Reaching for the stars

[The Optimist]

Prologue

The Space program's director stood up and cleared his throat.

"Ever since Kerbalkind first saw the stars, it captivated them. The shining points in the sky, each possibly hosting planets and unimaginable wonders. They were an impossible goal, and we were resigned to the bonds of gravity. But not anymore. With your funding and support, we will send a kerbal into space! To the Mun! TO EXPLORE THE GALAXY!!!" Gene pounded the podium."CAN WE GET THERE? HELP US!".

Three bored kerbals stared back at him inside the small conference room. After a prolonged silence, one raised his hand.

"Yes, Walt?" asked Gene.

"Well, let's just say... If you presented that at the shareholder's meeting, we would have a bit of a problem, especially since there's going to be a metric ton of reporters there." Replied Walt, the PR guy of the fledgling space program.

"What do you mean?" Questioned Gene

"Well, I'm picturing a newspaper headline saying "Crazy Astronaut Fanatic has heart attack"."

Gene sighed, and buried his head in his hands."You're right. Maybe this 'space program' thing is just a stupid idea.

"No, that's not what I mean! The speech just needs a bit of a change, right?" said Walt.

Gene looked up. "You're right, actually. I'll edit the speech tonight! We can do it!"

One of the other kerbals raised his hand.

"What?" asked Gene

"Well", replied Mort, who set aside his calculator. "We have 7000 bucks left, and I don't think we can afford too much more campaigning."

"Don't worry. We can do this!" Replied Gene confidently.

*One week later*

"NO WE CAN'T DO THIS" Gene yelled "THE %$#* PR STUNT WAS A %#$* DISASTER!"

"We found an independent investor." Mort Kerman replied timidly.

"NO YOU DIDN- wait what?" Gene's face suddenly lit up. "A independent investor you say? WE'RE SAVED! What's his name?"

Nervously, Mort replied."Well, the company's... Jeb's Junkyard. And the owner wants to be an astronaut"

Just that moment, the sound of a propeller was heard.

"I thought this was private airspace... You've sold our land, haven't you, Mort." Gene said dejectedly.

Mort, who looked just as surprised, replied. "I would have, but we got a sponsor! He shouldn't be here yet!"

Before Gene could digest the meaning of this statement, there was a muffled thump, and the roof of the small building collapsed.

"What in the-" Gene coughed.

"WOOHOO!" yelled an unfamiliar kerbal, draped in a small parachute. "LET'S EXPLODE ROCKETS!"

"His secretary told me about this" Mort sighed, trying desperately to hide the smile that he got whenever there was money nearby."This is the famous CEO of Jeb's Junkyard".

---

Chapters:

Prologue: On First Page

Chapter 1:

The birth of the space program, stories about their mission and some general background stuff about the series.

Part 1: First Page

Part 2: First Page

Part 3/Interlude: First page

Part 4:---

Part 5:---

Part 6:---

Part 7: Interlude

Chapter 2:

[WIP]

...

Edited October 29, 2015 by The Optimist

[The Optimist]

Chapter 1/Part 1

Three weeks later:

Gene was sitting in his small, sparsely decorated office, courtesy of Jeb's generous grant to their space program. With their money, they had hired a few employees and purchased an old airfield which they had re-purposed into a space center. Granted, the science complex was just a motley collection of shacks, the launch pad just a layer of bricks on the dirt and the noticeable lack of a proper vehicle assembly building. But it was better than nothing, and it seemed perfect to Gene, as he put on his work boots to go to the hangar-turned-VAB.

Inside the hastily patched-up old hangar, the employees were performing final checks on their first rocket. After hearing the PR guy's recommendations, they decided not to put somebody on said rocket, but instead operate it with a remote control that they had procured from 'a mystery source'. The simplistic craft was just a RT-3 solid fueled rocket, an improvised nosecone and some cardboard fins, controlled with the aforementioned remote control.

