Past the haze - Over but soon to be revived

[VelocityPolaris]

Know what? I'll do it. I don't know how yet, but I'ma continue this story. Still, I have to completely reconstruct the environment, figure out where the plot's going, and board up the plotholes, all while actually managing my rather hectic life. It might take a little while.

[Pretorian28715]

That sounds great.

But remember quality first, don't rush it, we would rather wait a month for a great episode than a week for a weak one [pun intended].

Cos' we like good content, lol.

[VelocityPolaris]

Slight update, nothing much new. All of the mods have been worked out, except for the CxAerospace station parts pack (necessary if I want to have any version of Oculus station). The parts for it just won't appear in-game. Also, you know the aerodynamic nose cone part? Blue tip, stock? It won't load in the game for some reason, although I'm pretty sure it's there in the squad part files. I can't load most of my existing craft without it, which means I'll have to rebuild them from scratch. Maybe the two issues are related.

[VelocityPolaris]

Believe it or not, I've actually been doing stuff! The KSP ships are all restored - I hope to have a new chapter up within the next few days. Here's a little sneak peek, it's shrouded in darkness so I can keep it cryptic. 

[VelocityPolaris]

Pre-story resumption notes

(First, a couple of OOC - Out Of Context - notes. When I looked at the number of satellites in the previous chapter, I realized that the order I put them in made absolutely no sense. So I worked some names/numbers around and trimmed their numbers drastically, so here is the official, current status of all probes in-story. Old comsat models Anklebiters 1 and 3 are in keostationary orbit, along with new comsat model Anteater 1. Interplanetary comsats Summit 1 & 2 are at the edge of Kerbin orbit, as always, Summit 3 is still in an inclined orbit around Eve, and Summits 4 & 5 are still geostationary around Eve. Inquirer 1 is still in the same wonky Eve survey orbit. All other probes stopped working from radiation, I guess, or in the case of the low orbit ones, re-entered the atmosphere. Also, there've been some aesthetic changes that won't be acknowledged in-story - the diverse kerbal heads for texturereplacerreplaced, for example, is a lot less diverse than the old version, so any familiar faces are subject to change. And some of those visual effects that I decided to make into plot points... well, if they were made a big deal of they're still part of the story, but I had to install different visual mods with a different look to have any chance of running KSP. Last bit, I swear - expect a lot less action screenshots. I run KSP on a baked potato, so if I enter fullscreen, the game is liable to crash, and the in-game screenshot command produces static images, so the best option is CMD+Shift+4 then click and drag.)

[Alpha 360]

I am sooo glad to see you again VelocityPolaris! I can't believe this old thread is starting back up again. May you have a working computer and many happy explosions! Happy New Year!

Spoiler

Just a side note, how do you do the table of contents. I really need to work that out in my new series.

 

Edited January 21, 2018 by Alpha 360

[VelocityPolaris]

Story 6: Shroud Lifted, Chapter 2: hey cool we found a dot

(author's note: narration will no longer be in Comic Sans MS because narration tends to be in really dense boxes, and that font is allegedly hard to read.)

 The news was not well-received. The public, whether they be in Auclal or the rest of Kerbin, heard a similar story. “The sun’s output is decreasing? The natural bubble around our solar system, which protects us from radiation, is starting to fail? To your knowledge, this isn’t some natural cycle Kerbol goes through? Alright, you’re the scientists, what explanation do you have for all of this alarming news - is it a threat?” … “What do you mean you don’t know?” The world, which was looking up at the stars again after a ten-year lapse in attention, now looked down only to scrawl “The end is nigh” on posterboard. Protests, riots lined government and scientific centres, asking “What are you going to do?” For the majority of those who were asked, the honest answer was “We don’t know much more than you.” That wasn’t very well-received either. Obviously most people had better things to do than protest, but it wasn’t fun to go shopping with the thought that the sun could go out at any second. The Shaktinnic government up north was already laying out plans to build a geothermal-powered subterranean city - they were met with all-round support, simply because it was doing something. The space programme now had to contend with protesters outside of the gate. Determined arsonists had destroyed a couple of propulsion and flight systems labs the KSC had partnered with. Some government officials who were once dismissive of the programme were now breathing down their necks, asking for progress. Unchecked interstellar radiation knocked out satellites high and old almost immediately, and put the Oculus station crew in great danger from high-energy cosmic rays. The aluminum walls of the station did nothing but turn the rays into a shower of even more dangerous particles, checked only by obstructive barriers of water and waste containers & pipes the crew lined the walls with. But it wasn’t all bad for the KSP - worries about funding and support were matters of the past, as long as their projects were deemed worthwhile. 

 But curiously, they were never given any previously withheld information - they were still forbidden from performing any in-depth analysis of Jool. And amateur radio operators had found out a number of launches from sealed-off areas in the desert and island territories of Auclal. The rocket trails and radio chatter was there during launch, but nobody had been able to find anything in space. That is, until CNA (Combined National Aviation) pilot Lieutenant Arfed Kerman showed up one day, without warning. He wouldn’t give away any other information, but a buddy of his, Irzon Kerman, was stranded in low orbit. He was sitting in a crew pod with minimal supplies, and needed a lift. Arfed identified the target amidst a sea of near-indistinguishable debris that had been mapped, then just left. Attempts to make radio contact with it yielded no results, and nobody was going to plan an entire mission around a target that may or may not have existed. Still, the KSC’s joint pilot and astronaut squad insisted the matter be investigated, carrying on the tradition of never leaving a fellow flyer in the lurch. So they had Joefield call the CNA Marshal on the matter, all while acting like he knew for sure what he was talking about. The conversation went something like this.

“You’ve got a guy in orbit.”


“No we don’t.”


“Yeah you do, and we’re going to rescue him.”


“There’s no need for that, the situation is under control.”


“No it isn’t. Do you want to send one of your guys on the rescue ship?”

“OK, he’ll be there tomorrow.”
 

 And his name was Franel Kerman, a random security guard. Apparently the CNA was too busy to send anybody qualified. So while the staff gave him the world’s most compact crash course on the horrors of zero-g, a rescue ship was being built. The blueprints for a pre-cataclysm class of rescue ship was dusted off and modernized to run off of parts currently in production. That shoved it ahead to first place on the launch schedule, just ahead of the much-hyped Oculus escape pod.

 A couple of days later, the Warbler I rescue craft launched with no fanfare, carrying Jeb (who had recently received his medic cross-training) and Franel. 

Jeb: Boosters are wobbling a little, but within tolerable limits. The spacetape is holding just fine. 

KSC: Good to hear it, Warbler. Just keep her steady until the boosters are out.

Franel: Spacetape? This ship sounds a bit slapped-together.

Jeb: Well, yeah, that’s because it is. It’s all modular though, and it’s all based on a reliable design. Our launches back in the day might not have always gone right, but at least the rescue ships always worked.



Franel: If you say so, pal. Should I be doing something?

Jeb: Here’s a little test. Try to wave for the camera.

Franel strained his hand upwards, managing a half-wave before it fell back down like a magnet to a refrigerator.

Jeb: Acceleration doesn’t feel so bad when you’ve got a comfy seat. I’m sure you could reach the control panel, but there’s also the chance of accidentally hitting the wrong switch, so just enjoy the ride. 

The spacecraft turned to the horizon as they reached the reached the thermosphere. Franel forced his head to turn, then gazed out the window at the planet below, and thought for a minute.

Franel: Well hey, it’s round after all.

He lurched forward as the explosive bolts sent a shudder through the ship, then the acceleration started up again, the kick greatly reduced.

Jeb: What do you think? 

Franel: Well, the atmosphere’s pretty thin… I guess it kinda feels like an indoor-outdoor thing.

Jeb: I don’t get it.

Franel: If you see anything, like a tent, from the outside, it’s pretty small and prolly uninteresting. Especially with those buildings that are literally just concrete blocks. But once you see there’s a whole interior to it, with a different look and more than meets the eye, some places feel like they’re bigger on the inside.

Jeb: So it’s the same with planets?



Franel: Kinda. Show me a picture of Eve and it’s a coloured ball. But if you know stuff about what’s down there, you know there’s more than meets the eye, and it’s suddenly an actual world with stuff going on down there. Kerbin’s not at all boring from here, there’s cities, mountains, clouds - but if I were an alien looking at it from really far away, it'd be a stupid little marble. 

KSC: Say, Franel, have you ever considered a career as a great philosopher?

Franel: Sure. I guess you guys don’t have any rules about mission-relevant chatter, then. Heck, I’d get yelled at for doing this on the walkie-talkie back home. 


KSC: Depends who’s in charge of CAPCOM at the moment, who’s flying, whether it’s a big mission, and if something’s going on, but yeah.



Jeb: Besides, I’ve got this. The only time I’d need regular help if I was wearing a blindfold.

Meanwhile, our other friends in orbit had a bit more on their hands. The heliopause had apparently been obscuring Kerbalkind’s view of the cosmos without anyone even realising it, and now it was diminished. Eyes which had been squinting were now open, and there were a lot of surroundings to take in. Unfortunately, Oculus station’s namesake, it’s massive space telescope, was being uncooperative. Even with spare parts, the gears were just sliding, scraping, never able to properly focus on any celestial body. They tried using the station gyros, but the asymmetrical Oculus station just couldn’t be delicately maneuvered. Still, as the only observatory not stifled by an atmosphere, they had to do something.

Bob: Uh, 3 arcseconds at 62.3 degrees. Keep in mind that with the filter we're using, we won't see a glimmer unless we're looking directly at it.

Crisise: Roger. I’m trying the lowest power setting… sorry, I overshot again!

Karbel: *sigh* There’s mysteries all around us. Clouds of gas surround our field of vision - is Kerbol in a nebula? Is it fresh out of the stellar nursery when we assumed the star to be in it’s later life? Could some nearby star be interfering with our heliosphere, or is it in a developmental stutter that we knew nothing about? And the greatest mystery - why won’t this telescope work? The lens is the greatest ever made, but the gears are basically eating each other anytime we try to run them. And why didn’t they just send up a little handheld scope? I could write an entire thesis on what I see with just that!


Bob: I don’t understand either. Alright, we’re roughly pointed at it, let me zoom in a little more… and… we lost it.  

Jara: I've got all the RCS back here, so let me know if you want me to change this side's angle or something.

Crisise: Sorry, guys, this is the most we can zoom in on Valentine.

Bob: That’s fine. I’ve got to say, I was surprised to learn that it was the nearest star. It’s always been an ambiguous blob as far back as I can remember. Hey, there’s a little smudge on the screen. *tries to wipe it off*

 

Karbel: oh. Oh! Crisise, restore the feeds.

KSC: ...alright Oculus station, we’re reading you, now what’s the surprise you wanted us to see?

Karbel: It’s the best we can do, but I think it’s an object of interest. Transmitting.

KSC: You got a telescopic photo? Wait, Oculus station, the station gyros can’t maneuver like that, how’d you -

 

KSC: …oh. That’s some extreme astronomy right there. Oculus, did you perform an unauthorised station separation in order to get a good picture?



Bob: That’s affirmative, but we followed the station separation checklist to the letter. 

KSC: If we learn that you just cut the power cables in two when you closed the doors, I swear… Standby.
…
So… Taywick says that smudge is an exoplanet around the Valentine system. Did you… is this one of those scientific breathroughs?

Bob: Yep! We’re just getting the spectrum data now, hold on. 

KSC: Cool, we’re seeing that too.

Crisise: And?



KSC: I don’t know, I’m not a scientist! Taywick, what does this mean?
…
He says “It means rocks and gases, normie.” so this planet has an atmosphere?

Karbel: Plus, it’s pretty similar to Kerbin’s size!

Jara: Well! First exoplanet we find, and it sounds like it’s got a good chance of holding life!

Crisise: Not that we’ve completely ruled out Laythe… are we still allowed to talk about the Jool system?



Jara: Think so.

Bob: I’m not too sure about it holding life. I don’t see any oxygen or anything that would indicate liquid yet… not that we know that those are requirements for life, or that we can even define life. I’m not an existentiaxenobiologist or whatever the job’s called.

KSC: Well, let me offer my congratulations! Whatever the circumstances, this is a big discovery! Now, Gene’s doing my job for Warbler I at the moment, but he wants to talk to you in a minute. First, fix the station please. He’s not happy.

Bob: Understood, KSC, we’ll do that immediately. Sorry guys, that's all the observing we'll be doing for now.

Jara: Guys, do not rotate the telescope section at all, I’m starting the docking procedure now.

Karbel: You know, this is just like everything else we discover. We answered a handful of questions, but at the same time, asked like 50 billion more.

[VelocityPolaris]

Story 6: Shroud Lifted, Chapter 3: New Guy in Town

(Author’s note: Ignore the skybox, I forgot that I was using a different one here)

The Warbler I's engine let out the tiniest of puffs, parking right next to it's target as both fell around the planet. The gas from the thruster flew out in all directions on it’s mighty quest to fill the void of space. Half-oblivious to the majestic-ness of the situation, Franel stared down at his barf bag, too dizzy to dare move from his seat. And this was after taking spacesickness medication.

Jeb: Relative velocity is 0... they're still not responding. 

KSC: Roger that, keep in mind their radio may be destroyed.

Jeb: Along with the rest of the spaceship. What the ffff…flibbertygibbets is an airplane cabin doing in space?



KSC: Warbler I, KSC confirming this is the correct target. Attempt to contact for the next five minutes, then you have permission to enter.

Jeb: Roger that, Gene. Yo, Franel, got any idea why they put an airplane cabin in space?

Franel: Jeb, I'm security. I'm a janitor who cleans up intruders. And if I was privy to their secret projects, I don't think I'd be allowed to talk about it.

Jeb: I’ll try them again. Irzon Kerman, this is Jebediah Kerman with the Warbler I rescue vessel. We’ve got four boxes of pizza here, and all that plus a free trip home is yours if you let us rescue you!

Finally, a reply, from a short-range EVA transmitter. “This is classified government property. Your concern is appreciated, however you are to vacate this area immediately. If you fail to comply, you will be met with lethal force.”

Jeb: Well that’s friendly. Do they give their astronauts guns? It’s assumed we can either negotiate or action hero-martial arts our way out of any situations.

At this point, Franel made the mistake of looking up at the control panel, only to shrink back to the only bit of orientation he had, hiding in his seat. He would have thrown up again, but his stomach had been empty for a while now. After gathering up a little bit of courage, he indicated for Jeb to let him try talking to him.

Franel: Yo Irzon, this is Franel! Arfed got some guys to go pick you up, we’ve got permission from the brass. Hurry up, I think my face is going to explode.

“Please state authorization code level delta.”

Franel: Nope, I don't know that.

And with that, he flailed about disoriented, until hiding back down at his seat.

Gene: Warbler I, that authorization code is unknown. Please attempt to negotiate.

Jeb: I guess that Marshal bloke isn’t going to tell us their secret password, huh. 



Franel: Grotawyrky paste... put me on again. Irzon, the KSP doesn't know delta, and my clearance is alpha. Don't shoot the gift horse as it enters the perimeter. The rescue is here, now get in before you run out of air. Don’t make me go over there and drag you out of that cabin.

Jeb looked at him, impressed. Franel went back to clutching onto the armrests for dear life.

“Alright, alright, but you’d better not be planning on brainwashing me into giving up military secrets.” 

The cabin door opened, and a Kerbal maneuvered his way over to the Warbler I pod. He refused to remove his helmet after the mini-airlock repressurised, demanding that they let him into the command pod first. Jeb did so without question. The suited Kerbal now demanded to know where Franel was.

Jeb: Upstairs, barfing his guts over the control panel.

They floated into the main space, and then the pilot finally removed his helmet, revealing an angled, smirking "pilot resting face". 

Irzon: Hey man, how're you liking space?

Franel: Swell. Let's go home now. 

Jeb: Just a sec... alright, in the interests of arriving on land, we'll be burning in three minutes. Good to meet you, Mr. Irzon. What brings you to, well, space?

Irzon: Well, ya know, I was just on my way to the space-supermarket, when I crashed my space-boat into a space-sandbar. By the way, thanks for the ride, Mr. my childhood hero. Do you do autographs?

Jeb: Yeah, sure thing. Always good to meet a fan. By the way, do you know why you were floating through space in an airplane cabin?

Irzon: Yes.

Franel: It's probably classified.

KSC: Jeb, CAPCOM-2 here, telling you to not badger the witness.

Mission control was really multitasking today, so they brought in Felix from recovery as a second CAPCOM. Because almost as soon as the pad was clear, they had another launch to deal with. The Oculus station crew had asked and asked, and just before they formed their own union group, the escape pod was finally sent up, crammed with every conceivable piece of survival gear. It had just one little problem.

Jara: Now that's a sight for sore eyes. Now we're almost up to code.

Crisise: Ha. But yeah, I'm glad we actually have a way home.

Karbel: Enough delta v and parachutes to put us down anywhere, enough gear and supplies to survive until rescue comes. What else could we ask for?

Crisise: ...I can think of one thing. CAPCOM, this is Oculus station, where the hell is the fourth seat!?

KSC: ...Oh. Standby, Oculus. *overturns chair* WERNHEEEEEER! 
"Ya? What is ze issue, Todd?" 
The fourth seat! Where is it?
"You are referring to ze escape pod for Oculus Station, ya? Is it not inhabited by Bob and a couple of redshirts?"
FOUR! THERE ARE FOUR CREW MEMBERS!
"Oh. Fascinating."
Were you responsible for it's construction?
"Ya, zat is my job."

The crew winced at the "WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!" sounds audible over the microphone, until the audio went silent. Crisise checked, and it seemed someone had hit the cancel call button, probably by accident.

Jara: Yeah, that escape pod's doing absolute wonders for morale already.

Karbel, to everyone's surprise, punched the wall, then went sailing back and hit her head. "This... this isn't okay. You goof up, you forget a light, sure. You forget some spare parts, alright. Now, you make an abort system that can't seat all crew members...  that... that... that... I can see why the telescope is broken! It's because the engineers are a bunch of - well, they're not engineers, that's pretty clear! Either from who we help, or referring to us specifically, lives are on the line when it comes to space travel! What's next, a launch vehicle that's just a car with a firecracker attached? It's-it's funny until you have to evacuate the station, and you have to draw lots on who has to stay!"

Crisise: Preach, lady! 

Karbel: They... well, maybe the government should have taken over the space programme, maybe then we wouldn't have as many muss-ups as third-rate sitcom!

Jara: Except that they seem to be stranding people in space haphazardly. CAPCOM beating up a celebrated rocket scientist isn't solving anything, it's just being barbaric. I don't know what the consequences are gonna be for Todd, but I'm pretty sure there are gonna be some. This isn't the way to act.

Karbel: Yeah, I know. Does space have to be explored with less caution than a team of drunks driving a monster truck? It's just - I want out. Stop the station, I want to get down. No I don't, I -

Crisise: Bob, maybe you'd better get down here - where's Bob?

Crisise: Bob! When did - Why are you on a spacewalk?

Bob: Toheckwithit - look. Problem solved. In the event of an emergency evacuation, I get the chair I just attached to the side of the escape pod. I'm the commander, that means it's my job to take unnecessary risks. 

Jara: ...Karbel, please don't snap and run away with the escape pod at the worst possible moment, that's cliche.

Karbel: I won't. Just, uh, I need to call my counselor. 

Now safely within Kerbin's atmosphere, our other astronauts were having a much better time.

Franel: Pffaaaaah that's some g's! But, thank physics, all the bad parts are over.

Irzon: Glad to hear it, Franel. So, Jeb, what made you decide to take a rescue mission? As far as manned launches go, that's one of the most ordinary missions possible. 

