalier mothership, their inoperability only diminishes the signal the crew will rely upon for maneuvering the craft. Some signal is better than none…yet now, inexplicably, the spaceship’s impulse is none. With no way to control the ship, the Kerbals’ recent awe at the Joolian system soon turns to an awakening horror at the prospect of their orbit becoming a prison. Surely they won’t be destined to careen around Jool for eternity while in sight of their new home. But how, then, did they get here? Why no control now? They could control the ship for all the maneuvers until now. What changed? The four kerbals spread a large canvas of schematics over a table to consult. But as they pore over the diagram hypothesizing about disconnects in their remote guidance system, Nellfurt suddenly realizes that they never had one. He flew each maneuver from the drop pod, the ship’s only source of input, all the while assuming the remote guidance system was there waiting when they’d need it. Turns out, the same kerbal who forgot to attach antennae to the probes also forgot to attach the proper antenna to the Kavalier itself. And with no one currently in the drop pod to execute the transfer maneuver from Jool to Laythe, the Kavalier would remain without impulse. The crew exchange glances with one another. The ramifications are clear. They can continue the mission, but Nellfurt, the only pilot, will have to guide the Kavalier to Laythe via the drop pod. And if they decide to land on the planet, Nellfurt will be taking the single-seat craft to the surface, effectively removing the Kavalier’s legs. Lodmin and Sonbart will have to make the Kavalier home, just as Nellfurt does on the planet below. Or…they can return home together now, drop pod attached. Laythe could wait for another day to host a kerbal. They dismiss the thought, almost out of hand. The mission is to begin establishing a kerbal presence off Kerbin. Here they are. They might as well tuck in for the long haul. Besides, mission control should realize they haven’t heard anything from the antenna-less ship for years now and is mounting a rescue mission, right? Right? Sonbart runs the numbers and indeed, the transfer window back home is almost half a year away, and then the flight after that…well, they might as well stay. With that, Nellfurt executes the transfer to Laythe from the drop pod. A couple days later, once in a stable Laythe orbit, the kerbals commit. Crawling back into the hab one last time, Nellfurt hugs Sonbart and Lodmin and then recedes back to the pod. Lodmin comments that he’ll be just fine, that there are probably grains of sand down there more talkative than Nellfurt. In the pod, Nellfurt decouples from the Kavalier and plans his deorbit. His eyes catch a ring island impact crater. He aims for the center island and deorbits, carefully sailing past the now stranded Kavalier. Just above the far horizon, Sonbart and Lodmin watch as Nellfurt’s capsule twinkles in the atmosphere. The compressed air envelopes the drop pod in flame but the kerbals can only guess at their comrade’s fate. They hold their breath as the flicker slowly diminishes, wondering if they’ll ever see their quiet friend again. High above the center island, Nellfurt emerges from the roiling flames. The roar gone, he deploys the drogue chutes as he carefully guides the pod down. Too far in any direction and he’ll end up in the ocean. Even with his hands full piloting, the alien beauty of the place rising toward him is not lost on Nellfurt. This will be his home now. Until more kerbals arrive, he will have to do his best to not just survive but build. With no antenna, there’s no way to communicate with Sonbart and Lodmin in orbit, much less home. Nellfurt lands without incident... And begins his wait. Little does he or the rest of the Kavalier crew know that Kerbin has marshalled the efforts of every abled-body member of the their homeworld – even Steve - to speed another voyage to the Jool system. This time, though, communication considerations are built and launched first. The communication craft put in solar orbit bristles with antenna like some sort of void cactus. And yet, the true wonder is the landing base now hurling itself through space to reach Nellfurt and gang, nearly three years after their silent stranding. The kraken-like ship inserts itself into an aggressive Joolian capture only to sling out to Laythe nearly as quickly. Note the very prominent relay antenna crowing the ship. The maneuver takes the ship just close enough for an on-orbit rendezvous. Lodmin keeps fruitlessly trying to wipe his eyes as he makes his way from the tired Kavalier to the newly arrived colony ship. Sonbart follows. The Kavalier is now a ghost ship. Joy. Rendezvous complete. It’s time to bring home to Nellfurt. The colony ship soars through the upper atmosphere, angling to meet Nellfurt’s center island, partially hidden by clouds. The colonists can only wonder what their lone comrade, if he’s even alive, has been through on this tiny speck all these years. In the back of their minds, they acknowledge that soon enough, they’ll be just like him, for better or for worse. Importantly, however, they will have each other and comms with Kerbin. Lodmin and Sonbart are physically shaking to stretch their legs on firm ground and find Nellfurt. Parachutes deploy as the final maneuvers successfully vector the ship to the island. The retro landing boosters brace for impact. Once planetside, the colony ship’s struts extend in preparation for landing. Landing complete. The engines separate and the colony ship bounces to the Laythian surface. The colonists’ first official act on an alien world is to litter it with rocket refuse. Everyone on board cheers. They begin broadcasting their position loudly. Kerbin reads them. They are not alone. Meanwhile, Nellfurt, on the other side of the island, receives the signal through his very limited emergency receiver. At first, he stares, sure that this is another dream. But then, after pinching and slapping and holding his breath, he starts to shake. Someone is here. They sent someone. Or Son and Lod figured a way to deorbit and join him. Nellfurt sprints back to his pod. The drop pod, his only habitation, was obsessively maintained. Regular system checks, solar recharges, fuel line inspections and every battery of tests Nellfurt could conceive he employed to make sure his rig was ready for a moment like this. According to his readings, the signal is emanating from the far side of the island. Less than a day’s walk. No time for that. He seals the hatch and lights the engines. He should have enough fuel to do a quick bounce over the island’s central mountain to land on the far side beach. Unfortunately, Nellfurt’s excitement translates itself into the flight controls. The pod roars upward but in the wrong direction. Overcompensating, Nellfurt blasts toward the horizon, trading altitude for speed and direction. But he’s too aggressive. While his pod is now headed the right direction, it’s also much too low. The pod drills into the side of the mountain just as Nellfurt ejects and pulls his chute. Maybe a walk would be better after all. The crash. The ejection. The mysterious signal. Years of solitude. It’s all too much. Nellfurt feels the seams of reality fraying just as he reaches the top of the mountain. But then, the universe sutures itself. Nellfurt sees the source of the signal. A ship! Meanwhile, the colonists take stock of their surroundings. After some deliberation and finally a double dog dare, one by one they remove their helmets. Salty, yet satisfying. This wonderous moment is interrupted by another. In the distance, atop the massive central mountain, a feint figure appears against the sky. Nellfurt arrives at the colony ship. He’s greeted by cheers and a flock of comrades. Sonbart and Lodmin excitedly chatter at him. This time he chatters back. They ask for a tour of the island. It’ll have to wait, he smiles. Son and Lod exchange quizzical glances. Nellfurt needs one thing right now. He points to the colony ship. Enjoy the bed, Son and Lod tell him. We’ll stay out here. And so, the kerbals make Laythe home. This outpost will be joined by more, here on the island, across Laythe, and throughout the Joolian system. The kerbals are here to stay. In years to come, the original 8 colonists of Laythe are memorialized for their audacity to plant roots so far from home. In so doing, they brought that precious concept to a band of terrestrial and orbital survivors. They brought them home. Also, don’t forget antennae. You want ghost ships? Because that is how you get ghost ships.

OwO o no The Kraken has struck. The tentacles have pulled apart your Jool-bound ship. What do you do now? me? I harness the power of Lucida Sans, and the godly font saves me from oblivion. *beautiful chanting to the one true font*