Gus, the newly hired janitor/rocket engineer eyed the RT-3 engine. "I'm still not sure about the reliability of these tin can looking things." To prove his point he hit it with his wrench, causing a decent amount of powder to fall out. But the engineers would not be swayed. "I built this thing myself! It's gotta be good!" they replied, whenever he tried to bring up the subject with them. As Gus was timid by nature, he never pushed the point too far with them. Not that it would've helped anyways, though.

A team of interns and engineers pushed the rocket trolley past him towards the brick launchpad, leaving a trail of nuts and bolts clattering off the rocket. 'That's not a good sign' Gus thought, picking up as many nuts and bolts as possible and pushing them back into the appropriate holes while running alongside the trolley. As the other engineers attempted to calm him down, the trolley gathered speed and pulled away from the group.

"Uh oh" one of the smarter kerbals said, as the expensive prototype raced down the slope.

Fredbart the technician was just minding his own business, eating a sandwich and reading a copy of the newspaper. He scarcely noticed the sound of wheels and yelling coming from behind him, until he turned around to tell them to be quiet. The following thud made Gene look up towards the launchpad. "What's going on over there?" he yelled.

Gus replied: "Nothing! And on a totally unrelated note, what's the emergency phone number? Thanks!"

*After a bit of explaining to the authorities, a few bribes, and some repairs, the newly christened 'Firechicken' is readied for launch*

The atmosphere within the control room was one of barely suppressed excitement. Gene sat at the front of the room, behind the large, complex-looking and rather monstrous computer console. Behind him, Mort, Walt and Jeb watched, as the last technicians (and the ambulance) escaped to the relative safety of the bunker to watch the pretty fires.

"Everyone OK?" Asked Gene. The different site supervisors radioed in. "Affirmative, sir!"

Simultaneously, the operators flicked their switches. The projector flickered and flashed to a grainy camera feed of the launchpad.

Gus's voice crackled over the intercom. "You ready, boys?"

Gene replied: "Let's do it!"

"Ten!"

"Nine!"

"Eight!"

"Seven!"

Gene gripped the console. The future of the program and the all-important second grant rested on their first mission

"Six!"

"Five!"

"Four!"

Mort gripped his wallet firmly.

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One!"

"FIRE!"

The simple solid fueled engine roared to life, blasting away stray pebbled as smoke billowed out. Slowly and gracefully, it rose into the air. "YES!" The cramped control room burst into cheers, as the probe shrunk until it was just a faint dot against the grey-blue expanse of the sky.

Gene and Jebediah ran outside, snatching a telescope from the gift shop as they went.

Squinting, Gene noticed that there was a bit more fire from the engine than usual. "Your RT-3s are supposed to have one stream of fire coming out of them, not three, right?"

Jeb shrugged. "More the merrier, no?"

Just as Gene started to shout, the sky suddenly lit up. A moment later, the sound of the blast slammed into them. Instinctively, they looked up. A billowing cloud of fire and smoke, surrounded by falling stars lit up the dreary sky.

"..."

"..."

"..."

A shout brought them back to earth: "Get into shelter! The metal bits are coming down!".

Cursing quite loudly, Gene ran into the control room with Jeb at his heels. Amidst the sound of metal hitting the ground, he launched into a tirade about how Jeb's company was unreliable and terrible, intermingled with a variety of curse words the likes of which the planet had never seen before. After a good 15 minutes, one of the interns raised his hand.

"WHAT?!" Gene yelled.

"It isn't bad for a first flight, you know?" The intern timidly replied.

"IT'S NOT, ISN'T IT. I HAVE MY OWN STANDARDS!" Gene yelled, as he stormed out of his room.

"what a nutcake" the intern muttered, as he packed up his folders and went out the door.

Edited October 22, 2015 by The Optimist

[The Optimist]

Nobody seems to be interested, but I'm going to keep writing because I enjoy this.

Chapter 1/Part 2

Jeb and Gus sat in front of the small black and white television in the rec room. The cheesy sci-fi movie, 'Duna Destroyers' played through the static. After a few minutes, Jeb decided that he could bring up his point without yet another bureaucrat going nuts on him.