Jeb: Do you mind excessive honesty?

Irzon: In the spirit of the stereotypical pilot, not at all!

Jeb: Great! I decided to help rescue you because your name reminded me of a fictional character from a telly series!

Irzon: What series?

Jeb: Shift Drifter Squad, it's a rather obscure work.  

Irzon: Welp, you're probably right, I've never heard of it. 

The pod set down with a jolt, startling Franel for the last time. 

Franel: Agh I'm never gonna be an astronaut! Gosh geez I need a nap.

Jeb: Sorry, mate, but you held together pretty well with absolutely no training.

Irzon: And thanks for making sure I didn't asphyxiate myself. I honestly convinced myself a while back that I was gonna die up there, that the only visitors would be the aliens who wanted to steal my brain. 

Jeb: Well, we sent a rescue ship, so you're fine now. Let's just wait until the recovery team shows up, then you'll be home free. 

Irzon: Yeah... but, if Arfed hadn't gone to a completely different organisation to request a rescue, would I be here? No no no, I'm quitting.

Franel: What? You can just up and quit all this top secret work?

Irzon: There'll be a fuss, yeah, but I'll just stroll through parading my resignation letter. Gonna miss my buddies, but, well, a man was left behind. I'm not okay with that.

Franel: Well, good luck, mate. We'll sure miss you.

A few days later, at the CNA Command Wing...

"Lieutenant, you may enter."

Irzon: Marshal! Sir!

Marshal Lennand: Yes, Lieutenant, why do you want to resign?

The Air Marshal simply stared at his computer screen, devoting little attention to the man in front of him.

Irzon: Sir, I believe that I was abandoned in orbit, and with that knowledge, do not feel comfortable doing test flights with this whacky tech.

Never mind, that got his attention.

Air Marshal: Do you realize that you cannot simply quit in the middle of a secret project?

Irzon: No sir. I believe that I have the right to seek or discontinue employment wherever I wish.

Air Marshal: On paper, yes, but that makes you a security risk. Where would you work? You're overqualified as a commercial pilot.

Irzon: I was planning on applying to the Kerbal Space Programme astronaut corps, sir.

Air Marshal: ...Well! At the risk of bringing up the long-buried idea of national rivalries, that makes you a bigger security risk. You're not defecting to another country, but it's the Kerbal space programme, as in they work with all sorts of folks from around the globe. And it's one of few places where they might try to get you to talk about all our secret gizmos. You're the sort of bloke who'd probably lean on the fourth wall without even realizing it, odds are you'll wind up accidentally giving away clues to classified info. Or security's pretty lax, you could get kidnapped by some foreign secret agent. How will we make sure you don't compromise national security?

Irzon: ...I don't know, sir. All I know is that's where I want to work. 

Air Marshal: Look, son. I know your heart isn't in the cause anymore, but don't you see that we need you here? All your pals, they agree. We're going to accomplish something grand here, something no clowns parading in the public eye can do. The big reveal hasn't come yet, so I have to talk about it vaguely, but can't you just give our plan another chance?

The next day, walking alongside the space centre airfield...

Irzon: ...and then he called me a traitor, and said that I'd have to pay out of pocket for someone with clearance to watch me, and make sure I didn't slip any classified material. And that's why you're here!

Arfed: Did he say for how long?

Irzon: "For always and always", so it's open to interpretation.

Arfed: So you're an astronaut here now? 

Irzon: Not quite. They're having me do a test flight to "assess my piloting skills", but I suspect that their latest prototype just needed a test pilot. Then there's some mandatory courses and simulations. The KSC gets a cowboy reputation, but even they don't hire based solely off of "Jeb said this guy was a secret astronaut." Say, you wanna fly shotgun?

Arfed: What's the plane?

Irzon: The "Zephyr", a medium survey craft. It's an untested prototype!

Arfed: You know I love those. I'm in.

Irzon; Alright, mathematically, this should have a little more than the range required to fly us over the north pole. So, that's where we're going. I got permission to refuel at some Shaktin airfield. 

Arfed: A trip to the arctic! Let's go, ol' buddy ol' pal!

 

Edited January 22, 2018 by VelocityPolaris

[Alpha 360]

On ‎1‎/‎21‎/‎2018 at 8:08 PM, VelocityPolaris said:

It's because the engineers are a bunch of - well, they're not engineers, that's pretty clear! Either from who we help, or referring to us specifically, lives are on the line when it comes to space travel!

I feel your pain, PolarisVelocity. I just did a installment were I realize I didn't have enough seats in the reentry module. And in my latest installment, well, I manage to build a lander which can re-enter with two but will carry four. The engineers must be plotting to end our respective space programs......

 

Que the aqe-old song : The engineers are ruining your rockets tonight! 

You better watch out,

you better not cry,

you better not shout and I'm telling you why

for the engineers are destroying your rockets tonight 

[VelocityPolaris]

5 hours ago, Alpha 360 said:

I feel your pain, PolarisVelocity. I just did a installment were I realize I didn't have enough seats in the reentry module. And in my latest installment, well, I manage to build a lander which can re-enter with two but will carry four. The engineers must be plotting to end our respective space programs......

 

Que the aqe-old song : The engineers are ruining your rockets tonight! 

You better watch out,

you better not cry,

you better not shout and I'm telling you why

for the engineers are destroying your rockets tonight 

Funny story - pretty much just before you posted this, I realized that the life support for the mysterious sneak peak machine was derped up, so it's back to the shop for that one. Who would have guessed that oxygen recyclers aren't 100% efficient?

[VelocityPolaris]

Please stand by, we are experiencing technical difficulties.

The next chapter will be delayed somewhat, due to slight issues with tac life support. As previously stated, I didn't give the Kerbals enough life support on their mission. I forgot to make a pre-launch save file, so instead they get hyperedited back to Kerbin. Once they're back in space, I realize that I'll have to wait a really long time to do the burn - I haven't been reloading saves, so time has passed, and things are out of alignment. I could re-land and wait on the ground until it's time, but Oculus station would lose too much life support. I can't figure out how to edit tac life support mod's plugin, so I just take it out and warp ahead, with no food, water or air decreases from consumption. The time has come, so I put the plugin back in, only now everyone is dead. Plenty of time has passed, so the plugin does some subtraction with no regards to solar panels and decides that everyone now has negative days of electricity, which is enough to kill Kerbals in tac life support. The life support panel also said "windows open" under this - I don't know what that means, but it sounds like a problem you don't want a spaceship to have. I've got 3 random quicksaves, one probably takes me to where the Kerbals aren't all dead, but then I have the same not-enough-life-support-for-Oculus-station-to-warp-to-when-I-need-to-be problem. And that's where I am now! Anyone have any advice, or know the way to a help thread?

EDIT: Never mind! Problem kinda solved!

Found a quicksave before everyone died, and before the thing was sent back up into space. I decided to leave the thingy on the ground while we waited for the right opportunity, but how could we keep Oculus station going during that time? Easy! Send up a care package! (Naturally, I forgot the docking port, but it's a good thing the escape pod survival kit has resource transfer pipes.)

Also starring: City lights! I might keep these after all.

Edited January 25, 2018 by VelocityPolaris

[VelocityPolaris]

Story 7: Test the Waters, Chapter 1: Notions of an idea

(Had to switch image uploaders due to technical difficulties midway through the chapter, which is why the images change size halfway through.)

One day, in the highland town of Eklin, a bored child walked down the street. He stopped to hear the whine of an engine, looked up and saw the silhouette of a metal bird traveling overhead. He waved energetically with both arms, giving chase until he ran out of road. A ritual for him, airplanes had gone from a monthly occurrence to something he saw almost every other day. He stopped and smiled, a big future in the planning. When he gets up there, he'll bring a telescope, so he can see everyone below him, and he'll wave the plane back and forth in response.

Cruising above the swirling fog in the Zephyr, Irzon and Arfed sat in the lazy postures of those who'd flown the route a thousand times, heads turned as if to make eye contact with the speaker they were listening to on the radio.  

"...there are those who believe that our brief foray into the cosmos is but a fluke - that the legendary landings on the Mun and Minmus were only accomplished as a coincidental lineup of economic and political factors. Some say, justifiably so, that we should turn our eyes to the ever-present problems at home, to take care of one another rather than spending it on mucking about with space. Others say that, if not for our self-assuredness, we are no different from the trees or squids - we are creations of nature, and will ultimately vanish as such. When one thinks of the revelations in recent centuries of how unimportant we are, the vastness of the uncaring cosmos, the seeming coincidence of life, such a disheartening argument seems to be the truth."

At this point, Irzon felt that he had to raise an objection to some of the things the radio was saying. "What about our accomplishments? The flags on the Mun and Minmus, the probes floating through space, the broadcasts we've sent towards the stars? Those have gotta be worth something."

It wasn't a two-way conversation, but somehow, the Kerbal giving the speech almost seemed to hear him. Perhaps the same thought was on everyone's minds.

"But there's no discounting the strides we've made, either, and I personally find it laughable that they were all geopolitical coincidences. The space programme was restarted under almost the worst conditions, with even the atmosphere working against them. The key is humility, not hopelessness. Just because we are not the chosen ones of the universe does not mean that we are poor, dumb animals, with apologies to the moles. We don't know where we are, what we are, what path to take - so we have to decide. Now is the time to be asking these questions. We've been taking baby steps into the waters of space, and I say it's time to dive in, before the pool closes. But more than survival, we should approach the wonders we see with childlike curiosity. Otherwise a nebula is just gas, an asteroid is just a rock, a question is just a waste of time. I say we've waited long enough to see someone standing on the planets - let's go, right this instant, right after I warm up my car. Now is the time to go up and poke the mysteries with a stick."

After waiting for a crowd's cheering to die down, an announcer's voice came on. "That was Courbet Kerman, with his 'Let's just go' speech, rumoured to be his last public appearance before retirement. Already, it seems to have caused quite a stir. I wouldn't be surprised if we're on the verge of another push to do the impossible. Thanks for listening, stay tuned for 'You shouldn't drink fireworks: a Public Safety Announcement.'" 

Arfed switched to a music channel as they swapped spots, taking a break in the co-pilot seat to read. They kept up these 20-minute shifts until finally hitting passing the mountains that marked the Shaktin border.

Both of them leaned towards the camera screens, surveying the ridges of rock below. Unfortunately, the Zephyr was quickly losing speed at this altitude. Irzon had a quick talk with the tower back at KSC, relaying his take on the prototype. Service ceiling around 7000 m, top speed 190 m/s, hard to keep balanced, could use more intakes. They decided to drop down to below 3000 m, but that would come with it's own set of problems. 

A little while later, Arfed noticed the outline of a shape through the rain and fog. As he forced the nose-heavy plane upwards, it became clear what he was looking at.

There was no chance of them running into the cliffs, but the winds around here had a tendency to buffet planes around. Irzon was in his own little world, chatting, arguing, listening on those headphones of his. Arfed tapped him on the shoulder.

Arfed: Sorry to disturb, buddy, but ya might want to have a look outside. 

Irzon: I'm sure you've got it under control, or are ya just pointing out the scenery?

Arfed: The winds that hug this sort of place have stopped planes in midair before. Would ya mind staring really hard at the instruments? 

Irzon: Sure, sure. Looks good for now.

Arfed: Ya seemed a bit irked, by the way, what's the story behind that?

Irzon: Sorry, was just mid-conversation. There's this medic back at the space centre I've been talking with, Stachell. She's studying really hard, trying to get this planetary scientist position in the astronaut corps. 

Arfed: First day working here, and you've already met a girl, huh? You'd make Obsen back at base proud. 

Irzon: Heh, thanks - oh, uh, 10 degrees to starboard, if you will.

Irzon: Say, ever gone mountain climbing?

Arfed: Nothing big. Not having onboard oxygen at altitude freaks me out. Anyway, I just hope you're not trying to give this girl presentation advice. "Play it cool" and "Act like you don't care about your job" isn't a great way to convince your boss to give you a really important position. 

Irzon: It got me into space.

Arfed: It got you stranded in space. And who saved you from asphyxiation? Not your boss.

Irzon: Fair point. ...I gotta make a call.

The flight stretched on late into the night, the steady whine of the jet engine a reassuring heartbeat to the two pilots. An hour later, Arfed was trying and failing to catch some rest, annoyed but silent towards Irzon, who was flying while talking away on his headset.

Irzon: So sleep deprivation is part of the training?

Stachell: Yep! I'm already an insomniac, though, so I think I've got an edge. 

Irzon: You sound cheerful about it.

Stachell: Yeah. I'm glad they finally revealed what the positions they have open are for, though. They're hiring for a new mission that's in the works, they don't even have a name yet. But I hear it's going to involve sending crew out into interplanetary space, maybe even flying by one of the planets. Most of the people here are applying for the astronomer position, but they also need an interplanetary specialist.

Irzon: They didn't say which one?

Stachell: I bet it's Duna. We have cameras all over Eve already, and those are the only two real options when you don't know what sorts of radiation shielding will work. Even if we're not landing, though, it'll be the furthest anyone's ever gone from Kerbin. I'm sure that'll be a psychological issue when we're out in space, but I really want to be the first one to do something, set a new record. Maybe they'll point the ship so I can sit in the compartment that'll encounter Duna first, so I can be the first one there. It'd make me mum proud.

Irzon: That's the spirit! Realistically, though, what are your chances of getting picked?

Stachell: I was afraid you'd ask that. I'm a medic by trade, so even though I have my space science degree, that's not what I'm most proficient in. On the flip side, I'm a medic, and we'll be dealing with loads of radiation, plus possible injury. I'm not really worried about my chances, though, it's just that - well, I told you about Lancott, right?

Irzon: Think so. A friend of yours?

Stachell: Friend? Try best! We're practically sisters. It's just that a little after I signed up, I learned she did, too - for the same position. 

Irzon: Oh. You have to compete for the job.

Stachell: Right right right! And they have all these essays like "explain why you're more qualified than the other candidates." It's hard enough to do that with the other candidates, but I hadn't met them yet, so I could at least pretend they were all mean and stupid. And I tried to quit the training, but she said I shouldn't, that the space programme would be worse off without such a qualified candidate. 

Irzon: ...So then she tried to quit, and you stopped her?

Stachell: How'd you guess?

Arfed: Gah... Irzon, hate to interrupt, but speaking of sleep deprivation, I'm trying to get in at least a power nap over here. I've never entirely gone a full night without sleep, and I don't want to end that winning streak.

Irzon: Sorry, Stachell, I've got to wrap it up over here, it's a cranky co-pilot's bedtime. I went through a pretty similar selection process for my old job, though, so I've got a bit of advice. You deserve the job, but it doesn't mean the other candidates do. It's all up to the whims of whoever picks the person that gets the job, so there's no reason not to make friends with the other cadets. 

Stachell: Bye then, Irzon. I gotta say, my mom's advice about being careful around pilots doesn't hold up well to scrutiny. "Careful, Stache, they all walk around with their hats at an angle, they're all smiley, they drink a tonne, they're arrogant, and they chase every girl they see." 

Irzon: To be fair, the guild all but enforces that stereotype. Good night, and good luck.

Arfed: Tell you what, Irzon. You fly for the next couple of hours, or whenever daybreak is, whatever happens first. In exchange, I won't charge you for making sure you don't betray government secrets. 

30 minutes later...

Arfed: Oh, for... daybreak already? We must be getting nearer to the pole.

Irzon: You can go back to bed chair if you want. Doctors do recommend two hours of sleep per night.

Arfed: No, I have rules. Once sunlight's visible, it's not night, which means I have too wake up. Besides, my sleep record remains unblemished. I'll take over, you get a nap.

A little later...

Arfed: Funny how rain can make you feel gloomy without even getting rained on. 

Another small amount of time later....

Arfed: If you stare long enough, those cloud formations start to look like actual structures - wait a minute. 

As he nosed the plane downwards, Irzon woke with a start.

Irzon: Wuh? Why are we diving?

Arfed: I think I see a break in the clouds down there. I wanna have a look at where we are, based on the map we might be over the ice shelf by now.

Irzon: Another rainy day, huh?

Arfed: Is it rainy, or snowy? I'm not a meteorologist.

Irzon: What do meteors have to - oh. Lemme have some of that instant coffee. 

Even more banter later, they were finally out of the clouds.

Irzon: What's up with the ice?

Arfed: I dunno, but I think I saw this in a documentary. They've got some icy wind a few metres above the ice sheets, I think, so we're not actually seeing the ground. 

Irzon: Hold on a minute... long-range scanners are picking up something... off. 

Arfed; Off? What?

Irzon: Not sure, I say we go a bit lower.

Arfed: We passed the pole. What have you got?

Irzon: Not sure... a strange magnetic signature, but I can't quite pin it down. Maybe if we flew around for a little more...

Arfed: Alright, but make it quick. We don't have a lot of fuel left.

Irzon: What if we landed? I could look around on foot.

Arfed: Do we have cold weather gear?

Irzon: Somehow, I forgot to pack it.

Arfed: Um, strange magnetic signature, tundra hills up north... oh.

Irzon: You know what we're seeing? Did the magnetic north pole move a little bit?

Arfed: Irzon, you see the flight recorder on your upper right? Press the red button.

Irzon: Stop recording? Wait, why, what are we seeing? Oh, ok, I remember from way back-

Arfed: Press the button!

Irzon: Ok, ok, geez.

Arfed: Irzon, this is what the Marshal was talking about. You might not give away intel, but you seem to hint at stuff without even realizing it. He was right about you being a security risk.

Irzon: And a traitor to the entire nation? 

Arfed: I'd never say that about you, pal. Come on, let's get back home.

Irzon: But we just arrived -

Arfed: Let's get out of here.

So they returned. Days passed, Arfed went back to work, the boffins at the Spaceplane Hangar fixed their ruddy plane, Irzon began to be accepted as a regular fixture of the programme. Then, one day, when passing through the astronaut complex lobby, he saw eight cadets, exactly two of whom were jubilant. Holding pieces of paper which confirmed their acceptance into the astronaut corps, cadets Melfrey and Lancott were all smiles. Then, slowly, Lancott turned and looked at Stachell. She was smiling, but barely holding back tears. Seeing Irzon, she slowly shook her head. "Didn't get in."

Lancott: Stache... I'm sorry, I know how much you wanted to be on the mission. You deserve this. You stayed up, you studied hard, more than most of us. 

Stachell: Nonono. Don't be sad. You're an astronaut now! You earned it! Sure, I might be a little jealous, but I'm happy for you! My best friend is going to be the first Kerbal to visit another planet, why should I be sad - I think I need a hug.

The other five who didn't get the job nodded, sniffling, and organised a group hug. Irzon didn't know Melfrey, but he couldn't let him just stand awkwardly, so the new astronaut got a high-five. 

Stachell: Be a space hero.

Lancott: The mission's not actually for months and months... but ok.

Edited January 29, 2018 by VelocityPolaris

[VelocityPolaris]

Story 7: Test the Waters, Chapter 2: The rest of the idea

It was late enough into the night to be pitch-black outside. The four astronauts strode purposefully through the hall of the administration building, looking the part of professionals about to board a rocket - except, of course, the fear, because they were just here for a meeting. One by one, they turned the corner into the curiously-lit meeting room. Valentina, whose expression suggested her mind wasn't interested enough to be entirely in the moment, Bill, who was treating every step with completely seriousness, and then Lancott and Melfrey, who nervously shuffled behind. They took their places at the far end of the table, seeing Gene and Wernher across from them. The table was probably used for business meetings, seeing as there were reminders of the KSP's achievements, practically begging to be funded. On display today was the Stayputnik Mk. II probe insurance backup (the first probe in orbit), the flight computer for the munshot missions, an early concept model of the first munshot lander, and... something new. 