"Uh, Gus?" he tentatively probed. "Yeah?" Gus answered through a mouthful of mint biscuits. "Well, I know that this might not be a good time, but..." Jeb trailed off.

"What?" Gus replied, as he worked on opening a bottle of cherry-melon punch.

"Well, I was wondering when I could actually get on a rocket and actually be an astronaut... Do you know? I mean, when?"

Gus choked, spraying the room with cookie crumbs and juice. "If you can convince Gene to come back, maybe it might happen before the universe implodes-" .

"Thanks!" Jeb jumped up and ran out of the room before Gus could finish.

"Wait!" Gus yelled out. "That was a joke!"

40 minutes later:

Jeb yawned as he drived into town. It was 9:30 at night, and he was tired. But he was determined, and nothing got in the way of a determined Jeb. He sipped a cup of soup absentmindedly, as his eyes searched the street signs for the address written on his piece of paper. Jeb's eyes fell upon a small blue sign. Aha! he thought, and made a sharp turn right. Steering through the narrow street, he watched the road signs pass by him. The soup was rather sour, and he was planning on having a drink, with Gene or without.

He shut off the engine, and walked to Gene's house.

Gene usually lived on-site at the space center, but the small brick city house was his old home. From the look of the place, he didn't care much for redecorating or living standards. The roof was missing tiles, the windows cracked, the flowers in the small garden withered. Jeb took a deep breath, and walked up to the door. He hit the doorbell, as he thought about what he would say. After a brief pause, the door opened. Gene stood there, wearing a worn grey T-shirt with a picture of a duck on it.

"Hi, Jeb." Gene greeted timidly

"Gene, I'm here to ask you to come back to the program." Jeb said.

"I'm not going back there, Jeb. It's not your fault. I wasn't careful enough with the inspections, and I wasted our last money with my incompetence."

Jeb answered brightly. "It's not your fault. We still have a few engines left, and a spare capsule!"

"It's not about the resources. I'm just too incompetent to do this. You could do it better yourself." Gene smiled sadly

Normally, Jeb was a good negotiator. As the owner of a very successful components company/recycling plant, he knew how to make people feel good, and how to convince them. This was part of being a CEO. And normally he would have done so: convinced Gene that he was important and get him back. But Jeb was in no mood for that. it was 10 at night, he was hungry and tired, and the one thing he hated the most were people who blamed themselves. All this culminated in his usage of the last strategy he had.

"SHUT UP! YOU'RE GOING TO JOIN US, OR YOU'LL REGRET THIS FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE! *gasp* THIS IS WHAT YOU WANT!" Gene stood there, shocked. "And you're bipolar so I've arranged you a psychiatrist appointment. We have money and resources! I've hired some more competent engineers as well, so it should go better. So, what do you say?"

Gene stood silently. Slowly, his mouth grew into a smile. "I'm in!"

Jeb smiled. "Get in, if you want to."

"To where?" Gene asked.

"To get some drinks! And you need a psychiatric examination. Really."

Gene grinned, as the engine buzzed to life. Jeb was right, after all.

_________________________

With the outro of Duna Destroyers playing in the background, Gus whistled as he tinkered on his new project. He had been reading an article about the idea of using liquid oxygen and altered aviation fuel, to be combined and burned, without needing outside air! His rig was a rudimentary engine, using a small flask of supercooled oxygen, a spray bottle filled with some aviation fuel he had found in the hangar and a blowtorch. Carefully, he carried the contraption inside, locking it in his suitcase.

That night, as Jeb and Gene were downing pints of spicy chili beer and eating large amounts of potato crisps, Gus dreamed about bottles of cherry-melon juice flying across the sky.

Edited October 24, 2015 by The Optimist

[SpaceplaneAddict]

Keep going, #MoarPlzNowAsapImediatly

[The Optimist]

​someone say something please

[Monkey29399]

Great story!

Moar please?

[SpaceplaneAddict]

Mooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrr!

[Yuri kagarin56]

uhhh yes pls moar!

[The Optimist]

Thanks for all the feedback! I'm not able to make too many during the week, because of school, but I'll make up for it, I promise. Anyways, here's another chapter.

Chapter 1/Part 3 (Interlude):

Jeb pulled his covers over his head, as he tried to block out the sunlight streaming in through the open window. His head felt like it was about to explode, and he crammed his face even further into the mattress. After a half hour of trying to force out the pain by closing his eyes as hard as possible, he managed to get up and pull the curtains closed. Still dressed in his underwear, Jeb stumbled his way to the kitchen and grabbed himself a banana and a bottle of Splash-co Detox Fluid that he had no idea existed. He stumbled back into bed, downing the bottle of salty solution which he hoped wasn't motor oil and devouring the banana. After vomiting up some half-digested fried snacks and chunks of banana, he decided that it was for the best that he didn't go to work today. Jeb slipped back into his pajamas and shoved his head back into the mattress.

Gene's alarm went off at 7:00 in the morning. Still dreaming, he picked up the table lamp and smashed the alarm clock into small bits. A hour later, he managed to remember about his job, and after another 15 minutes or so, he grabbed his cellphone and dialed Walt's number, one number at a time. Walt picked up instantly. "Oh, hi, Gene! I heard you were coming back! So, are you?" He blabbed excitedly for a few minutes. Gene turned over and yawned. "Dowhateveryouwantimnotcomingtowork" He mumbled, holding down the power button. Soon, he fell asleep.

Gus sat in the staffroom, sipping some hot tea and eating a meal he had bought at the newly built canteen. Absentmindedly, he stirred the porridge as he thought about the liquid fuel engine he had designed in his mind. Soon, Walt entered the staffroom, holding a cup of soup and a bagel.

"Mornin', Gus!" He yawned and sat down. "Gus?"

Gus looked up. "Oh, sorry. What?"

"What are you thinking?" Walt replied, taking a bite of his bagel.

Gus looked surprised. "Ah, forget it. Just some crazy idea about a better liquid-fuel nozzle design.

Walt, to Gus' surprise, looked excited. "Is it revolutionary?" he asked

Gus replied, looking confused. "Well, I suppose so."

Walt asked again, looking even more excited. "Do you have a prototype?" he asked.

"Well, yes, I do!" Gus replied with a wink.

"Let's see it!" Walt replied. "The public love prototypes and revolutionary technology! And you can patent it as well!"

This was all the persuasion Gus needed. Even though his job title was Janitor, he was a rocket scientist at heart, and a damn good one at that. He grabbed his cup of tea, put on his coat, and ran outside with Walt at his heels.

-WIP-

[Mister Dilsby]

Really enjoyed reading through this, especially your fresh takes on Jeb and Gene. Good explanation for the whole "Jeb's Junkyard" thing. Lot of excellent laughs scattered in as well.

[Guest]

So Kerbal...

[The Optimist]

Here's the rest of the interlude:

Chapter 1/ Part 3 2/2 Interlude

Continued from last time:

Gus lead Walt to his tool shed, which he had just outfitted with some metal foil. He squeezed into the shed, and a few loud crashes and muffled yelps later, he emerged, holding a little device. "This here is the G.U.S. Supersonic nozzle system prototype."

Walt scratched his head, jolting down a few notes. "And how does it work?".

Gus eagerly pulled out a blueprint. "As you can see here, this rocket motor utilises multiple de Laval nozzles arranged to be pointing inside of each other. The internal plumbing system allows for more efficient consumption due to the [REDACTED FOR BREVITY]."

Walt stroked his chin. "Seems interesting. What does G.U.S. stand for?"

Hastily, Gus answered. "Uh, let's not talk about that."

Walt continued. "And who's De Laval?"

Gus waved his arms frantically, trying to get Walt to stop.

Walt looked at Gus. "And why did you say 'Redacted for Brevity' in the middle of the sentence?"

A shrill beeping noise emanated from the antenna on Gus's shack. Gus ran inside, grabbed a strange electronic object and hit in on Walt's head, knocking him out. The air buzzed with ozone and the sky filled with a strange blue hue.

Walt woke up a few minutes later. "What happened, Gus?