Gene: Astronauts! Thank you for coming. This is Daphdos, the astrophysicist in charge of the trajectory team, and Anbart, chief systems engineer. 

Daphdos: It's an honour to meet you, Bill and Valentina. You've both done so much to inspire us all. And, er, it's also good to meet the two of you.

Lancott/Melfrey: Yeah...

Anbart: *hic* Sup.

Wernher: I apologise for the delayed explanation, friends, but we must wait for one more Kerbal.

Bill: Who are we waiting on?

At that moment, the Minister of Auclal walked in, his guards waiting at the door. The newly elected Elman Kerman gawked at every object in the room, assuming it held massive historical significance.

Bill, wide-eyed, scrambled to a standing position, followed immediately by the two new recruits. 

Elman: Ah, please don't. Odd as it sounds, I'd like to try be part of the team for now.

Gene: Sir, we saved you a seat at the table.

Elman: Well, uh, thanks, but, actually, if you don't mind...

Elman: Look at me, I'm an astronaut!

Wernher: Excellent, let us begin. As you all have most likely heard, we will soon be launching a manned mission into interplanetary space, in order to fully ascertain the effects of radiation on the Kerbal body.

Bill: Wernher, that sounds like we're going to be lab rats.

Wernher: Ah. Perhaps that came out wrong. Gene?

Gene: In a way, you're right, but it's a little more than that. We'll have the greatest opportunity yet to test the new infrared telescope. And if we're ever going to conduct long-range missions to other planets, then we need adequate radiation shielding to survive outside of Kerbin's magnetosphere, long term life support, and enough room to stay sane.

Anbart: So for the rads, we'll have a little magnet field going around the spaceship, this cool hydrogen packing stuff lining the habitat, and just line the walls with fluid pipes. Whichever works, we'll find out. As for life support, we'll recycle water and air, but we'll have to pack a ton of lunches.

Gene: This was Step 2 for the eventual Eve mission, but it was shelved temporarily, until the interplanetary initiative was saved from the scrap heap.

Elman: Though I understand the risks are greatly increased, one cannot fear the wind. Especially not when the long-term survival of Kerbalkind could be on the line.

Val: Right. It's one thing to worry about hypothetical disasters from space, but if you have to worry about the sun... well, everyone can look up at the sun. 

Melfrey: Though I don't recommend it.

Daphdos: There are about three stages at which we can choose whether or not to carry on. If none of the shielding is particularly effective, we will abort to Kerbin a few days after escaping it. 

Val: You know that won't happen.

Gene: You'll have a crew to worry about, Valentina.

Daphdos: Option two: We can perform an Eve flyby, then return home. And option 3: We use Eve to reach Duna, perform a flyby there, then return home.

Melfrey: Erm... No landings?

Gene: Unfortunately not. This mission alone is stretching the limit of what our engineers can accomplish - we don't even have an engine that would be optimal for interplanetary missions.

Lancott: Sir, a question. Why would an Eve flyby be our first priority? We have probes around the planet, what would this mission accomplish?

Wernher: Ah. Turn your attention to exhibit A, please. My left, your right.

Elman: What exactly is this fascinating contraption on the table?

Anbart: It's a microprobe. We'll have two of 'em packed up into a couple of boxes, and assemble them in-space. One probes Eve's atmosphere, the other one Duna. They're kinda designed as impactors, but if you can land them, you get bonus points.

Elman: A model? What scale?

Anbart: Na, this is the actual thing we'll be sending on the mission. If you gotta sneeze, try to look away from it first.

Gene: During the Eve flyby, you would send this probe to impact near one of the potential landing sites, while searching for gaps in the clouds via the infrared spectrum. If we do indeed approach Duna, our procedure will likely be similar.  

Bill: Did we ever learn why Eve looks different to probes orbiting it than it does from Kerbin?

Wernher: I regret to say it, but no. It's simply... anomalous. Any existing explanation is both partial and wildly hypothetical.

Elman: I am wondering something. Ma'am, you claimed to be able to reach Duna "using" Eve. What do you mean?

Daphdos: A gravity assist, sir, likely a partial one.

Wernher: Was that maneuver not first hypothesized by Clarkler Kerman?

Daphdos: Yes, and he first demonstrated it using the Mun to reach interplanetary space.

Lancott: The rainbird interplanetary satellite, I think. First Kerbal-built object to leave the magnetosphere.

Daphdos: Unfortunately, much of his knowledge disappeared along with him, and we are forced to spend long hours scouring his notes for clues. As of now, we do not quite know how.

Elman: What will the spacecraft look like?

Wernher: Ah, am I glad that you asked! Minister, the future lies not in disposable, single-use vehicles. Who ever heard of automobiles, ships, aircraft that are scrapped after returning from their destinations? Our vehicle will be the EV (exploration vessel) 1, the first of a new generation of spacecraft which remain in orbit for re-use! It shall come equipped with long-range life support, crew capability for 4, a great deal of scientific equipment. The control area will even be equipped to serve as an escape pod!

Valentina: An escape pod with room for four, Wernher?

Wernher: Ya... I would not like to be reminded of that incident.

Anbart: It's a bummer about propulsion, though. Apparently we "don't have rockets big enough" to launch the whole thing in one go, so the Command/Service and propulsion stages dock in-orbit. The propulsion stage is pretty basic - something you'd see as the lower stage for a smaller booster, but it'll get us where we need to go.

Gene: Once back around Kerbin, the propulsion stage can be refueled. Or, if more advanced technology is invented, it can be disposed of. 

Val: I've got the basic schematics on this computer, looking at the escape pod. If we run out of fuel returning home, is there any reason why we can't ditch propulsion and use the escape thrusters to put the entire Command-and-Service Module into Kerbin orbit?

Daphdos: This would allow spacecraft re-use after an emergency scenario. But it all depends on how much delta-v is required.

Elman: I'm sorry, everyone, but can someone explain gravity assists to me? I get that as the spaceship falls towards a planet, it picks up speed, but why wouldn't it lose all of that speed as it exits?

Lancott: Ooh! Daphdos, would you mind if I explained?

Daphdos: Not at all.

Gene: No, don't touch that!

Lancott: Sir, imagine that this Stayputnik probe is a planet, and that this model lander is a spacecraft approaching it.

Carrying the model lander, she runs along the table, much to Gene's dismay.

Lancott: As you said, as we get near the planet we pick up speed, and gravity starts to bend us at an angle towards the ground - but we're going too fast to hit it! So gravity just bends the trajectory over to the side, and we get spat out over -

*thunk*

Gene: Lancott, are you okay!? Also, is the model lander okay!?

Lancott: Yes and no, sir. The leg snapped, I'll pay for a new one. But as you could see, mister minister, it's not just a matter of going down, then up a hill. We're going around the sun counterclockwise the entire time, same as all the planets. If we get thrown out of the planet's SOI going clockwise, then we slow down going around the sun, so our orbit is lowered. And if we get thrown out going counterclockwise, our orbital velocity increases, and our orbit is boosted - maybe even enough to get to Duna.

Daphdos: Precisely. Though the demonstration was rather pointless. 

Elman: I see. Then once again, history will be made! You four will be more isolated from Kerbin than any time before in history, facing serious dangers and seeing wonders with no chance of aid. I can only do my best to ensure that both the nation and the world realize the magnitude of these endeavours. What's the spacecraft's name?

Wernher: Oh. Er...

Anbart: *hic* us engineers aren't much good at names. You got anything?

Elman: I get to name it!?

Gene: Er... yes... as... a gesture of cooperation with... the Auclal government, the location of our facilities and our main backer.

Elman: Actually, I think I've already got an idea. Way back in mythology, Azade Kerman was the first Kerbal on the continent. He left what is now Sabnol - he trekked alone for years, exploring the land, meeting talking animals - I think the tale has a movie adaptation. Once he'd created shelters, paths, and decided that this was a good land to settle, he returned, to lead his people there. 

Wernher: I am not familiar with this tale. Why did these people leave?

Elman: Well, because Sabnol was turning into a desert. Not everyone wanted to come with, otherwise Sabnol wouldn't still be a sovereign nation. Anyway, I think there's a fair bit of symbolism, so my name suggestion is the Azade.

Bill: I like it, let's make the name final!

Val: You just want to leave, don't you?

Bill: ...Jagged Teeth airs in ten minutes.

Val: Is it horror?

Bill: Na, dental sitcom.

Elman: How long until this mission, anyway?

Daphdos: The Eve transfer window is in 174 days.

Gene: Training, planning, purchases, construction, inspection... think we can manage it?

Wernher: Seeing as we have 27 months, and our most recent launch has been on a timescale of days... ya, I think we could cobble something together. 

 

Edited February 5, 2018 by VelocityPolaris

[VelocityPolaris]

Story 7: Test the Waters, Chapter 3: Assembly

Sure enough, 170-something days (about 43 earth days) later, the rocket was ready.

Announcer: Jim Kerman here, folks, we're observing the rocket from what is very definitely a safe distance. It's only three minutes until the launch of the EV-1 Azade Command and Service Module. 

 

Jim: This launch actually carries the crew into orbit, and holds everything they need to survive. And, if the situation demands it, escape back home. But the propulsion section, which will actually propel them into the sun's orbit, is to be launched separately and assembled on-orbit by the crew.

Tim: Tim calling from back at Treetop News HQ, in case you're just tuning in. What do you know about the crew?

Jim: Well, everybody's heard of Valentina, the first Kerbal on Minmus, and it's the same with Bill, the second Kerbal to set foot on the Mun. Lancott and Melfrey, the scientists, are new to the space programme. Both are highly qualified, but that's all we really know about them. But thanks to the media deal, they'll be broadcasting live home every day, so I'm sure everyone watching will get to know everyone aboard. 

Tim: Alright, what about Jeb? His fans want to know why he's not flying.

Jim: Simple, they rotate out flights. Spaceflight subjects the Kerbal body to all kinds of forces, and so they make it a rule to never fly the same Kerbal on two missions at once. Gives everyone some time to relax.

Tim: And, one last question before liftoff - what do you know about the controversy behind the name?

Jim: The Azade? Well, in Auc mythology, he was the kerbal who explored the continent, then lead his people off of the desertifying continent of Sabnol. Now, in some Sabnolian religious circles, the desert was the result of god doing some tests to see who really wanted to hang out in his special land. Azade was the big coward who failed the test and ran away, so they're peeved about the spaceship being named after him.

Tim: Fascinating. Well, thirty seconds until launch!

Carrying even the smaller of the two payloads was trying for the launch vehicle, though. Val burned through a great deal of monopropellant fighting to keep the ship steady, the onlookers and mission control holding their breath. Eventually, the force was too great and the ship flipped...

...While going through the thermosphere, on a trajectory high into space. While the worst thing that happened was 3/4 of the astronauts getting sick (which was probably going to happen anyway), Gene was not happy about the bullet they had just dodged. The CSM was the lighter payload, and if one of the best pilots in the KSP could just barely keep it steady long enough, what could they do for the computer-controlled propulsion module?

Val: Rotation on point successful, KSC, preparing for wablammy orbital insertion burn. Fairing detached successfully.

KSC: Wablammy confirmed, Azade, on our mark. An EVA will be scheduled later to check for bits of fairing lodged in the spacecraft.

Bill: Gah... how many gees will it hit?

KSC: Less than two, Azade.

Bill: Oh thank physics.

Melfrey: ...we're burning again?

Val: Yeah, sorry back there. Don't try to adjust your perception of up, down and everything else just yet. You're still laying down, waiting for the engine which is pointed towards the ground to make the rocket go up.

Melfrey: Got it.

Lancott: ...Then why is the ground out of the side window?

Val: Don't think about it.

KSC: Wablammy, mark.

Val: Wablammy!

Lancott: Melfrey, would you be a dear and pass the barf bag thank you *hurk*

Bill: Really? Less than two gees in a direction that makes sense... this is the part that your senses shouldn't be confused by.

Melfrey: Thanks for the words of comfort.

Val: Bill, weren't you sick a moment ago?

Bill: From the spinning, yes. Say, CAPCOM... where's Todd?

KSC: ...Unfortunately, he was forced to resign after the fight.

Bill: I see, thank you.

Melfrey: Todd?

Bill: The normal CAPCOM. Friend of mine.

Val: I'm sorry, Bill. But you can understand why Gene had him quit-

Bill: Yes. But could you remind me to call him once we get underway?

Val: Of course.

Another timeskip later...

Val: Stage separation engaged, CAPCOM.

KSC: Stage sep confirmed, you are now in a one thousand km equatorial orbit. Run through the checklist, but keep the solar panels retracted until the propulsion module is safely docked.

Bill: They'd best hurry, we've only got 4 hours until the transfer window.

Melfrey: Wonder why they didn't launch both modules in rapid succession, and control them to a rendezvous at the same time. Mission Control's got the staff needed.

Bill: Melfrey, this is rapid succession. They have to clear the pad, bring up the clamps and pipes needed, actually wheel out the rocket - it takes a little bit.

Yet another timeskip later...

KSC: ...relative velocity is zero. Azade, the propulsion module carries no RCS, docking is all on you.

Val: Roger that, CAPCOM. Any launch errors or anomalies?

KSC: ...yes. All of them. But none of them seem to have damaged the propulsion module - you'll do an EVA inspection later, but right now, please just appreciate the fact that we got that monstrosity into space.

Val: Your professionalism is slipping, CAPCOM.

KSC: Azade, mission control switched for the nightshift 15 minutes ago. 

Val: Yo Bill, get up here and help me dock the spaceship!

Bill: Roger that... Sorry, it's just that they've got my favourite show on there.

Val: The dentist sitcom?

Bill: No. History Channel.

Val: What could it possibly be about? History?

Bill: No, aliens. It's really innovative - it's about a fictional planet of aliens, but the aliens are basically slightly different versions of Kerbals. They comb through stuff found in their world and hypothesize about why it's there - usually aliens. Sometimes they're probably right, and what they're looking at is some futuristic Kerbal-looking stuff, or from some other aliens. And other times they're just pointing to random objects and saying that aliens made them. But it shows the perspective of the historians, then the perspective of things as they're actually happening. And sometimes the historians are completely wrong! It's a really fascinating critique about -

Val: I'm sure it's a great show, Bill, but I could use some help, and I suspect that the recruits are busy being spacesick. 

Bill: Right, sorry. By the way, why does the habitat module look so different from the rest of the spacecraft?

KSC: It's the passive radiation shielding - the most of it is built into the habitat, somewhat based off of early systems tested on Oculus station. During interplanetary travel, one person must be in the science lab at all times, and one person on the bridge, but the other two can relax in the habitat until their shift.

Val: CAPCOM, docking is successful.

Melfrey: Hoora-*hurk*

KSC: Nice job, Azade. It's about an hour until you have to start the interplanetary burn, so you should hurry. We need an EVA inspection of the hulls of both modules, for damage during launch, the instillation of struts between the two modules, you need to plug in these little nodes for the magnetic field generator, turn that on, start up the air and water recyclers, waste disposal systems, radiators, and extend the solar panels. Oh right, and make sure to plug in the oxygen tank.

Bill: Well. We really could have timed these launches better.

KSC: True, but we had to wait for a long enough break in the weather.

Val: Alrighty, team. Bill and I are in charge of EVAs, you two down there will have to flip the switches for everything else. 

Lancott: Argh... must we?

Val: Sorry, but we have a deadline.

Last timeskip for now, I swear.

Bill: Val, I've got the struts and oxygen installed. The ship should now be marginally less wobbly anytime we want to do anything. Headed back inside.

Val: Wait a minute, Bill. How's the view?

Bill: Not bad. 

Val: I'm back in, I can handle everything else. You get us some pictures, this is the last time we'll see Kerbin in a while.

Bill: Are you absolutely sure?

Val: We're fine, really. Those recruits actually got over the worst of spacesickness fast.

Melfrey: Yeah, that medicine really helped out. Question, by the way - why do we need an extra air tank?

Bill: I've got a question for you. Can a system be 100% efficient?

Melfrey: No?

Bill: Right. And so we can't recycle 100% of the air we breathe.

Lancott: Wait, then why don't we have an extra water tank? We recycle water.

Bill: Good point. But we don't get all of our water from drinking - some of the packed food isn't dehydrated. 

Val: It'll be about 760 days in before we start having to ration anything, and we'll probably be home before then.

Lancott: Oh. Say, Bill, what's the view like?

Bill: Well... the Mun's pretty bright, at least the illuminated side. And Kerbin's got mountains of clouds. Look at that air, though. Even though it's hazier than it used to be, there's no getting over the fact that the atmosphere is a thin, vulnerable little slice responsible for the lives of 20 million Kerbals. 

Lancott: Tell it to hang in there.

Bill: The atmosphere? 

Melfrey: 0 days in and a crewmember goes crazy.

 

[VelocityPolaris]

On 1/20/2018 at 11:38 PM, Alpha 360 said:

I am sooo glad to see you again VelocityPolaris! I can't believe this old thread is starting back up again. May you have a working computer and many happy explosions! Happy New Year!

  Hide contents

Just a side note, how do you do the table of contents. I really need to work that out in my new series.

 

For some reason, I failed a spot check and failed to see the "how do you do the table of contents" question. Whoops, sorry. But it looks like you've got that figured out. 

[VelocityPolaris]

Story 7: Test the Waters, Chapter 4: Set sail

(Author's note: Believe it or not, I just now learned that there's an interior overlay button.)

A million kilometres above practically everything and everyone, the EV-1 Azade's crew prepared to go even further. They'd be away from all chance of help, Kerbin's nearly limitless air, food, and water useless to them. While the risks and isolation was certainly on the minds of the astronauts, the excitement outweighed that feeling. Going where nobody's been before, seeing and learning things that nobody's ever seen, the whole "one with the cosmos" feeling that hippies meditating on rocks strived for. And so they were ready.

KSC: ...3...2...1... mark. ...and good luck.

Val: Roger that, burn is underway. Here we go!

Pushed back maybe 3/4 of a g, the free-flight that the Kerbals had just started to adjust to briefly disappeared. It had only been a few hours that they were floating about, so the burn wasn't actually unpleasant. Still, Bill was glad that they hadn't started while he was floating about in the habitat.

Bill: Here we go. Over a year before we'll see home again, apart from messages. 

Melfrey: You could think of it like we're finally getting away from our annoying friends, put a positive spin on it.

Val: Kerbals have been isolated, even completely by themselves, for much longer. And that was without even leaving the planet.

Bill: But never as far. The sky, the ocean - even when we were on the Mun, Minmus, it was hanging there.

Val: And we'll miss it while we're gone. But it's pretty exciting, too! We'll get to see Eve, maybe Duna, unaided, no camera or telescope needed. Pioneering is what we do best.

KSC: Azade, KSC, burn complete, engage shutdown sequence. Once you familiarise yourself with the spacecraft, we have several press conferences and interviews scheduled.

Val: Alrighty, crew, start looking around! I want you to be familiar with the contents of every cabinet on this ship! Make sure you know what every system, every wire does!

Melfrey: Aye aye cap'n!

Val: Last up, EVAs! Have a good look at the outside of the ship, find out where everything is from over there. Memorize handholds and stuff you can break, get a feel for the rocket pack. One Kerbal sits in the airlock while one Kerbal floats around outside in case of an emergency. You swap, then switch with the other two in the ship. 

Lancott: Um... won't that put off those interviews?

Val: Well... I've got a rule. It'd be pretty droll if I was bragging about the ship's safety features during a press conference, and the panel behind me exploded.

...