Gus yawned and stretched, as he responded. "Oh, just a breach in the fourth wall. Nothing too serious, luckily."

Walt stood up. "Well, let's see the engine."

Gus' face lit up. "Ah, of course!" He carefully lifted the tarp off the table. "Here she is!"

Walt stroked his chin. "What's it called?"

Gus hastily shook his head. "It doesn't have a name."

Walt started to talk, but Gus cut him off. "Let's see it in action!"

Walt tried to start again, but there was no time. Gus yanked the lever. Nothing happened. He yanked it again. Nothing.

Walt got his voice back. "So, it's not working?"

Gus ignored him. He took a blowtorch and lit it in front of the opening.

Whoooooooom!

The day lit up for a instant. A jet of white gas shot out, blasting a crater in the yellowing grass. Walt was suddenly glad that he was behind something protective.

Gus smiled. "Who said it doesn't work? This baby can burn at 100% for 2 minutes, on just a liter of oxidizer and fuel."

Walt responded, surprised. "A liter isn't very much in rocket science, right? It can burn like that for 2 minutes?"

Gus replied, chuckling. "Walt, that was at 40 percent capacity."

Walt stared mouth agape, at the small motor. He pulled out his camera and started snapping pictures of it.

Gus strolled back to the complex, sipping his cold cup of tea. He wondered if his food was still there.

Edited November 6, 2015 by The Optimist

[The Optimist]

Contracts and Budget Report, Nov.

RE: Mort we need a budget report now (Walt)

To: Walt Kerman

Walt, you don't have to message me every three minutes! I have the report here and done, go and give it to those corporate bigwigs you guys are dealing with. Also, your negotiating skills are probably doing more harm than good for us. Here's the report:

NOV 11

Arkas Bank and Loans, ltd.

DEBT: 8775

INTEREST: 8%, plus one per month.

PAID: 0000

The Loan Whalesharks

DEBT: 1 arm 1 leg

INTEREST: Your soul

PAID: ######666#######

_______________________

Contracts:

(New Partner)

C7 Aerospace Company

The CEO of this company has asked us to test their wing segment type C as a 'wing thingy' on a 'flying thingy'.

At stakes is their trust, 6000 Kc, and a 'lifetime supply' of wing segment type Bs.

Accept? Y/N

___

Jeb's Junkyard (Jebediah Kerman's Supply Depot of Mostly New Components)

Jeb ran into my office at 10:00 in the morning, carrying a proposal for us to open a package he swears he didn't order, addressed from a certain G. Kerman whom he finds suspicious. Perhaps taking this up isn't such a good idea. He's our main investor so far, so maybe we should... But he says he'll pay us 10 Kc and treat us to a movie at his place. Which isn't the type of investment we're looking for here.

Accept? Y/N

___

Strutco Struts, co.

This isn't really a contract but instead some sort of advertisement for their new product, 'Struts'. It came with a box of telescoping metal rods, a welding thing, and a request to take pictures of our designs with this product. Reward is a all-inclusive vacation to Manley Valley, including a 2-night river cruise and a visit to Dinkelstein's Saucy Mustard Factory. I deserve a vacation, so do this please.

Accept? <Y>/Y

___

Kerbal Record Keeping Association

We're meant to put a kerbal on a ship and launch it into the sky. This is actually a good thing to do, since we aren't really a space program without launching people. Reward is a whopping 60000 Kc, plus 30 minutes on TV! This is what we need.

Accept? Y/N

Edited October 30, 2015 by The Optimist

[The Optimist]

I finally managed to get myself to work on this thing again, so here's the next chapter.

Chapter 1 /Part 4

Jeb whistled as he drove up the road to the space center's converted barracks, which were now serving as a home away from home for a handful of interns, and him. Gus preferred to sleep in his RV, and Walt and Mort slept in their offices. The sun was just rising, and he felt great. The extra 6 hours of sleep had done him plenty of good, and he felt somewhat less tired than usual. Jeb made a left turn onto the cracked tarmac, and he cut the ignition. Stretching, he stepped out of the car, and stepped into the slightly brisk Middlelands sunrise carrying a box of stuff he found for Gus and the other engineers to tinker with.