Gene poked his head into the dimly lit tracking station control room. The desks were a mess of papers, all over the floor and computers, organised into mounds and piles. About a dozen Kerbals were inside, either scrambling over the papers, or paying attention to a screen in the background. Noticing someone entering the room, one of them turned around, accidentally tipping over a stack onto the floor.

Gene: Daphdos? 

Daphdos: Sir, how may I be of assistance?

Gene: I... came to ask about the trajectory for the gravity assist.

At that, one of the workers lamented. "It's impossible, demon magic! We're all doomed!" 

Gene: It's not going well, I take it?

Daphdos: I'm afraid not. If only Clarkler were still here, we'd have a chance, but the fact is... we don't really know what we're doing. Theoretically, it should be simple enough. Let the gravity of Eve fire the spacecraft in a prograde direction, and it will raise our orbit.

Gene: What's wrong with that?

Daphdos: Unfortunately, the sphere of influence of a gravitational body isn't quite what is sounds like. Rather than a smooth sphere more of a rough boundary, while the precise limit fluctuate unpredictably - theoretically, anyhow. 

Gene: Why? I know the surface doesn't fluctuate that crazily, so what happens? 

Daphdos: All of the reasons. Anything involving gravity, really, is really on the cutting edge of physics. However, it would appear that passing bodies, the orbit of the moons, the rotations of the planets, and the fluctuations in the sun's own gravity would contribute to this phenomenon. Quite frankly, it will be impossible to make real progress until the vessel is solidly within interplanetary space.

Gene: Well... you're clearly doing more than waiting for the ship to leave Kerbin space.

Daphdos: Yes sir. We are extrapolating several possible paths for the spacecraft after it exits Kerbin's SOI, based on... informed speculation, and attempting to create a gravity assist maneuver for each one. While the trajectory changes from SOI fluctuation appear minor, it causes a butterfly effect.

Random Worker Kerbal (Podflint): Yeah, and then we still have Eve's gravity to worry about, for all of it's craziness. Nobody really thought to pay attention to the limit of Eve's orbit when we were sending probes there, so we've got even less information to go on. The computers really don't like that, to the point where we're worried about them catching fire. And since we're not using any established mathematical formula for "unpredictable fluctuations", we have to do a lot by hand.

Gene: So you have to compute a burn to get the Azade an Eve gravity assist, which will get them a Duna gravity assist, which will get them home?

Daphdos: Unfortunately, sir, that may not be possible. For the planets to arrange themselves favourablely to that maneuvre would take decades. We have no choice but to perform three, perhaps four more burns. The first to get an Eve gravity assist with an apoapsis at Duna's orbit, the second to raise our apoapsis and perform a plane change, allowing a Duna encounter. A possible third burn may be required for a Kerbin encounter, then the final burn places them back in Kerbin's orbit. 

Gene: ...Alright, I get it. This is starting to sound like, well, a mess.

Daphdos: It is still an important proof-of-concept, sir, in every possible way.

Gene: Yeah! Nothing about this mission is neat, refined, or efficient, least of all the trajectories. But once we know how to do something, we'll be better next time. There's gotta be a first time. Do we at least have a deadline for the first maneuvre?

Daphdos: Same as the Kerbol apoapsis, sir, about 22 days. 

Gene: I'll see if I can get you some help. Maybe someone knows an underappreciated Sabnolian scientist willing to pitch in.

Podflint: I doubt it, their space programme never got this far. 

...

The Azade's 3-day journey out of Kerbin space continued, passing not too far from the miniscule minty world of Minmus. Val was at the controls, answering the questions of practically every child whose school had a computer with videochat. Bill was on the exercise bike in the habitat, having made a bet to be able to run a kilometre within 6 hours of his return. When he wasn't in the cockpit, or waiting for someone else to finish their prescribed exercise, he was there almost constantly. Lancott and Melfrey were in the lab, working together to perform gravioli measurements of Kerbin. Radiation levels climbed worryingly as they left the protection of Kerbin's magnetic field, but the magnetic field generator did it's job well enough to keep the crew reasonably safe. Not long after, they finally reached interplanetary space. 

(Author's note: It was at this point that I realized that the nebula skybox wasn't working. There's a sigma skybox replacer that fixes that, but it got me thinking. If the visuals are so important to the eventual story, and they will be, what am I going to do without scatterer? So I went and redownloaded scatterer. Darn the lag, full speed ahead! I will definitely regret this for every moment that I spend even looking at an atmosphere, though.)

Val: Recruits, report to the hab! Bill, pay attention!

Lancott and Melfrey floated hurriedly up to the habitat room, propelling themselves off of the lab's walls and chairs. Being able to use all walls of a room as the floor, flying about like most can only dream of... once Lancott got past the sickness, and learned how to stop crashing into things, it felt amazing. 

Bill: Aye!

Val: There's a bottle in the E1 locker... I can't get it open.

Melfrey: Captain... I think this might be an abuse of your authority.

Bill: Er, is that alcohol you smuggled aboard?

Val: Nope. I was going to, though - worked out a plan with Jeb back when the space programme restarted. Every time either one of us was on a flight, we'd smuggle a bottle aboard. The first bottle's age was going to be the year the first liquid-fueled rocket launched, and the numbers would go up sequentially until it reached present day. That plan didn't work out for long, though - the first bottle fell into the ocean along with Jeb, I brought up the second, he brought up the third and fourth, and finally Gene figured it out and yelled at me before the Azade CSM launch.

Bill: Well what's this, then?

Val: Cactus fizz, the second strongest family-friendly beverage. Melfrey, your personnel file says you're allergic to coffee, so I got this to share with the first crew to really leave Kerbin.

Melfrey: Hooray!

Bill: Val, I found the bottle cap opener!

Val: Great, just - No, wait! 

Bill: What?

Val: A thought occurs. The moment I open this, it'll spray it's contents all over the room. Have you ever opened a soda sideways?

Lancott: And how exactly are we going to drink it? It's a bottle, we're in space, you can't pour it.

Val: Blast it, you're right. We need ideas, people!

Bill: Uh, um... Alright, there's a spare life support hose in the B2 locker, maybe we can hook that up. 

Val: Alright, but do it in the science lab airlock. If we clog a vent, I don't want shipwide life support going down.

Lancott: I'll get those fancy surface-tension space cups.

Mission control was out of the loop. While they monitored video and audio feed from inside Oculus station, the Azade's need to power the magnetic field generator made such a policy use too much battery. But as soon as the airlock was accessed, they got a bit curious.

KSC: Azade, KSC. We detect an unscheduled opening of the interior airlock doors, report.

Bill and Melfrey looked up guiltily from the airlock, awkwardly holding a crude liquid-pouring apparatus. Bill shot Melfrey a look that said "Please make something up."

Melfrey: Um... Roger that, KSC. I am, er... planning an EVA to photograph the surrounding stars from all angles. 

KSC: Melfrey, this is an unscheduled EVA, and you have limited experience. Do you have an EVA buddy with you?

Bill: KSC, Bill here. I'm watching the recruit. 

KSC: Understood, Bill. The science team advises that it will be a great photographic opportunity. 

Val: That it will. Bill, Melfrey once you've, er, finished making sure that the airlock is in order, you'd best, um, go get your EVA suits.

The bottlecap pops off, liquid spraying until Bill can urgently cover the bottle opening with the hose. With the flow now under control, the four zero-g cups were carefully filled, and all but two cups were brought out to Val and Lancott.

Bill: You'd best drink up before we start suiting up and decompressing.

Val: Just give me a 10-minute warning to take the magnetic field thingy offline. The checklist says it's dangerous to do EVAs while it's on.

The airlock filled with pure oxygen, same as the EVA suits. Once they'd gotten used to that atmosphere, Bill and Melfrey were out.

Bill: Oh look, a planet.

Melfrey: You're not staying inside? 

Bill: Who'd pass up a free EVA? 

Lancott: Shouldn't we be worried about their radiation exposure? I'm sure the length of each spacewalk was meticulously planned to keep the chance of bad stuff happening low.

Val: Good point. You've got a 1-hour limit, guys. What about a planet, Bill?

Bill: Heh, yeah. It's got blue, yellow, and green. Probably indicative of liquid water. Maybe plant life, do you think there's a chance of intelligence?

Val: There's something to wonder about. If there were aliens, and they got a view with their hypertelescope, what would they think? Would they be listening to our programming as we broadcast it into space? Would Kerbin even be considered to be potentially habitable, or would they be so alien that it wouldn't even cross their minds? 

Lancott: "That planet doesn't even have hydrocarbons on the surface. All life that we've seen needs that to survive, so odds are that there's no life over there."

Val: Yeah, that's the problem, they're alien. We've got no examples to work off of, so our imagination is pretty limited here. Who knows how different they could be. They might not just speak a different language, they could have a whole new way of communication. And then there'd be aspects of their biology and society that just don't fit in any of our categories, that we'd have to invent new words for. I'd like to know, anyways.

Melfrey: So you think there's aliens?

Val: Statistically, there'd better be. Out of all of the stars in all of the galaxies out there, I scoff at the idea that life was a complete no-show. After all, we exist.

Melfrey, zipping around the craft, managed to get all the photos taken pretty quickly. But they stayed out there the full hour anyway, gratified at the chance to just look around at space, undistracted by work, and unrestricted by a narrow viewport. By the time they repressurised the airlock, Valentine was singing, a sure sign of madness.

Val: Black and blue fill up the view the coast we leave today
All along the way, waves are rough but we're tough
We won't get turned away
With all the blessings from port 
We're too brave to abort
We'll keep that flag up high
But if we fail, at least we tried
We'll pass the spyglass around 
Sound the depths, look about
'Cuz we sure know where we're going but we don't know what we'll find

Lancott: I didn't know you were a musician, Valentina.

Valentina: I'm not... this is probably school poetry jam quality. 

Lancott: Well, I don't know anything about music, but you can't accomplish anything without overcoming the fear of trying and being wrong. So good on you!

Val: Not a bad aesop.

Bill: That seems to be the theme for this evening, doesn't it? Gene was saying the same thing about the ship in a speech to our private backers - having a famous astronaut over videochat seemed to sweeten the pot, of course.

Melfrey: I'm sure the many cabinets around here contain some instruments, you could publish a sea shanty, make a little extra cash on the side.

Val: I don't think I could. It's got the rough tune of a few different songs, can't remember which ones, but they're probably copyrighted. Besides,  well...

Bill: We get paid plenty.

Val: Yeah, and I just wanted to sing a little something. I got the idea from this internet page about science fiction, and how so many works tend to treat space like the ocean. 

Melfrey: Why not? Waterships were the main way we explored historically, for a longer time than anything else. They've worked their way into the vocabulary.

Bill: Either that or you say a spaceship is flying, maybe floating. That makes a bit more sense, since space isn't a 2d plane. 

Val: True. We've got sailing for waterships, flying for airplanes or birds, driving for cars, but no specific word for going through space. Maybe once space travel becomes a longstanding part of our culture, we'll have a separate verb for it. Heck, maybe the far future will have time travel, or four dimensional shifting, or something completely different. 

Bill: Any ideas?

Val: "Piddlydibbling?" 

Bill: Never mind, let's wait for the future's refined vocabulary to sort this out.

Lancott: Cap'n, I've completed the first telescope survey. Found a bunch of asteroids.

Val: Oh. I'll patch us through to mission control, they might find this interesting. 

KSC: Night shift CAPCOM here, how can I help?

Val: CAPCOM, we think we may have discovered some new asteroids. Lancott, send them the data.

Lancott: Aye. They're all very small, but there's 3 asteroids of interest - one class B is passing by Kerbin at 88,000 km, one class E will fly by at 729,000 km, and a class C may impact Kerbin. It's not a threat, a 10 metre asteroid will probably burn up in the atmosphere.

KSC: Still, good to know. We'll have the tracking team try and figure out an impact point, just in case.

[faint sound of Podflint shouting "whyyyyyy"]

Bill: Do you think a mission to one of those asteroids is possible?

KSC: Hard to say, we'd have to send something up not long after you pass by Eve. Even with the space programme having serious support from everywhere, your mission really drained our coffers. Still, the ability to rendezvous with asteroids and move them around has some obvious benefits, so all I can say is "we'll see". For now, just sit tight until your burn. 

Val: Thanks, CAPCOM, have fun down there.

KSC: And you have fun getting your DNA fried by x-rays.

Val: ...Well...

KSC: What? If you get to go on the space trip of a lifetime, I get to occasionally say stuff.

 

 

[VelocityPolaris]

Yep, as expected, the scatterer mod is already causing untold catastrophes throughout the multiverse.

"All hands abandon buildings! I repeat, all hands abandon buildings! This is no prank!"

update: Oh no it's gotten worse

What have I dooooone

Edited February 10, 2018 by VelocityPolaris

[VelocityPolaris]

Story 7: Test the Waters, Chapter 5: Enroute

Standard Calendar Year 2507, EV-1 Azade mission clock T+0y:22d:01h:15m:59s

It had been a busy day at the space centre. Cars and Kerbals zipping about, a group of students setting up a telescope and picnic on the lawn. But by the late afternoon, the day had become lazy and blissful. The bugs were buzzing about, the tiny waderbirds were squawking throughout the warm air. Desdas Kerman wished more days could be like this, sitting peacefully under the shade of a giant radio dish and snacking on a sandwich. The days now were usually a lot colder than he was used to, but not this one. No obnoxious chatter, no grinding sounds of lorries headed back and forth, just the semi-annoying animal life. Suddenly, he whirled around, hearing the thud of a door being slammed with unnecessary violence.

Daphdos: Go, go, go!

Podflint: Wait *huff* wait up!

Out ran two of the tracking station people, either urgent or ecstatic. Whatever they were up to, Desdas wished they could be a little more quiet about it.

Daphdos: Get in, get in!

Podflint: *huff* I'm sorry, I'm just *huff* not in any kind of shape!

Seeing a confused head poke up from the mound of the tracking station nearest the KSC, Daphdos excitedly waved a paper at him, shouting "We got it!" Got what? Desdas didn't really care to learn. Blimey, but that Scuttler buggy was on the loud side.

Podflint: Look, I'm just saying, 20 more minutes and that plane might have been a bit straighter. 

Daphdos: And the maneuvre burn is in fifteen! If it wasn't for the rolling over problem, I would've taken the speed governour out of this buggy a long time ago!

Podflint: But are you sure they'll have the delta v to do everything? 

Daphdos: It is our best chance, we waited until the last minute to get our facts straight. Waiting past apoapsis won't save them fuel.

They paused, briefly considering what they did and could have done for the maneuvre. Then their faces lit up with smiles.

Podflint: We did it, didn't we? 

Daphdos: Yes!

Podflint: We pulled it off! We actually kind of mostly got them a gravity assist!

Daphdos: If this works, I'm asking Mortimer for a company car that isn't a potato cart.

Podflint: If this works, I'd like Gene to get us all free lunch.

Daphdos: We're parked! Do you have everything?

He half-waved a binder. "Yeah, 'course."

Daphdos: Then go, go, go!

Podflint: Waiiiiit!

They burst into the waiting room to find Gene pacing back and forth.

Gene: You have the maneuvre?

Daphdos fumbled around, having dropped a binder "Yes, though it's quite complicated-"

Gene: Let's go send it to them, then! Use my computer!

Seeing the three running into the mood-lit mission control room, the anxious staff breathed a sigh of relief, followed by a chorus of chatter. "There you are! Why couldn't you just send the maneuvre electronically?" "Not dramatic enough." "Or they can't, those tracking control room computers have never been replaced since the first time they were installed."

Gene: This will get us to Duna?

Daphdos: It will get the Azade up to Duna's orbital altitude, but another burn in the future is required for the plane change and encounter.

Over a light-second away, Val's command console lit up with a notification. The other three, all strapped in for the burn, asked what it was about.

Val: ...guess.

Lancott: You won an international juggling competition.

Melfrey: The space programme wants their money back.

Bill: They sent us the plan for the burn.

Val: One of you is right. 

KSC: Azade, KSC, you are free to begin gravity assist burn. 

Val: Brace yourselves, folks!

Slammed back in their seats, all of them were taken quite aback by the sudden acceleration. After getting used to being able to fly almost effortlessly, it wasn't very fun.

Melfrey: That's quite a lens flare, isn't it? 

Bill: Melfrey, you aren't supposed to look at the sun.

We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you an important message from "Bob's veggie cafe." Ambiguous green plants, grown with love, care, and passable competence. Coming soon to an orbital habitat near you (Disclaimer: the word 'near' may be used on an astronomical scale). Now with scatterer!

Karbel: Kerbin sure looks nice from here, huh?

Bob: Hmm? Oh, definitely. But would you mind helping out with the water distribution for these... plants? What is this, anyway, shulcai? 

Karbel: Don't look at me, I'm an astronomer, not a botanist.

Bob: Same, so I'd appreciate some help.

Karbel: Alright, alright. How exactly do you avoid landing on the plants, by the way? The walkway isn't much help here.

Bob: Just bounce off of the walls and windows, use the little water pipes to stop your momentum.

Bob cups his hands and shouts down the halls of the station. "Oi Crisise! How go the repairs?" The mechanic bounced and flew through the station, stopping within conversation distance. She was actually in a pretty good mood.

Crisise: Slow! It'll be fixed soon, but the gears are really shredded! I'm starting to think whoever built this was trying to sabotage us.

Karbel: Really? Why do you think they might do that?

Crisise: Figure of speech.

Karbel: Oh, it sounded plausible.

Bob: One thing's for sure, that telescope isn't good for sustained observation. We'll have to prioritize what we observe next.

Crisise: Maybe we could give Dres a look? 

Bob: No point, really. The only bits of the event we can tell about is that there was a solar flare, then Kerbol got hot, so planets with liquid and an atmosphere ended up a bit more soupy.Then Kerbol got colder? And something happened with Jool? The point is, there's not much point in looking where there's no atmosphere. 

Karbel: So the plan is to focus our direction on the Valentine system. 

Bob: Right. Once ground telescopes focused on the star, they saw trace wobbling, suggesting at least one more exoplanet.

And now, we return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

Valentina was perched in the Azade's lander-can, fiddling with a camera floating by the ceiling. After some deliberation and no apparent success, she decided to take a breather.

Then the speaker came on, and she realized that they were live. "This is KSP tv, we are currently streaming from deep space for the EV-1 Azade tour with Valentine Kerman. On the other end of the line are the star pupils of Cerand primary school."

She cleared her throat and gave the camera a wide grin, silently kicking herself for not making notes on what to say. "Hello, world! Welcome to the furthest known place equipped with snacks, the interplanetary exploration vessel Azade. We're currently enroute to zoom by the purple death sphere that is Eve, but since it turns out space is big, that'll take around 180 more days. In fact, space is so big that it takes an entire second for this message to travel from here to Kerbin. Congrats on making the grade, kids. Sorry to all of you who didn't quite score high enough to be on the line right now, but hey! Work hard, play the long game, and you'll have the last laugh when you one-up me in achievements! So! Welcome to the lander-can, this ship's penthouse suite. It's pretty comfy if you're a small person, got all of the controls you'd ever need, and the best view on the ship. The only drawback is that it's too small to get it's own airlock, but since the room can be sealed off from the rest of the ship, you can use it as one!"

Val: And as you can see, we've got a nice view of the neighborhood, and we could spin the whole ship if we wanted to look in a different direction. But everyone else gets cranky when I do that.

One student steps up with a question. "Hello. I'm Padmore Kerman, and I'm wondering about those clouds of blue and red gas."

Val: Yeah, those are from a nebula, clouds of gas and dust lit up by stars. And then a bunch of gas gets bunched up and becomes a star, which throws out gas when it dies!