Gus was finishing up his breakfast of grain porridge, when Jeb walked into the cafeteria. After some hastily exchanged greetings, Jeb grabbed a baked bun and sat down. "Gus, I have something you might like here." Jeb opened his box. "This here is something one of my employees found yesterday. It looks like a rocket engine or a jet motor. You want a look?" Gus put down his cup of tea. "Great!" he coughed. "I'll take a look at it later."

20 minutes later, Jeb stood next to Gus in his shed. "It's bigger on the inside, isn't it?" he looked around the shed. Gus merely grinned,

WIP, WILL BE FINISHED REALLY SOON

[The Optimist]

Kinda a necro, but this is my thread so deal with it

Chapter 1/Part 5

Jeb groaned as he and Gus pulled another metal pipe from his scrapyard. It was hard work, and the pipes were corroded yet sharp. Jeb figured that there were probably some nasty germs on it. "What do we need these pipes for?" he groaned. Gus winked at him, but said nothing. Another hour-and-a-half later, they finally finished loading the pipes. Only the thought of the cool 400 he was going to make off the pipes kept him going. He felt a fresh wave of nausea wash over him as he remembered that Gene had convinced him to give the pipes for free. "We'd better get into space soon" 

Back at the space center, Gus told Jeb to go inside for a while, which he happily obliged to. Then, he examined the goods. The pipes were light aluminum composite, and perfect for his experiment.

Holding a paper cup filled with lukewarm water, he watched some old guy fish for a while. Eventually, though, he got bored and went outside again. As he turned the corner, he saw Gus pouring some white dust into the pipes. Then, he realised what Gus was doing. Squinting, he saw the label on the bags. "Mergee and Luc's icing sugar". Gus had somehow got ahold of his foreign imported coffee sugar and was now mixing it with cornstarch. Jeb started to yell, but his cry was cut short as the last of the sugar poured out of the bag. Gus, seeing Jeb's expression, shoved the bag into his pocket. It was too late.

Gene, hearing the yells and loud noises, came outside to a full-blown bar fight. Sighing, he tried to calm them down.

An hour later, they were in the staff room again, talking over a cup of coffee. Jeb apologized profusely for his misconduct, while Gus thought about his experiment. The second Jeb finished, Gus grabbed his arm and pulled him outside. 'Where are you taking me?"  he asked worriedly. Gus shushed him, and went back to his experiment. He filled a metal pipe with a blend of pure oxygen, cornstarch, and fine sugar dust, while Jeb mourned his unborn cappuccino. 

"Done!" Gus looked proudly at his invention. A half-polished steel pipe, sitting in a pile of cornstarch looked back at him. "Look here" he pointed at the pipe.

"It's just a pipe" Jeb replied glumly. "No, it isn't! Look!". 

Gus pressed a match against the bottom of the pipe. A few sparks emanated from it, filling the air with the acrid smell of burnt sugar. 

"You used my 125-dollar package of milled sugar for that? " Jeb asked, stepping closer.

"Don't come closer!" Gus warned.

Just then, the pipe-rocket sparked again, this time brighter. Gus held his breath. Suddenly, white smoke poured out of the bottom. The tube shook. Without warning, a jet of fire bloomed from the bottom. The tube quickly accelerated, until it was just a speck in the afternoon sun. Then, it started to get bigger again. Only Gene had the presence of mind to realize what was going on. Yelling at the others to get into cover, he dove underneath the overhang of the new administration building, courtesy of C7's sizable advance on their contract. Just as they dove underneath the roof, the metal pipe hit the ground nearby with a loud thunk. The dry grass nearby quickly burst into flames. 

The three were shocked. Gene because the rocket had worked, Jeb for the same reason, and Gus because the flaming wreckage had just set his shed on fire. 

Mortimer, holding a camera, was thinking about the money they would get from breaking the country's rocket world record. It would probably offset the fine they would get from launching a untested metal object, and also cover the cost of a cheap bottle of wine for him.