Padmore: Why did you say a nebula?

Val: Well, it's actually all one nebula. We're in it! When you see a picture of a whole nebula, it looks really packed together because it's so far away, but once you get close, you see that stuff's actually really, really far apart. As I've said, space is big.  Good question, Padmore.

"Hi Valentina, my name's Aldmore. I was wondering if you could see my house from here."

Val: Hi Aldmore! No, I can't see your house from here! I've never been to your house, so I won't know what it looks like! Tell you what, I'll point the camera at Kerbin, and you tell me if you see it. Let's see, maximum zoom... aha! 

Aldmore: No... I don't see it.

Val: Sorry, I guess we're just too far away. But look! To your left, there's the Mun, and the dot on the right is Minmus! There's the whole home system in one picture! Alright... let's go down to the main command pod. 

Val: Whoops, sorry, dropped the camera.

"Hi, I'm Enmon, and I'm wondering... do you brush your teeth in space?

Val: Yeah... yeah, we do. What's that supposed to mean, kid? 

"Nothing. Also, why do you have your seatbelt on?"

Val: When your mom's driving really slow, you still have to wear your seatbelt, right?

"Yeah..."

Val: So when we're zipping around the sun at 4000 m/s, we gotta make sure to have our seatbelts on! Just kidding, when you become an astronaut they give you special I-don't-need-a-seatbelt training. Just ask Jeb.

"oh, look, a chair!"

Val: This is the room where it happens, where we control the entire ship from most of the time. It's also a really safe place to be in case of a crash.

"Hi, Harbrett here. I thought that pod didn't have enough room for everyone."

Val: You're right, but the lander-can's also part of the escape pod. Someone needs to be able to see where they're going, after all.

Bill: Hi, Val! You're upside down!

Val: I'm the captain, and I say you're upside down!

Bill: Aww man...

"Linti to space, Linti to space."

Val: *ksshk* Eh, space to kerbin, I repeat, space to kerbin, we *kssh* hear you loud and clear, Linti, go ahead.

Linti: Val, why are you upside down? Alternatively, Bill, why are you upside down?

Val: It's a weird space thing. Back on Kerbin, you always know which way is down, because it's the same direction as gravity. You fall down because gravity pulls you that way.

Linti: But it's different in space, 'cuz zero gravity?

Bill: Weeeeell I don't like saying zero gravity, because that's technically inaccurate, it's more like sustained free-fall but that didn't catch on as well. 

Val: If you've ever been skydiving, unlikely, or swimming underwater, more likely, you've probably felt like you were floating. Since we're falling towards the sun but won't ever hit it - that's what orbiting is - we get to pick whatever direction we want, and pretend that's down.

Val: So this is the habitat. It's the most radiation-proof place on the ship, so it's where we go when we're not working. And hard at work on the exercise bike - anybody know who this is?

The children apparently think for a moment, then break out into a chant. "Bill! Bill! Bill! Bill! Bill!"

Bill: Hey, kids! I'm famous now!

"Bill, I'm Bobdous Kerman. What are you doing with the weird wheel thing? Powering the ship?"

Bill: Not quite, I'm on the exercise bike - since we can't walk or stand up, moving around is really easy, but that means you get out of shape by not working at all. So you have to do lots of exercise to stay strong.

"Is it my turn to ask now?"

Val: Sure, go ahead, kid. What's your name?

"Malke."

Val: Good to meet you, Malke, it sounds like a lot of kids got high scores, because there sure are a lot of you. And that's great! Anyway, question?

Malke: What makes the habitat radiation-proof?

Val: Well, nothing's entirely radiation-proof, but this is the safest place from it. The whole ship is partly protected by a little magnetic field generator, which protects us from radiation the same way kerbin's magnetic field does, but there's another way to block radiation - put as much stuff between you and it as possible! So the walls have this hydrogen lining, which is comparatively light, but there's enough of it to get in the way of radiation.

Val: So here's our last stop, the science labs. The Azade has a bunch of really advanced science gear, including a telescope that sees heat, but we need a space to figure out what we're looking at. Plus, this is where we have the main airlock. Lancott, Melfrey, say hi to the students!

Lancott/Melfrey: Hi to the students!

"Hi, science people! I'm Katselle!"

Lancott: Aw, hi, Katselle! How's school going for you?

Katselle: I don't like it.

Melfrey: That's fair. Do you have a question?

Katselle: Yeah, what science are you doing right now?

Lancott: So, we're pointing our telescope at the stars, and seeing if we see anything. Nobody's been able to look at the whole sky with this, and they've definitely never seen it with heat-vision before, so I'm sure we'll be making discoveries by the bucketload!

Katselle: Are you ever going to look at that new star?

Melfrey: Valentine?

Katselle: Yeah.

Val: Sure, they just invented it and named it after me. No, the star's been around for a while, we just now found out how close it really was, and that it's got a planet around you.

Melfrey: Yes, we will definitely be observing it really soon. You can find out a lot more about the gases that make up a planet when you're using infrared, apparently. 

Val: I suggested we give them a tour of the outside of the ship, but mission control got all hissy, and it'd be about an hour of standing in the airlock and waiting anyway. So, thanks for joining us for the ship tour! We'll have a little while for questions, so make sure to ask away! After all, asking questions is our job, too!

Days and months passed as the Azade tumbled through space, it's intrepid crew full of curiosity of how everything worked in free-fall, wonder of all they could see from their vantage point in the stars, and boredom from being stuck in a somewhat small space for hundreds of days. But gradually, a tiny pink dot came into view. Eve.

Val: Guys... we made it.

[VelocityPolaris]

I've been more motivated than I've ever been to actually work on this story as of late - usually hobbies start feeling like responsibilities, then I avoid them, then I avoid things that remind me I'm avoiding them, that's why I usually never finish anything I start. But that hasn't been the case as much lately, and not just with this story - I finally finished my USS Missouri model, the first time I've ever finished a store-bought model. So to summarize all of my current emotions, the world is good. 

Thanks to Starman (may he forever rest in peace) spreading love and cheer throughout the world, I've had the motivation to get tonnes of stuff done this weekend. But it turns out I have to sleep eventually, so the next chapter might take a few days. Until then, have a sneak peek, with a twist!

Welp, I've gone long enough without sleep that this seems like a good idea. Only one of these spoiler tags contains the real sneak peek, so choose carefully! If you make the wrong choice, you are subjected to the horrible fate of having to look at some random picture from the internet! One is the world's most elaborate Star Trek: Voyager reference, the other barely qualifies as a normie meme! Moohawhaw! 

Spoiler

Believe it or not, this is not a sneak peek for the next chapter. 

Spoiler

Congratulations, you found it! What could it mean? Well, this picture's not exactly a rorschach test (though it turns out those aren't scientifically valid), but feel free to interpret it how you will. Now you've been spared from the terrible fate of having to look at any of those internet pictures, lucky you.

Spoiler

Came across this while trying to find out how zero-g cups work. Explanation in case you're not a trekkie: In the episode "The Cloud", the ship is running low on energy to replicate food and drink, but they come across a really, really, really dense nebula with magic particles that might give them free energy. So Captain "Doombringer" Janeway utters the timeless line "There's coffee in that nebula!"

sorry

[VelocityPolaris]

Story 7: Test the Waters, Chapter 6: Some assembly required

(Author's note: Today's chapter involves the temporary use of the kerbalkonstructs/kerbinside mods, which, while lovely, have just about melted my computer, so I don't think I'll be doing that again anytime soon.)

Zooming towards Eve, the Azade crew was having the time of their lives. Though they'd be quite low on delta-v by the end, it looked like they indeed were going to be flung towards Duna - the idea of an early return, while still a possibility, was no longer happening outside of an emergency abort. The ship's crew were seeing something with their own eyes that someone had never seen before, and no matter how good the camera footage from satellites got, this meant a lot more. 40 odd light-seconds away, most of facility life was suddenly one celebration after another, ecstatic at what they'd already achieved, but knowing there was a lot more to come. Even Gene couldn't manage much more than a momentary frown at the notice that they'd lost Summit 3, the most crazily inclined of the Eve probes, to radiation. 

But while the world took in the Everise, someone was up to something shady.

Black Krags National Flight Facility, 2:00 hours. Home of the world-famous ghost trees, apparently.

Thomkin: Bring the rover right under the cargo bay, I'll lower the gear so you can dock it.

Seedous: Yeah, you got it. Any idea what the holdup is?

Thomkin: Not really, just that we're waiting on a couple of guests.

Seedous: You know, I thought joining the test flight programme would get me away from all of this handshake-and-smile shrubcarp. 

Thomkin: Na, it just means whoever we're seeing isn't doing things for public opinion, they've got their own reasons. Is that worse?

Seedous: Like exchanging favours behind everyone's backs, or some other politics thing. 

Thomkin: It's always possible they actually want to say hi to us.

Seedous: Oh, please, my own mom's not that supportive. 

Thomkin: ...well, that's sad, and I'm awful sorry to hear that. Oh, here they are.

Two official-looking Kerbals approach the runway from the command shack, bearing fake (in Seedous's opinion) grins. The flight crew recognise their boss, Air Marshal Lennand, but not the Kerbal with the tourist pass. But sure enough, they both stop and offer handshakes, per standard procedure.

Lennand: Gentlemen! Before you go, I wanted you to meet Harcas Kerman here, he's a high-level flyer from Shaktin. 

Seedous: And why exactly is a foreign officer viewing our most secret technology, sir?

Thomkin: I wasn't aware we did tours now.

"Gentlemen, please, we're allies!" Lennand bellowed heartily, while giving them the "shut up and go with it" glare. 

Harcas: Your minister's new technology-sharing agreement. We've been allies as long as anyone can remember, and you can't complete your secret projects without our help. Though in your position, I wouldn't like it either. 

Thomkin: So we're telling another nation what we're keeping from our own people?

Lennand: Not now, Commander. Harcas! What do you think of the new Rainband aircraft?

Harcas: Looks rather crude, honestly. 

Lennand: Well, when your line of work is classified, function is usually preferred over form.

Harcas: You there, engineer bloke. What do you think of the plane?

Seedous: A blunt instrument. If it were a scupture, it'd be ambitious but simple, while significantly rough around the edges. I'd say we've got, um, a 50/50 shot?

Lennand: So, you lucky flyers, are you ready to do what's never been done before?

Seedous: You mean land on Duna, sir?

At the mention of the mission, Lennand's head snaps towards the engineer, but the angry look apparently softens when he realizes the ludicrousness of his own reaction.

Lennand: Sergeant... um, sidious.

Seedous: Seedous, sir. 

Lennad: Right, well, have you ever heard of the unspoken plan guarantee? 

Seedous: Uh, no sir.

Lennand: It's a common attribute of fiction, that plans which remain concealed until their execution have the greatest chance of success, particularly when things are hinted at up until then. That way, the heroes can look especially clever when everything falls into play. If you freely talk about your entire plan before its execution, then there's a chance that you're the villain, or about to be easily defeated by them.

Harcas: Using the rules of fiction as laws of reality? Are you mad, man?

Lennand: You flyers all have your good luck charms, I have mine. Besides, it's a good rule to enforce, to be cautious when talking about sensitive information. 

Thomkin: You never know who could be a spy?

Lennand: Exactly.

Harcas: I'll give you a clue. I'm really a spy working for Shaktin.

Seedous: I like this bloke.

Lennand: Anyhow, pilots, how are you feeling about the mission?

Thomkin: It's an absolute honour, sir. Though you are sure you launched the ore mining refueler? 

Lennand: Oh, absolutely sure, certain in every possible way. Definitely on its way as we speak.

Thomkin: And the experimental reactor is perfectly safe?

Lennand: Don't worry, it's been tested. Now, you boys maintain radio silence unless it's an emergency, understand?

Thomkin/Seedous: Yes sir!

Lennand: Off you go, then. Do this planet proud.

Barely lifting off before the runway's end, the ungainly beast lumbered into the air with the elegance of a penguin attempting to accomplish the same feat. Then, with a loud crack and whoosh of flame, it's afterburners snapped on. 

Lennand: hehehe... suckers Those two are some of our finest.

Harcas: Aren't they flying towards a highly populated area?

Lennand: If anybody asks, it's a high-altitude weather research plane. What? We actually have those. 

Thomkin: Oi Seedous, look up and to your left. That little dot, I think that's Minmus.

Seedous: Nope, it's a weather balloon.

Thomkin: Heh. Say, we're near a city, think we should have the cloak on?

Seedous: Definitely not. We don't have emitters over the lower-stage jets, and we certainly can't hide our engine exhaust. We can't even activate the reactor in-flight, not while we're in the atmosphere.

Thomkin: Yeah, okay. 

Thomkin: I kind of wish we were getting some publicity. Landing on Duna? I'd like a parade in my honour, thank you very much. And how's whoever the astronaut who actually landed on Duna going to feel once this is declassified, years later, when they realise their achievement was a lie?

Seedous: Now it's my turn to be the responsible one? It doesn't matter too much if we hurt somebody's feelings, we're helping protect our planet. Let's just do the job.

Thomkin: You're right, you're right. Hang on, we're turning east. We'll build as much speed and altitude as we can, then -

Seedous: Careful! Don't say too much, or the ghost spies in the intakes will sell our secrets to the enemy!

Thomkin: Heehee! Okay, you do a pretty good impression of him.

Thomkin: Seedous, you were on the design team, right? Did we need this many air intakes?

Seedous: Wellll... oh look, a mountain!

Seedous: We're losing thrust... I don't think we can climb much higher.

Thomkin: Alright, I'll get ready to eject the jet stage. Say, there's the KSC way off in the distance, think we should wave?

Seedous: Wait a minute, are we going to fly right over their heads? The most well-funded, scientifically advanced organisation that we're trying to keep secrets from?

Thomkin: And that's when we're slated to activate the rocket. I think the Marshal timed the mission this way on purpose.

Seedous: *sigh* So this is specifically a "ya boo" to them, then. My faith in my employers diminishes by the minute. Do you know why this plane isn't "sci-fi pretty", why it's such a barebones method of going where we're going? It's because a top secret programme isn't high tech. We can't bring in the cooperation of scientists and engineers and organisations from across the globe, we can't do much when it comes to developing our own technology, and we don't have the resourcefulness to make the most of what we've got, either.

Thomkin: *gestures downwards, towards KSC* So we use what they come up with?

Seedous: Right, we'll always be lagging behind in the technology department, with a few exceptions.

At that point, our heroes shut down the jets, decoupled the jet stage, and activated the main rocket engine...

(Author's note: ...only to spin horribly out of control because of the centre of mass shenanigans, and the terrible wing placement. So I went back into the SPH, just put it on a big launch-vehicle rocket, and launched it into orbit, and that worked. So I thought "good enough" and uploaded a teaser screenshot of the Rainband in space. Then I thought "No, that's too easy. I've already got all of these airplane screenshots, what am I supposed to do with them?" So I reverted flight, put it back on the jet rig, added RCS, made the front wings decouple-able, and used the thrust vectoring on the other two rocket engines. It still spun like crazy at first, but got back under control eventually.)

...and flew higher and higher into the atmosphere, the mostly-cosmetic armour actually helping against the scorching plasma of friction! (Is reentry heat from friction or air compression?)

Thomkin: We're on fire. Fascinating.

Finally having reached a high enough altitude, they shut down the main engine and coasted on the far more efficient outer ones. However, due to gross pilot error and definitely not that of the author, they had forgotten to decouple the heavy main engine, which was now completely useless to them. Fortunately, the Rainband managed to claw its way to low orbit, though down to mere drops of fuel.

Seedous: Good thing we're not expected to go to Duna on like 20 m/s fuel.

Thomkin: Hopefully they remembered to launch the LKO refueler... let's just go through the systems.

Radiators extended, reactor started, torpedo shroud ejected, and main engine finally decoupled, they drifted through the night.

Seedous: The reactor's going nicely, it's time to cloak!

Thomkin: Finally! Where's the button... oh, there we go.

Seedous: Remember, we can't just hit the switch willy-nilly, every time we cloak, the reactor takes a little while to warm up.

Thomkin: Cool.

Surprisingly, national aviation had, in fact, launched the orbital refueler, doing so by using hyperedit don't judge a rocket said to be launching a weather satellite, which it actually did. As far as anyone knew, the refueler was just a self-deorbiting spent stage, which just so happened to be sending out a signal under the guise of natural radiation. It had been timed to cross near the Rainband's orbit at about this time, which sent out a prearranged signal, thus allowing the refueler to home in on RCS.

(Author's note: Exciting look at how the vehicle appears while cloaked.)

Thomkin: Only one problem: How exactly do we let its guidance system dock? We're cloaked, and I don't see a real sensor suite on that tin can.

Seedous: I'll give us like 5% visibility, let it find the docking port.

Thomkin: That auto-guidance system isn't half bad! Too bad it'll be burning up in the atmosphere within the hour.

Seedous: Let's just fuel up and leave before anyone notices.

Thomkin: ...and we're off.

Seedous: How's the maneuvre look?

Thomkin: It's preplanned, so I need some time to fix it, but it looks a bit... inefficient.

Seedous: Well, yeah, we ain't waiting for the transfer window. Radio silence for how long? 

Thomkin: Maybe 2 years round-trip, max. We should have plenty of time to get in and out before the Azade shows up.

Seedous: Not gonna be fun. At least the KSP folks get to talk to family, listen to the radio, stream movies. 

Thomkin: I brought board games! 

...

Lancott: ...As expected, not even the slightest bit of the surface is visible.

Melfrey: Right, it's the same story for our telescope. Maybe when we get closer...

Bill: That's pretty important, given that the Oculus telescope saw the surface, clear as day. 

Melfrey: Maybe it's, like, time-delayed? They're seeing Eve as it was years ago? Just spitballing.

Bill: I'm no scientist, but I'm pretty sure random conjecture won't help much, especially when the explanations that comes up with don't make sense either.

Lancott: Alright, so I got the samples out of the automatic storage capsule, headed back. Why do we need these to be in the command pod, exactly?

Val: If we have to use the escape feature, I'd like to have a chance at recovering the science, that way the trip would still be worth something.

Lancott: Understood, heading back in. 

Val: Lancott, Melfrey. Refill your suit systems, check them over, take a 20 minute break, then we're all going out for a group EVA. Bill, what's the procedure for construction EVAs?

Bill: In space? Hide anything that someone could break, and deploy all lights and ladders. Obviously, turn off the magnetic field thingy. If multiple people are carrying a lot of cargo, then all but one have to have a solid grip on something at all times.

Val: Hoist the sails, then, or whatever they say. I'm off to empty out all the lockers.

Melfrey and Lancott find a corner of the hab for a snack break, deftly dodging the random bags of parts thrown by Valentina as the lockers are ransacked.

Melfrey: Ham sandwiches, huh? Drat.

Lancott: Yep, fresh from the ham trees.

Melfrey: I wonder what unspeakable things they've done to this bread... it's almost cake-level sweet, and I haven't seen a crumb yet. 

Lancott: Say, none of this is really a big deal, is it?

Melfrey: The cake?

Lancott: The mission.

Melfrey: Well, that came from nowhere. Um ...the mission isn't a big deal? I disagree in every possible way, but continue.

Lancott: Well, this is just the first step for the missions that'll actually matter. This is just kind of a trial run, way more eyes will be on an actual lander.

Val pokes her head around the corner, bags of satellite parts flying back-and-forth behind her. "Did I just hear something philosophical? You know, I minored in philosophy."

Melfrey: As you've let us know a few dozen times, Cap.

Lancott: It wasn't really anything of the philosophical sort, ma'am.

Melfrey: Lancott says this mission doesn't matter much because it's just a tiny first step.

Lancott: Yeah... sorry Captain.

Val: No worries. We really don't need to bother with ranks in casual conversation, this is a crew of four. But one could argue that everything we do is a first step for something else. The upcoming Eve missions won't be a success without us, and a base on the planet isn't "the ultimate goal", either. That's the first step for more and larger offworld bases, those would be a step towards a mass settlement off-planet, and eventually, in the crazy-far future, everything before that would be a step towards colonising another star. I mean, the planets around said star.

Melfrey: Plus, this mission actually is a really big deal by itself, and the folks back home know it. First Kerbals to fly by Eve and Duna, plus maybe pictures from in-atmosphere by probes? I'm fully expecting a parade when we get back home. 

Lancott: Well then... how'd I get picked? And, no offense, same with you, Melfrey. Most people who apply are astronaut wannabes who excelled in their field of study, while I've mostly just faked my way through that. I didn't have any special qualifications nobody else had.

Melfrey: Oh, please. They posted the general test scores during training, and, well, yours were higher than mine.

Lancott: And Kowalz took first place. Why isn't he having the time of his life?

Val: Hmm. Well, everybody's probably felt like an impostor at some point. Way back when I was joining up, I didn't think they'd take another pilot. You can really use a scientist or a mechanic on a mission, but most rockets fly themselves. The only time a pilot really gets to do their job is when something goes horribly wrong, though, granted, that happened a lot more back then. 

Lancott: ...but you were a celebrated pilot, right?

Val: Sure, I was a test pilot who went through a lot of danger, but the options for a flyer becoming world-famous were all long-taken by that point. The point is, it doesn't matter if you don't think you should have gotten the part, you did. You're a scientist, you take data, right? The evidence that you're qualified is that you were hired. It wasn't luck, and I'm pretty sure the administration doesn't hire people based off of who they take pity on.

Lancott: ...say, that's not philosophy, is it?.

Val: All mission commanders take at least the introductory course to inspirational talks.

Melfrey: Funny thing is, I'm the designated mission psychologist. Also, since there's a recorder right up there, would you mind if we sent these recordings home?

Val: I suppose some folks back home could use being speeched at. Lancott, what do you think?

Lancott: Sure, but in that case, another question for anybody back home who might ask. If you're not there yet, how do you know you've got a chance? 

Val: Melfrey, I'm saving any remaining attempts to inspire people for a potential emergency, your turn.

Melfrey: Oof, that's harder, and I don't have an original answer. You can't know that you've got what it takes, you just gotta try. You already know that whatever role models you had went through the same ordeal. Fear of failure is about the world's biggest obstacle, even when there's no logical consequences to failure, but I can't think of an easy way around it. What's that thing they say about courage?

Val: That courage isn't a lack of fear, or a feeling of bravado, it's the action of being afraid and proceeding anyway?

Melfrey: Yeah, that's it.

Val: Time to start prepping for the EVA. Lancott, did I help at all?

Lancott: A little bit... thanks.

A little while later, the crew exited one at a time from the science lab airlock, dragging with them the parts which had been crammed into every nook and cranny of the Azade.

Val: Now remember, we take turns adding our bits and pieces to the probe, then pass around the drill once we finish. I know you're all decent at EVAs by now, but right now everybody too much stuff to maneuvre properly. Hang onto the ladder unless it's your turn. Bill?

Bill: First up are the heat shield and probe core. I'll try to keep anything from gaining momentum, so... 

Just as he finishes attaching the two parts, they slip from his grasp, floating away from the ship. 

Bill: Oh -gosh-flippin-dangin-city in a canyon-sorry! 

He carefully flies around it, then, finding a grip, hangs onto the parts and thrusts towards the Azade.

Bill: Agh... it's kinda headed towards the ship, but I can't steer this!

Val: No worries, Bill. Melfrey, do you have the battery pack?

Melfrey: Aye, I can do my bit before it gets away again.

Matching velocities with the probe, he manages to attach the batteries.

Melfrey: Alright, got it. 

Val: Melfrey, it's headed away from us again, I don't suppose you could do something?

Carefully zipping back and forth, he slaps connectors on both the ship and probe, then, doing a passable harpoon imitation, zooms out to connect the pipe.

Melfrey: Ha, caught it!

Bill: Nice job fixing my mistake without blaming me. You'd make a great intern.

Val: Your turn, Lancott. You've got both fuel tanks?

Lancott: Yep! They're crazy-bulky, though. 

Bill: Go slowly and carefully. In other words, don't be like me.

Slapping two parts together has a couple of steps. First, pipes and wires are connected. Then, a resin is spread over the face of the fuel drum that connects to the next part. Screws are drilled to securely attach the two parts, then a tar-looking substance goes around the edges, firmly attaching the two pieces. 

Lancott: Phew, got it!

Bill: Great! But... oh, no. Oh, oh, no.

Val: What?

Bill: *sigh* we forgot the gyroscope disc. It's in the wrong order. Oh, for - well - just - pass me the crowbar and scraper-thingy, I've got to pry this thing apart. With a vengeance.

As Eve grew slightly closer, the probe was pried apart, cleared of sealant, and then reattached properly. Bill practically flopped back onto the ladder, exhausted.

Val: Nice work, Bill, I've got the engine.

As soon as that was connected properly, she paused, looking around for a minute. "Does anybody have the main radio? Or the parachute?" Lancott and Melfrey shook their heads, confused.

Bill: So... those parts are stowing away up in the decoupler. Didn't have room inside the ship, and the storage box is full.

Val: Alright, I've got them.

After attaching the radial chute to the inside of the probe, Val went back for the antenna. It wasn't something that could be carried, so she just pushed it until it got close enough to the probe.

Val: Phew! Bill, any idea why they're using this type of radio? It seems kinda fragile, that might come back to bite us later.

Bill: You know, I'm not quite sure why. Maybe it's the smallest thing that can get through Eve's atmosphere. I'll ask mission control when we get back in.

Melfrey: And didn't that demonstration model have two radios?

Val: They ran out of room. Say, I'm low on EVA fuel. Recruits, you wanna handle the decorations?

Lancott: I call lights and solar panels!

Melfrey: I've got the sensors, then.

Val: That makes a fully garnished probe! How's everyone doing?

Melfrey: Exhausted.  

Bill: Yes, well, could you imagine having to do this work back on Kerbin?

Lancott: Woaaah... that's painful to think about. It probably wouldn't have sounded as bad before launch, but, well, my perspective is up here. My perception of gravity is a force slamming someone against a wall, not something people regularly walk around in.

Val: Hmm. Bone decay, it happens. And let's not even talk about the health effects of all of those rays we're soaking up. In fact, let me just disconnect this pipe, then let's all get back inside.

[VelocityPolaris]

Story 7: Test the Waters, Chapter 7: Fission mailed

(Author's note: Sorry for the dip in chapter uploads, I was forced against my will to go on a family vacation.)

Slowly picking up speed towards Eve, the little probe was being brought online. Very close by, the crew of the Azade packed into the habitat for a meeting.

Bill: ...and due to the minimum 90 second response time from transmission delays, KSC prefers that we take control of the probe.

Lancott: Will that get in the way of planetary observation? 

Val: A little bit, but remember, the first thing the probe will do is a retro-burn. That means we'll be way past the periapsis, and consequentially, the best time for science, by the time it first skims the atmosphere.

Melfrey: "First skims"? So it'll have to hit the atmosphere a few times?

Bill: Yes... remember, the probe's an orbital slapjob. No matter how hard we worked, it'll never measure up to what industrial equipment back on Kerbin could manage. There's no chance of getting data back from the atmosphere if we go much deeper than 78 km into it, which should be enough to prevent escaping Eve's gravity. Several more shallow atmospheric entries, and we might have a chance of landing.

Melfrey: Oh, so it's kinda insurance. In case landing turns out to be impossible, we'll still get data back from the first entry.

Val: Exactly. Bill will be managing the systems, I'll control the probe if need be, and the two of you handle getting the data back. 

Melfrey: Captain, planetary science isn't exactly my field.

Val: Good point. You'll mostly be doing number-crunching, raw-data sort of work, then, nothing that requires deep thought and analyzing. No offense.

Melfrey: None taken. 

Lancott: One more question... does the probe have a name?

One call to the KSC later, they had dubbed this type of probe the Hephae class, at the suggestion of an intern who was into obscure Flesen mythology. Then, after the meticulous inspection of every system, the probe was finally on it's way.

Lancott: Bye, Hephae 1! Good luck!

Melfrey: Why'd they have to name it? See, now you'll only feel terrible when we incinerate it in Eve's atmosphere.

That seemingly fragile assembly of oddments was out of sight, out of mind for now, though. The Azade continued to cautiously dive towards that pink sphere, and, almost 10 hours later, they got an opportunity nobody would see for a while.

Val: Recruits, mind if I take a peek through the telescope?

Melfrey: Sure, but I doubt it'd be too thrilling. We've got some data going through the lab computer.

Val: Oh, right, you're not exactly looking a cool picture of anything.

Lancott: No, but it's still pretty interesting! The numbers we're getting now are slowly forming a topographic map, if you're interested.

Val: No thanks, I've got my trusty 'ol camera. Not much of a zoom setting to speak of, though...

Val: Say... did you two see any plumes of gas? Near the pole, day side, going most of the way up the atmosphere?

Lancott: No clue. Maybe there's volcanic activity? All logic suggests the climate of, well, anything with an atmosphere can't be homogenous, maybe it's the result of the buildup of some material at the poles. That'd be quite a profound discovery.

Melfrey: Maybe we should point the scope thataway, then.

Only a little while later, it was time for their next scheduled EVA. Excited for the chance to zip around nearly unobstructed, the crew dropped everything to fly out of the airlock two at a time. After giving them some time to look around excitedly, a call from mission control came through.

KSC: Remember the main reason for the spacewalk, folks. Don't forget the PR shots!

Val: Uh, roger that. Fellas, get in formation, and try not to bump anyone!

Carefully setting her camera on a timer and placing it with almost no momentum, Val flew back into formation just in time for a group photo.

Val: I wish we could get something like this on the mission patch.

Melfrey: Wouldn't that violate causality?

Val: Ah, you silly limited being, perceiving time in such a linear fashion!

Bill: It's a pity the sun isn't quite lined up right, you can't see our faces.

Val: Yeah, hold on. Let's get one more shot.

Val: What do you think?

Bill: I think that if there's an "Extreme Company Group Photograph" contest, we won it.

Soaring around happily for a bit longer, some close passes by the solar panels were eventually made. Unnerved, mission control eventually ordered them back in.

Melfrey: Lancott! Are you headed back in?

Lancott: Yeah... just one second. Funny thing, the planet looks pretty nice from up here, but it's probably pretty crazy down there.

Melfrey: Well, it's more than a pink shell, that's for sure. Whatever chemical craziness goes on, I'm glad figuring it out isn't my job. 

A couple more days went on as they reached their fastest speed, then Eve slowly hurled them uphill and away, the ship passing by a faint glimmer of an object. Though still almost incomprehensibly far, they caught a glimmer of the petite asteroid world itself, Gilly! Unfortunately, it was quite small, and the science itinerary barely gave it a glance, so the moon ended up as a few pixels on Val's camera.

Hephae 1 was also diving towards Eve, catching, by pure coincidence, what had eluded every vessel before it. A break in the clouds!

This phenomena vanished almost as soon as it had appeared, yielding little in the way of information. Still, the very fact that this could happen was quite novel, and, for the umpteenth time, astronomers were speculating wildly. The Azade had kept a cautious, safe distance during its dive, but Hephae 1, thanks to its initial burn, had no such luxury. 

Catching a glimpse of land before the light faded, they entered the atmosphere. The outer parts of the probe quickly picked up heat, prompting a salty comment from Bill about the improper placement of essential parts. Still, he had only noticed after Hephae 1 had fired its engine and left. With the radial parts jutting out to the side so much, their little heat shield was proving woefully inadequate. Fortunately, Val discovered that, somehow, setting the probe to spin really fast would fix all of their problems! 

Their little dip into the atmosphere had placed them in Eve orbit, allowing the high-altitude atmospheric data to be sent. But if they were ever to lower Hephae 1's orbit enough to land, it would take a few long trips around.

42 days in, Hephae 1's last time around, with the Azade a couple of light-seconds away. Running the numbers, the engineers back home decided that another aerobrake would ruin the heat shield, so it was now or never. Their destination - landing site alpha. Out of the three landing sites the Inquirer probe had found, this was arguably the worst of the lot, but it was the only one that Hephae 1 was in a position to land near. Landing site gamma was the edge of a peninsula jutting out from a crater lake, beta was an island chain near a continent, and alpha was a steep slope leading into the ocean, but it would have to do for now.  

As usual, temperatures were just barely below critical. As Hephae 1 streaked through the sky for the last time, the signal became more and more spotty, the static-y images and on-and-off data reminding Val of a deepwater unmanned submarine, barely getting back clues of the mysterious depths that were crushing it. And just like that, the signal was gone, the rushing plasma kind of getting in the way. The crew waited long, boring minutes peering at their monitors, aware that a momentary lapse in concentration could cost them a chance to save valuable information. Finally, the signal was restored, flickering on and off from the perspective of the Summit satellite receiving it.

Bill: Can't believe the engine actually re-lit under these conditions.

Val: Do we have image data?

Melfrey: Affirmative... it's not very enlightening, though. Night time.

Val: And sensors?

Lancott: Data's coming through! If Hephae 1 explodes right this second, the mission won't have been a waste.

Val: Don't encourage it... Bill, stand by on parachute deployment.

Bill: Roger, the radial drogue chute appears fully functional. The RADAR altimeter, however, is fried to all heck.

In fact, the only indication that Hephae 1 had touched down was when the signal suddenly cut out. Summit 4's big ear cupped, it peered towards the landing site, but even the best back at KSC heard nothing but chaotic noise. 

Val: I guess it crashed, then.

Bill: Well, we were using the smallest parachute money could buy. 

Val: And that engine seemed to be underperforming?

Bill: Yep, it seems that dense atmospheres have a bigger impact on thruster performance than was estimated. We'll have to take that into account for the next mission.

Melfrey: It was still technically a success, right? We were receiving data up until the last second.

Lancott: Yeah, and it actually got some samples of that carbon-ethane-whatever-the-heck-else mess of an atmosphere!

Val: Still, I was hoping for a picture. Ah well. 

Melfrey: Maybe when you land, you can send us a postcard.

Lancott: You served us well, buddy. Right until we hurled you to your death.

But as the sun slowly rose on Eve, they learned that their grieving was unnecessary. Staring bored at his screen, the nightshift tracking bloke noticed something odd in the swirling mess of noise picked up by Summit 4's main antenna. It was weak, but it was the same each time it blinked back on, the one thing that stayed the same in the storm. The night team was too tired for a cheer, so they exchanged grins. Signal reacquired!

In the ship science lab, Bill and Lancott tried to cheer quietly, not wishing to incur the wrath of the off-duty crew. Main antenna gone, sensors gone, battery damaged, the emergency radio was only just getting through somehow. Pixels slowly formed on a monitor, each one a battle to receive properly. But in time, an image finally formed.

Bill: ...I wasn't expecting that.

Lancott: Our first look at the surface... well done, Hephae 1! Say... Eve is weird. What are those, um, black spots on the rims of the hills?

Bill: Normally, I'd say I have no idea, but I think that those are just little camera glitches. You can't drop a camera on another planet, then send the signal through a few layers of weird without expecting some issues. Also, there's a chance the colour mixing might be off for the entire photo.

Lancott: I don't think so. We've always seen green accompanying sunrise and sunset, maybe it'll get more pink and purple as the day goes on.

And indeed it did. They were working overtime back at the KSC to process the images, with each little bit having to be sent and resent until it could be filtered out from the noise. Over the hours leading up to the Evian noon, they only finished a few pictures that weren't corrupted entirely. Nevertheless, when Wernher sleepily stepped inside the mission control centre, he did a little jig of joy.

Wernher: Despite the low likelihood of success, this probe is the first to land on the surface of another world. Gentlemen, this is a grand occasion!

Sig: Yep... that it is. And there's the surface for everyone to see, in all of its craziness. 

SYSTEMS: Guys, anyone want a status report?

Sig: Sure, hit me.

SYSTEMS: Instruments are down, as you know, batteries are half-broken, main antenna's wrecked, engine's smashed.

Wernher: I see. What are the surface conditions?

SYSTEMS: I just said that instruments are down, sir.

Sig: What are the last recorded readings?

EECOM: Just before touchdown loss of signal, temperature read 404.3 K, gravity 16.65 m/s/s, pressure about 4.77 atmospheres. Based on orbital map data, we're at around 550 m above sea level.

Wernher: Actually, that does not sound very bad.

EECOM: Also, the air is corrosive.

Sig: Hmm. How long do we have?

Wernher: Weeks, perhaps days.

SYSTEMS: I wouldn't be so optimistic, sir. Damage to the electrical system indicates that if we lose all onboard power, Hephae 1 will not be able to recharge. The batteries won't be able to last us all night, sir, not even in low power mode. 

Sig: So this is it? Occasional pictures through the day, then the probe dies?

Wilwinn: That would still be extremely valuable data. Studying cloud patterns and movements, local light level changes, close ups of the ground, even one photo tells quite a story.

Wernher: Of course. For example, why is the terrain so flat? Perhaps the slopes leading into the water are regularly swept clean.

EECOM: Water's a bit of a misnomer, sir.

Wernher: Ah yes, I apologise. What is it, hydrogen peroxide? No, that doesn't explain the colour, and it can't naturally exist in such quantities...

CAPCOM: Sir, I'm getting a call from the Azade. They've got a proposal.

Sig: Let's hear it.

EV-1 Azade: Val here, guys, we've got a cunning plan. Hephae 1's just sitting up here, right? Nothing to do, and it can't get a good look at anything far away. But it's a pretty steep slope, so if we just removed the SAS parking brake, gravity would cause it to *snicker* slowly roll downhill until reaching the shallows and water. It'll be just like a rover! 

Sig: Is... are they joking? Could that work?

FDO: Eh, why not? Sure, the craft might break apart or shred on every roll and bounce, but nobody ever got anywhere by playing it safe.

Wilwinn: I'd caution against that plan. We'd be throwing away our best chance to get in more pictures.

FDO: Either way, we should probably decide soon. Rolling down this hill is going to take hours.

Sig: I... don't want to get in trouble for trashing the first probe to land on another planet. Gene should be up in a few minutes, I'll let him make the call. In the meantime, do some math, try to figure out whether or not Hephae 1 could survive the trip down.

Many jokes later, they had finally decided. The chance to get a good look at the coast was too enticing to pass up. So a single, simple command came down through the clouds, to release the parking brake. Operation Rabble Rabble was a go.

Carried by gravity, Hephae 1 slowly bounced and rolled down the massive slopes of the Evian coastline. With the transmitter rolling around, getting photos together took even longer, but it was a long way down. 

Bill: Uh, looks like we've stopped. Also, turns out the backup accelerometer is still kinda working!

Lancott: That means this section of the slope is shallow enough to land on! We could put the base here! Nice find, Hephae!

Melfrey: Inquirer 1 and Summit 4 are in range, I'll try to reason out our coordinates and mark the spot.

Val: Good idea. Honestly though, I'm not sure that this is a good place to live anymore. 

Bill: Should we keep going downhill?

Val: Yeah, just have the gyroscope start spinning until we get off of this flat spot.

A long while later, they finally got a snapshot of the ocean they were tumbling towards, dotted with splashes from what appeared to be rain.

Val: Ahoy, water ho!

Lancott: Should we stop?

Bill: Can't - the reaction wheels are too shredded to respond.

Melfrey: On the plus side, there seems to be a slight break in the clouds, we should have another picture up pretty soon.

Lancott: I guess Hephae 1's just going to slide into the ocean like a... weird turtle, then?

Val: This is about the most glorious death a humble probe could ever ask for, really.

Bill: Yeah, can't believe it's still transmitting!

Bill really shouldn't have said that, because seconds after, they received the final picture from the probe before the antenna rolled underwater.

 

Val: There we go. That liquid's probably got some hydrogen peroxide in there, plus other nasty stuff... well, I wouldn't expect the probe's onboard power to keep going for much longer. Not that we'll know.

Bill: That sucks... the ocean was starting to look like the only flat place to put a base. I guess we probably won't be landing here, hopefully the other landing zones are better.

Val: I gotta say, I"m kinda disappointed, the place looks pretty drab. Pretty rainy, too.

Melfrey: Disappointed? I'm not. We're getting the first glimpse of the surface of an alien world, Captain.

Lancott: You served us well, Hephae 1. May you rest forever in robot heaven, you brave piece of hardware.

As its batteries slowly drained, Hephae 1 could finally rest. It had done a good job.

*ATTEMPTING TO ENTER HIBERNATION MODE*
*FATAL SYSTEM ERROR, CANNOT ACCESS*
*SHUTTING DOWN*

[VelocityPolaris]

This is, in some ways, a teaser.

You should have turned back sooner
'cause the Reach it owns this bay
And you can't outrun her and you can't outgun her 
And you know you're gonna pay!
-The Devil's Reach by The Jolly Rogers

[VelocityPolaris]

Story 7: Test the Waters, Chapter 8: On the Road

(Author's note: I think I made this chapter too long)

Interplanetary space, above Eve's orbital path

Val: Attention, this is your Captain speaking. We are about to begin the burn for the plane change to Duna, which will last around a minute. Please fasten all seatbelts, remain seated within the command capsules, and do not exit the vehicle for any reason. 

Bill: Yes, we won't be turning around to pick anybody up. 

Lancott: This is gonna suck. Even less than a full g...

Melfrey: Yeah, we've been in space for what, 200-something days now? I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure my body's gotten used to not having big forces slam it towards a surface. 

Lancott: Uh huh... We're adapting to zero-g, with the related reduced bloodflow effort, weaker bones, and changed sense of balance.

KSC: Azade, if transmission time obeys the laws of physics, your burn will be in 7...6...5...4...3...2...1... mark!

Val: Mark aye, throttling up. Thanks for the vivid physiological descriptions of exactly how not fun this will be, Lancott. 

The acceleration slowly increased, the crew unable to properly brace for a force they had not felt in a while. The Azade was accelerating faster than the force of gravity this time, giving the Kerbals a bit of a shock, but they soon got over it.

Val: How's it holding up, Bill?

Bill: The strut connection between propulsion and service modules is holding. Thanks for throttling up slowly, by the way. 

Val: No prob. Think we should replace those struts soon?

Bill: Yes. Preferably before the next burn.

Lancott: When is the next burn, by the way?

Bill: As any SOI transition can unpredictably change a trajectory slightly, maybe some light adjustment stuff when we reach Duna. Then there's the burn to put us on a course to Kerbin, and the final decceleration. We have very little margin of error with our fuel, but there's always the emergency monoprop thrusters.

Melfrey: No gravity assist this time?

Lancott: It just isn't possible. Our periapsis is already at Eve, we'll be orbiting at a pretty bad time to intercept Kerbin without using a load of fuel, and Duna just isn't suitable for that sort of thing.

Bill: Guys, hold on a second. The magnetic field seems to be fluctuating on the port quarter... I'd say we're getting some interference, but it annoys me to no end whenever they say that on television.

Val: Source?

Bill: Unknown, maybe it's just glitchy. I'll do a checkup EVA once we're done, just in case. 

Val: Throttling back... and we're done! Good job, everyone. 

KSC: If you started and finished the burn successfully, congratulations! You should now be enroute to pass really close to Duna, in, uh, 400-something days. Maybe longer, but don't worry, I'm 100% sure we did the life support math. Now judging by popular response to the last burn, you may not be too happy with the high acceleration, and may be wondering why we couldn't just stretch it over a longer period of time. 

Melfrey: Is it possible for CAPCOM to be psychic? 

KSC: The answer is, because you're going to land back on Kerbin eventually, and there's no getting around the fact that you'll be sitting in one full g, all the time. So may as well give your system a few similar shocks, keep you on your toes. Probably.

Lancott: Kerbin. One g, all the time... I didn't really think about that.   

Val: Yes, you have to go back to Kerbin with everyone else.

Lancott: Of course, ma'am. I can't remember the last time I had, well, any fresh food. 

Val: KSC, this is Valentina Kerman, we're planning on replacing the struts between the propulsion module and the CSM in a few days, and maybe doing some work on the magnetic field generator. Also, uh, we've gotta have a doctor look at the dosage we'll be soaking up. 

Bill: Expect system glitches in the near future, folks.

Melfrey: And transforming into mutants?

Bill: If radiation was that cool, we wouldn't need multiple layers of protection against it. 

The days and months passed by (I'm gonna have a Kerbal month be the same thing as a week) as the little dot of a spacecraft spiraled higher and higher. The systems slowly fried, life support efficiency slowly wore down, supplies ran lower and lower, and the Kerbals' bodies absorbed more and more space rays. But sailing ships wear down over time, why should it be different for anything else that goes where it wasn't built? One day, maybe driven by boredom, by guilt, or by the perspective of being at the highest vantage point of any Kerbal yet, Bill decided to make a call.

...

You have one new message.

Hearing the notification, Todd slowly stirred from the semiconsciousness of rewatching old movies. He wasn't expecting anybody to contact him at this time, so he was curious enough to actually get off of the couch and check his monitor. A video message, sender name... Azade Actual. Assuming it was a joke, he hit the button to open conversation regardless. 

Bill: Hi Todd, it's me, Bill, calling from about a hundred light-seconds away! I was planning on calling earlier, much earlier, but, I, well... I didn't forget to. I just didn't quite know what to say. "Hey, how's it going ever since you were forced to quit for beating up Wernher?" I'm friends with him, if I had said something, you'd probably still be working there. But I didn't say anything. Not that I felt it was completely unfair, but now one of our best mission control people, last I heard, has no job, and it's kinda my fault. ...how's it going?

Todd: ...Hey Bill, I'm doing pretty well, thanks. Um, thanks for calling me from heckin' interplanetary space! You're really going out of your way here, you don't need to feel like it's another responsibility. Same goes for me getting fired, now that I hear you were considering bailing me out I'm really glad you didn't. I did something, so I've got to take the full consequences for it, that's the only way to make it right. Your intel on my employment status is a bit outdated, though. Ionic Symphonic Protonic Electronics hired me about two months back. I didn't even apply - they're best buds with the KSP, so I reckoned being fired from the latter didn't do much for my reputation, but instead I get an email about them looking for "engineers with passion." Sure, I'm a certified techie, but that's less than a year in school, and I haven't done much related work since, so a lot of the job's that impostor syndrome stuff you all were on about - still, I like it. They... well, somebody at some point said that life has no second chances, but even though I blew it, I still get an essential spot working around spacecraft. Even if I'm in the background, I still kinda get to be on the team making history, y'know?

Bill: Hey Todd, thanks for answering. I'm glad to hear that you've got a source of income again, and that you're still part of something bigger. Getting a little probe or a handful of Kerbals up there takes hundreds or thousands working in the background. I seem to remember your old place looking completely different, so your new job must pay pretty well to have gotten you a house. What sort of stuff are you working on now?

...

Todd: Yeah, I just moved in. Still haven't quite gotten around to unpacking. The biggest downside is that the job required me to live near their headquarters, so I had to move to Massif, right on the edge of the badlands. I'm still pretty rusty with the language, and the locals switching to Auc when they see me doesn't help with that. Now I'm on the ISPE concepts team, where being a solid rock of sense who asks stupid questions is someone they really need. Our latest proposals are actually commercial. No satellites before the Summit-class have those redundant computer systems, or deductive onboard troubleshooting, so they're all shorting out from space radiation pretty quickly. I'm sure you've heard, but we lost the Anklebiter 1 comsat two days ago, which leaves just the other two keostationary probes for commercial purposes, plus that weather satellite which is due to reenter soon. Add that to the fact that between them, there's only one transceiver actually suited for coming in loud and clear through the atmosphere, and the "for Kerbin" part of "Off Kerbin, for Kerbin" seems a little bit more tenuous. People can squeeze a tonne of uses out of even the most basic of functioning probes, but that creates a huge demand for ad-hoc shipping navigation, weather reporting, planetary communication, science data, loads of other things. So we're helping the KSC engineers design a new class of keostationary comsat, basically modern software and protection plus as many moderately-sized relay dishes as possible. Give our thanks to Valentina Kerman, by the way, for pitching that project so it could actually get done. Second up are government plans to put a probe "in a dangerously low orbit" around the sun, which requires a dish that doesn't burn, melt, boil, fry, or whatever happens in space. Third priority is the workaholic side project as we call it, a satellite navigation network.

Bill: I'll make sure to tell her. Satellite navigation, though... don't we already have that? A powerful ground-based transmitter sends a signal in the general direction of the satellite, the satellite spins to look right at the signal, and you've got a general location. I heard the margin of error is something like 50 km, so it's only really good for ships and planes that are lost. But every time we do that, the spacecraft has to drop what it's doing and spin to face the vehicle, which would be a huge problem for the new keostationary sats... how would it work? Just have a few small synchronous probes for the ships and planes?

...

Todd: Actually, they're planning an even more over-engineered system. Have a satellite with a radio that just broadcasts across the surface of Kerbin, sending it's angle and time. When a ground-based satnav computer gets this, it compares the time that the signal was sent with the time that it was received, and calculates the distance between it and the satellite. There'll be a big ring of stuff on Kerbin that's all the same distance away from said satellite, so this might seem less useful than the beacon method. But if you have three or four satellites broadcasting within range at the same time, you can look at those overlapping rings until all of them meet at one point - where the satnav receiver is. This way, the satellite just has to beam its signal across the surface, bringing the cost down and making it accessible to the general public, plus satellite navigation is suddenly accurate. It'd be a whole new market! The only issue is that we'd need like 20 satellites, all set up in complex clockwork patterns. So it might be on the unfeasible side.

They conversed over the course of several days, Bill covering just about every topic he could think of over the course of the year or so since they last talked. Music, television, local cuisine, politics, even weather, because the weather was actually interesting and conversation-worthy nowadays. Of particular interest was the upcoming Wrangler mission.

The asteroids originally tracked by the Azade's telescope had slipped under the radar, thanks in part to overworked employees at the tracking station slipping up. It was only when Gene was reminded of asteroids when buying rock candy that he asked the tracking station staff about it, who promptly learned that the time for anything asteroid-related had mostly long since passed. The Class E had already flown by Kerbin, the Class C had quietly disintegrated over Kerbin, but the Class B asteroid, in an amazing coincidence of nature, had passed Kerbin just at the right angle and altitude to slip into orbit. Its path was crazily inclined, eccentric, even retrograde, but this miniscule rock was practically begging to be visited. And there was someone willing to go on a trip. Sabnol, Auclal's giant, sparsely inhabited western neighbour, was a little bit unhappy with the embarrassment of all of the world's spaceflight being in the hands of their former rival. Refurbishing their own spaceflight facilities at considerable expense, they started off by matching CNAD's cheap, tiny weather probe with their own. But in the eyes of their newly elected government, there were a few more national humiliations to undo. Back in the early days of spaceflight, they had to sit back and watch from orbit as they were beaten first to the Mün, then Minmus, all while they could barely manage a few launches to low orbit. Landing on either of those places wouldn't do much then rub salt into the wound of losing the space race, so they were quite excited to hear that there was a rock in orbit that hadn't been visited yet, even if it was smaller than a space station. A failed geostationary comsat launch took out Sabnol's just-rebuilt launchpad, though, and they didn't even have all the necessary tech to catch a space rock. The Kerbal Space Programme was a bit unhappy at being seen as just "a space programme in Auclal", though, and went full international cooperation mode. Splitting the bill, the Wrangler co-developed asteroid catcher probe was soon ready to launch.

Kerbal Space Centre

Still, the newly revived Sabnolian space programme wasn't content to just help build spacecraft that still essentially belonged to their rival, so even as the Wrangler flew into a retrograde orbit, they were patching their launchpad for the manned mission. Matching asteroid TPY-350's not-quite-interplanetary orbit took too much delta-v to practically consider bringing along life support and a science lab, so the mission planners really hoped that those theories about water ice in asteroids would pay off, allowing the Wrangler to manufacture fuel and bring the orbit down to something sane.

About to shoot past the tiny rock at rather impressive speeds, it took every litre of fuel, plus some monopropellant, for the Wrangler to finally match relative velocities. Mid-final-approach, someone finally got the last-second idea to maybe retract the solar panels.

KSP mission controllers were mostly politely bemused as Sabnolian employees and onlookers erupted into cheers, once upon "touchdown", a second time  when the drilled samples found water ice. This wasn't another world, it was an insignificant little space rock, buy hey, one could say that they had just done the first "landing" on an asteroid. The lawyer-level-weasling needed to present this as a major accomplishment took the excitement out of it for some, though. Just when someone was about to suggest they fire up the converter, the mission scientists brought up the small question of ethics. The sample drill had found little bits of organic molecules near the very centre of the asteroid. Could life, the building blocks for it, or Kerbin's oceans have come from constant bombardment by comets and asteroids? It was a common theory that held great weight. Since this little asteroid was carrying some organic passengers, or, most hauntingly head-scratching, tiny life that they just hadn't quite found yet, did they have the right to churn through it for rocket fuel? Sabnol launch command had to admit that it was a pretty good question, but they didn't want a question of ethics, they wanted an answer. Do we have the right, yes or no, tell us right now. The scientists poured over sample data, doing the best ad-hoc analysis they could, and came up with the answer of "sure". It seemed like there was no way for even the hardiest microbes to survive in this sort of setting, and the organic molecules didn't seem to get very complex. So rocket fuel it was, squirted out in tiny bursts any time any was made, the correctional RCS doing it's best to account for the instability of strapping a boulder to the top of the Wrangler. Through this method, they actually managed to get the apoapsis lower than the Mun's orbit. 

Over the course of one orbit, they had sucked up every last bit of water, managing to fill the tank a little more than halfway. Only partially refueled, they could get themselves into an even, mostly equatorial orbit... but still a retrograde one. Running the engine until the tank was dry again, the Wrangler probe was basically at geostationary altitude, only going backwards. While the manned vehicle was readied, the KSC was testing a little side-project: Javier Outpost.

Javier Kerman was a pre-cataclysm entrepreneur whose work, reaching its peak with the arctic biodome, was about the greatest contribution to spacecraft life support. His inventions, used in healthcare, tunneling, submarines, firefighting, etc., had made the Kerbal nearly a household name. When the KSP approached him with the problem of life support for the upcoming Eve base, he was more than willing to step out of retirement to help - provided that the test craft would be named after him. Such a base would need to be self-sustaining, able to keep its Kerbals fed, watered, and oxygenated without regular cargo flights. Kerbals needed a greenhouse for their food, which along with recyclers would produce enough oxygen, but the plants may or may not end up needing more water than could be recycled, and plants sucked up nutrients. Said nutrients could be refined from the ore found across Eve's surface, but water, if it were needed, would be a different matter. While Javier Outpost, sitting on the edge of space centre property, verified the life support math, Inquirer 1 set to scanning Eve for even the smallest source of water.

Medium Eve Orbit

They found a few. While water did not seem to occur normally on Eve, it seemed to be present at the rims of craters, actually lending credit to those "space gave us water" theories. The exception to the "not normally occurring" rule was the entire Eastern Sea, the surface of which seemed to be 4.65% liquid water, but it wasn't anywhere near one of the three landing sites. Gamma was the only landing zone with water within a stone's throw of the water of a crater rim. It didn't decide the case for a landing site, as Javier Outpost seemed to indicate that the initial math regarding base water supplies was a bit pessimistic, and that only ore would need to be mined for a self-sustaining system. But just in case a design flaw was causing water vapour to seep in from Kerbin's atmosphere, it would be good to at least have a boat, rover or plane with the ready capability of making a water run.

Baikerbanur Space Centre, Sabnol

The Kodiov spacecraft, Sabnol's first manned rocket in many years, was finally off the pad. Lacking trained astronauts, they finally found Jendan, a veteran engineer from the 'ol Skoddoy missions, and Mobert, a KSP hire fresh from the lab. The latter, while quite excited about getting to do field science in space, was quite aware that they were only really doing this so Sabnol could say it was the first to land on a particular rock. 

It was no surprise that that the Kodiov was a bit of a crude design, but the ring of tiny SRBs in particular made Mobert a bit nervous. Apparently those would be responsible for the de-orbit burn, as they weren't expected to have any liquid fuel left by the time of rendezvous. But thanks to Jendan's surprisingly good flying, there were still a few drops left in the tank.

Jendan slowly climbed out, the premier's droning speech blaring through his headset the entire time. He was glad to be back in space, especially to be at an asteroid, but he still got the sense that it was being overdramatized a little.  

After the speech, he poked the rock (to much applause back home), then quietly got to work - what he was best at. The surface was mostly iron, but he eventually managed to drill a handhold to it. Meanwhile, Mobert politely waited in the sparse lab, not wanting to disturb a national moment of triumph. Eventually they started setting up the science equipment, but, as it turned out, there wasn't actually a lot more that the field equipment could tell them.

...

Interplanetary space, near Duna's orbital path

Rainband defence computer active.

SENSORS: Unknown signature detected, at range 4.7 km and closing.

TACTICAL SYSTEMS: Diagnostic complete, cloak systems fully functioning.

GYROSCOPE ROTATION: 96.5 right, 12.5 up.

TACTICAL SYSTEMS: Torpedo guidance 1,2, active. 

TACTICAL SYSTEMS: Firing 1,2.

...

Mobert: ...Yes, okay, I see Duna now, cool! You're still really far out, though, I think I might have a pretty similar view out of my window. Got a tonne of lab data to analyze, but it's getting boring fast, and Jendan is more of the strong silent type. So there's my old hobby of browsing the internet, and of course looking down at the planet is pretty nice.

Val: Sure sounds like a lab job, except for the space part. Just remember, boredom is the army of... um... enemies... or however the saying goes. But find something to do! Look at the stars, make up your own constellations, for example. You're an astronaut now, you're famous enough to call random academic conventions, star in people's music videos, endorse nonprofits - you know, have an impact. Why, just yesterday - 

Melfrey: Sorry to disturb you, Val, but there's a big happenstance going on.

Val: Sorry, Mobert, give me a little bit. There's a problem? 

Melfrey: Probably. Sensors detected a large energy signature in solar orbit, followed by what appears to be a garbled transmission.

Val: Transmission? As in, not of natural origin?

Melfrey: Nope. It's actually Kerbal! We managed to unscramble a bit of it, and, well... it's a general distress call.

Hearing this, Val's eyes widened, the fact that this was definitely a very grave situation finally sinking in. With a quick apology to Mobert, she switched off the videochat, bringing up the sensor data. Bill and Lancott squeezed into the command pod to have a look.

Val: Distress call... from what? Barring that, from where?

Melfrey: I don't know what sent it... but the source is near the orbital plane of Duna.

Lancott: Location was consistent with a vessel on a Kerbin-Duna trajectory.

Bill: Those readings... well, they're indicative of an explosion. 

Val: So... a secret probe enroute to Duna sent out a distress call, then exploded? 

Bill: Seems so... but why would it send out a general distress call? One without any situational data? The only people who can do anything are over at mission control, and they'd need to know what's going on.

Val: A watership sends out that kind of distress call. Not a spaceship. "Help please" is only much good when someone can fly over and see what the problem is.

Melfrey: The rest of the transmission looked garbled... but I think it might actually be encoded data.

Bill: Can you decode it?

Melfrey: No. You'd need a secret password.

Lancott: ...then what do we do?

The question was seemingly answered with a timely call from mission control, the stoic CAPCOM voice bearing a lot more urgency than normal.

KSC: Azade, this is mission control. For your own safety, DO NOT APPROACH the source of the signal, I repeat, DO NOT APPROACH. Continue your present course and speed, and intensely monitor the area around you. Be ready for an emergency course corrective burn if absolutely necessary.

Bill: Oh. I get it. Who sends secret things into space that seem to go wrong sometimes?

Val, Lancott, Melfrey: Combined National Aviation.

Bill: Knowing anything about them, it probably blew itself up when someone stirred the oxygen tanks a little funny.

Val: Bill... could we rendezvous with it?

Bill: Wha- that's the exact opposite of our orders!

Val: Bill, it's... it's a distress call. You don't ignore a distress call. Last time there was a secret thing in space that went wrong, Irzon was stranded in space.

Melfrey: I was pretty sure we were the only interplanetary ship in general, but we're definitely the only ship in range to do anything.

Lancott: I've extracted a probably trajectory for them, Bill, we're crossing it in a dozen or so days.

Bill: Let me see that computer... nope, we cannot rendezvous with them. Not even if, once out of fuel, we decoupled the propulsion module and used up all the monopropellant. 

Val: What about a close approach? We could just do a quick flyby, see if there's anyone in need of rescue, broadcast the data to every single person on Kerbin... well, we've got to do something, anything. 

Bill: ...

Val: Well?

Bill: Yes. We could pass by within a few hundred km. But with the fuel that would use up, we'd need to use the abort system to get home, and use Kerbin's atmosphere to land. The Azade wouldn't be re-usable at the end of the mission.

Val: If we passed by close, could we use the telescope to get a good look at the wreckage?

Lancott: Yes ma'am. 

Val: More immediately, I'm going to send a hail in their general direction, ask if they need help. If it's manned and the pilot survived, they've got to answer.

Suddenly, the lights flashed off, the controls and computer screens all going dead. The remote override had been activated. Mission control appeared on the main screen, Gene Kerman flanked by the government representative. Everyone else in the shot just seemed kinda confused, but the Gene and the government bloke's expressions were angry, serious. Bill tried to give Val a "I knew it" sort of look as Gene began to yell at them to not change course, but she was no longer there. Seconds later, Gene's voice cut out suddenly, the video disappeared, the controls and the computer screens lit back up. Val drifted back up from the science lab, looking a bit guilty.

Bill: What-what did you do!?

Val: I overrode the override. Switched the radio off. You'd better check our computer systems, make sure nobody sneakily uploaded a virus or anything.

Bill: Is this - are we mutineering? A-at least when Jeb does it, it's funny, but - I didn't sign up for this. Can they charge us as criminals? 

Val: ...you've got a point. A ship isn't a democracy - the captain always knows what to do - but the rules are different when you break them. I'd ask if anyone wants to back out, expecting everyone to wholeheartedly toss the rulebook out of the window to do what's right, but that doesn't seem to be the case here. So Bill. What if that's a manned ship and somebody survived? Would you be able to live with just moving along? 

Bill: No... but we won't be able to slow down, either. What use is flying by their debris if all we can do is shout an apology?

Val: The world would know. If we knew they were alive, we could burn all of our fuel slowing down a little, assemble the last probe with the emergency life support container attached, and send them a little care package. Heck, maybe we could even put a chair on it, so they could ride the probe back over to us. We've got more than enough supplies to survive, and even if the world wouldn't know, I know for sure that Gene would send a rescue ship. I don't know how much trouble we'll get in, but I know right, and I know wrong, and I have the good grace to know which is which.

Melfrey: The probe-chair trick... could it work?

Bill: ...I think so. 

Val: Are you in?

Melfrey: Yep.

Lancott: Even if I never go up again, at least I get to do something cool.

Bill: Yeah, but, Val. You may have signed our death warrants, or at best, our arrest warrants. Just making sure you know that.

Val: ...I'll set up the debris flyby burn.

Bill: I'll check if the computers are sick.

Days later, shortrange radio still yielding no response, they got close enough to the cloud of debris for a good telescope picture.

Bill: We're getting that magnetic field issue again, Val.

Val: Is it an immediate danger?

Bill: No.

Val: Then ignore it for now. Lancott! What're we looking at?

Lancott: It's a field of various bits of debris... the parts that we know of are spread out over several kilometres, but there's a relatively large chunk about in the middle.

Val: Then that's what we put our hopes in. Tell me when you get an optical image processed.

Lancott: Just got the notification, captain, it's done.

Val: How bad's the damage?

Lancott: ...it's bad.

Melfrey: Is that a little car? Why would there be a car in space? 

Bill: No, behind the rover. Why is there... why is there no cockpit?

Val: Could it be somewhere else in the debris field? 

Lancott: No, there's no debris big enough.

Val: Maybe there wasn't one, maybe it was unmanned...

Lancott: I doubt it, captain.

Bill: But besides the missing cockpit, most of the spacecraft is relatively intact... what sort of accident does that? 

Val: And what kind of ship was it in the first place? 

Melfrey: I see a chair or two on that rover. It had to be planning on landing on Duna. Right under our noses. No clue how they'd get back, though.

Lancott: I'm guessing those are heat resistant tiles grouped around the bottom, then, that'd make sense for a tail-first atmospheric entry.

Bill: Val... debris closest approach is in two minutes. Should we do something?

Val: We resume course. In light of all available evidence, I have to conclude that if this vessel was manned, the crew... they're dead.

Val: Burn complete. We are back on course towards Duna, periapsis 60,000 kilometres.

Melfrey: There was a video game I played once... I forget the name, but whenever you got a radio message from someone asking for help, even if they seemed ok, they were dead when you arrived. Even if you arrived as fast as physically possible. But hey, at least you got to loot their stuff.

Val: ...this was all for nothing. I got us all in big trouble, and nobody got anything out of it. 

Bill: Well... at least we know we didn't leave anybody behind. 

Lancott: What do we do now, Captain?

Val: ...I'll open a radio channel. I'm in no mood to become a fugitive. Maybe they'll let me take full responsibility. 

By now, mission control had been cleared of all but the few absolutely essential personnel, plus Gene, the government representative, and four officers. They all listened intently as Val finished explaining what had happened, sending in the images they had processed. 

Val: ...then, once we realized that there was nobody alive to find, we flipped around and resumed course.

Bill: There should be enough fuel to get home if we use the escape system heat shield, and hit the atmosphere to slow down upon arriving at Kerbin. 

Lancott: ...are we going to be prosecuted?

Government Representative: ...no. Back in the day, I had plenty of those moments, you know, "frak the rules, I'm doing what's right", and you all had the intention of saving lives. So I've got to sympathize. Not that meaning well is an excuse for endangering top secret information, mind you, but arresting and criminally charging famous astronauts the moment they return from space would endanger said information far more. So just... this situation's gotten out of hand enough already. You know things, the mission controllers here already know things, let's just delete all relevant data onboard the Azade, have shipboard voice recording be permanently on, and never speak about this to anyone else ever. Okay? Okay.

...

Melfrey: Will we ever fly again?

Gene: ...I don't know... Probably not. At least not for a while. But even without all of this, the doctor would probably be looking at your medical file and telling you the same thing. Good luck out there.

...

Melfrey: If nothing had gone... wrong, would we have noticed if they had landed on Duna? 

Val: According to their projected trajectory, no, we wouldn't have. They were on a direct route to Duna, we're hitting a higher apoapsis, then falling back down towards it to encounter the planet much later. Assuming they had some way of returning, they could have left the planet long before our planned arrival.

Melfrey: So we would have been all giddy about being the first Kerbals in Duna's SOI, and, well, it wouldn't have been true? What about Eve?

Bill: Never mind that they would have beaten us to Duna, why are they dead!? What was the malfunction that specifically made the cockpit break apart? What caused the critical existence failure? Were they targeted and attacked by something?

Melfrey: That's like explaining dark energy by saying it's formed by a new force called "spoopy mysteriousness". You've invented a second thing to explain away the first thing, but then how did the second thing get there? Why/how was there another ship, and why/how did detect/blow up this ship? Why wouldn't it attack us? That's called a voodoo shark, my friend. 

Bill: I guess you're right. Then the only explanation is that they were running some experimental stuff, and ended up exploding themselves? Or that their spacecraft was just really badly designed?

Lancott: This trip is no longer very fun.

[VelocityPolaris]

Story 7: Test the Waters, Chapter 9: The pumpkin pie planet

(Author's note: Today's chapter is brought to you by me being too busy to write anything last week. Also, I think there was a major holiday just recently that I'm forgetting about... pi day, that was it! Happy belated pi day!)

Today's Fun Facts (we've got two today!):
Number one. When a Kerbal physically exerts themselves, they may cool down by the release of water vapour from their head, similar to human sweating. If a Kerbal completes strenuous exercise often enough, their hair may permanently clump upwards, super-saiyan style, though this is usually counteracted by powder applied during haircuts.

Number two. The Ractyl is not the most well-known mythological creature on Kerbin, that award easily goes to the Kraken, but it's somewhere up there. A Ractyl is a vengeful creature mentioned in some Idor (A historically Massifster religious sect) scriptures, as a monster that punished bad Kerbals. It's form was grotesque, shifting, and largely incomprehensible, one could not hide from it, and it could only be injured, deterred, or killed by holy means. Some modern conspiracy theories believe it to have been an animal existing in four spatial dimensions.

 

Arekibo Island, Ceyorne.

A Kerbals ran/jogged/scurried by the science labs at the top of the island, water vapour shooting from his head as he exhaustedly tried to keep pace. When the flight doctors found that Jeb had "recovered" sufficiently from his brief spaceflight at this former resort island, he was ordered to jog up and down the village all morning. Stopping right by Lasky, one of the sciencers running the 'scope, Jeb tried to look less like a Kerbal about to evaporate and collapse at the same time.

Lasky: Jeb! Are you alright? You look like a Ractyl's been chasing you! 

Jeb: *huff* Mythical creatures *huff* don't exist *huff* Lasky. The doctors just thought *huff* I should be in shape *huff* for the Eve trip.

Lasky: Well, I guess that makes sense. If you're not that strong, it's gonna be really hard to get enough blood to your head in high gravity. Besides, it's not like you're going to have to compete with actual athletes, right?

Jeb: ...hope not. I overheard Danby on the line with Bill, I think they might be conspiring to sign me up for the Global Relay Race*. 

Lasky: What's the asterisk for?

Jeb: *of pain. Now, what did you want to tell me?

They walked over the railing, looking out at the giant grey bowl of the telescope. 

Lasky: We've always been on the verge of closing, lack of funding haunting the dreams of every employee, volunteer, even the visiting tourists. Especially a few years after the cataclysm, when general public opinion went from "What the hecko decko happened" to "I cannot see the stars, therefore they do not exist".

Jeb: "Cataclysm." Ok, we have clouds and storms now, the air got heavy enough to make doing stuff outside unpleasant, and eventually it was a cataclysm for the space science budget. But why not call it the "inconvenience"?

Lasky: Perspective. You live in one of the richest countries, near the equator, and your status means you never have to worry too much about your own well being. But if you were a farmer who relies entirely on one crop that won't grow now, a fisherman in a fishing town that never had to deal with bad weather once, anybody who made just enough money by working outside all day, or a sailor, well, it wouldn't have been so great. Back when I was in school, I remember not knowing what all of these economic numbers meant on the radio, just that they sounded like one of those sci-fi damage reports.

Jeb: ...yeah. I'm sorry. 

Lasky: Also sorry... I didn't plan to go on a rant. Switching back subjects?

Jeb: Switching back subjects.

Lasky: Helping to form that guild definitely helped - they're the only reason the telescope never got closed down and turned into a skateboarding park.

Jeb: Though it would make a pretty sweet skatepark.

Lasky: Even when the space programme restarted, since we were the only place that could do planetary RADAR, that was basically the only thing that kept our operations afloat. But as of a few days ago... no more funding problems.

Jeb: What happened?

Lasky: Some government negotiations. In exchange for a lot of debt forgiving, your country got ours to start giving the array an actually usable amount of money. Provided, of course, that the scientists from Auclal get a disproportionate slice of telescope time. 

Jeb: Is that bad?

Lasky: No, that's great! It doesn't matter how much time nobody's using the telescope if you can't afford to turn it on. Now there's almost unlimited possibilities of science we can do! We can work on the HAA ("Hear Any Aliens?") Directive - in fact, it's being encouraged!

Jeb: And did you find anything yet?

Lasky: Uh, no, we started doing that directive last week. But let's say we do see signs of alien broadcasts - it's the consensus of the top scientists here that we need to figure out a message to send them. And, well, since you're already a representative of all of Kerbalkind -

Jeb: "Kerbal Ambassador to the Rock/Dust Kingdom"

Lasky: - We wanted to know if you had any ideas on what to say, if the time comes. 

Jeb: Hmm. How about "We r Kerb, pls no eat"?

An incomprehensibly far distance away, someone else was doing science, as Kerbin's only (remaining) interplanetary vessel hurtled towards Duna at ridiculous speed. 

Bill: Getting any good pictures?

Val: I would be, but we're coming in on the wrong side to see anything, darn sun. The computer says I got Ike in the shot, but I can't even see it. Say, what's our trajectory status?

Bill: Like that of a scooter on a roller coaster track. We'll scream by periapsis in 3 and a half hours, about 60 kilometres above the planet's surface. 

Val: "Please keep all hand and feet inside the vehicle at all times."

Bill: Should I suit up?

Val: Yeah, we'd better hurry up and do that construction EVA.

...

Val: Airlock's clear! Everybody's got a handhold, right?

Lancott: Aye, Cap'n!

Melfrey: Ready to start building!

Bill: Alright, we'll start with the fuel drums. This time, make sure we start with a solid anchor between the probe and the Azade.

Val: Uh, sure thing, boss. 

Bill: Uh, the airlock's blocked now.

Val: Sorry, Bill.

Bill: Alright, alright. Uh, if we need to get in quickly, we can either disconnect the pipe, or... Melfrey, can you depressurize and open the capsule airlocks remotely?

Melfrey: Yessir, just let me hit some random buttons. You can go ahead and keep building the probe here.

Bill: Battery connected, flywheel connected... Lancott, your turn with the engine, probe core, and heat shield. You got it?

Lancott: I got it. 

Val: Alright, the parachute and camera are next on the list, I think.

Bill: I'll do it. 

Melfrey: Let me guess. You don't want anybody else messing it up?

Lancott: Melfrey, I'm sure that's not it.

Bill: No, you're right. Remember how the Eve probe nearly exploded because all of the side parts were so close to the front? I'm the only engineer on the team, I should be doing the building here. Besides, putting a parachute on the inside of the probe is hard.
(because it's impossible in real life)

Val: Alright, Bill. You're the engineer, you do what needs to be done to make sure this probe survives hitting the Dunian atmosphere at this speed. But make sure Melfrey gets a turn.

(Author's note: Whoops. Er, ignore the "select screenshot area" thing in the below picture, please.)

Bill: Very well, Val. Melfrey, you need to -

Melfrey: Lights, solar panels, sensors. I got it.

Bill: *sigh* No, no, let me do it.

Melfrey: What'd I do? Everything's on the bottom, it's away from the heatshield as planned!

Bill: Nothing, you're ok. We just have four more lights to add, plus the antenna. This is tricky, can I do it?

Melfrey: If you must.

Val: That's it, then. Let me just remove the connector pipe, and... Last one back inside is a radioactive mutant!

They clambered back into the airlock, the room flooding with air. But on his way back inside, Bill accidentally bumped Hephae II, sending it slowly spinning away from the spacecraft. 

Lancott: Melfrey... you've gotten kinda snappy. 

Melfrey: Yeah... I noticed. People with emotional squabbles isolated in deep space for long periods of time is bad. I guess I'm just a bit on edge after, you know, that explosion, seeing the debris, learning that someone might have died.

Lancott: We all are. But... I guess we've got a job to do. And a rather important one at that.

Val: Hey... everyone, I've got news. It looks like our last RCS adjustment prompted some recalculating, and, well, it turns out we'll be going through Ike's gravity.

Lancott: Aw, it's just guarding its home.

Bill: Does that mess with our trajectory?

Val: Nope, we'll be passing through the outer edge of its SOI... at our speed, that'd take about 2 and a half minutes. 

Melfrey: So we've got to science pretty quickly, huh?

Val: Yeah, and we've got 12 minutes between that and the Duna periapsis. 

Lancott: That's a problem. The first close look at Duna's surface and we barely get time to do anything!

Val: Plus the probe will hit the atmosphere at about the same time... we'll have to come up with a list of instrumentation priorities, work as fast as possible. This'll be one fast flyby.

As they plummeted towards the red planet, the likeable moon scurried across the sky to try and greet them. But its eagerness at having guests caused it to be too fast, and managed to only graze the ship with the far edge of its gravitational pull.

Melfrey: Here we are, the edge of Ike's SOI. It's not very bright.

Lancott: Science equipment is sciencing at maximum speed! You can step out at any moment, skipper.

Val: Good to hear, exiting the airlock now. Oh, that's quite a sight. Of Duna, I mean, not much of Ike is really visible.

Lancott: Hey... uh... doesn't Duna look a bit different to you?

Bill: Yeah... suspicious... hold on, I've got the picture we took on Oculus station somewhere.

Bill: There! It's - it's not - right! Just like with Eve! I bet if the station was looking at Duna right now, they'd see the exact same thing as we did back then!

Lancott: From here, the surface is all hazy... looks like a lot of dust got kicked up, probably with a static charge. 

Bill: I've asked before, I'm sure, but why is the planet different now?

Lancott: The universe accidentally dropped Duna and Eve, then replaced them with their evil twins, hoping nobody would notice? The colourful atmospheres are just how we perceive their 4-dimensional goatees. 

Bill: Anything scientific? Or why it looks like the old Duna from Kerbin?

Lancott: I don't know - that's Melfrey's department, and I don't think he has any ideas, either. 

Val: Folks, we just hit Ike periapsis, I recommend you worry about the negative space wedgie later. 

Bill: Sorry Val, just curious.

Bill: Hephae II is on course, periapsis 30 km. It'll go in a minute or two before we do.

Val: 30 km? That sounds too shallow.

Bill: It does... but the thermodynamic model suggests it's the deepest we can go without burning up. It might not make orbit.

Lancott: But the atmosphere's so thin! The Eve probe made orbit just fine.

Bill: Hephae II's probe core's too far up front... the circuits will get fried if it gets slammed any worse.

Val: I see. Well, if we can't make landing, we need to make sure that we get some atmospheric data back. Let's err on the side of caution.

Lancott: Sorry, Bill. After all that effort you put into building the probe right...

Bill: Yeah. Space is hard.

Melfrey: Weren't these probes designed as impactors?

Bill: True, but that might not work. I'm not sure anything would survive to hit the surface.

Val entered the now depressurized lander-can to wait to get closer to Duna, while Melfrey and Lancott entered the science lab airlock to prepare for EVA. Picking up speed faster than a puppy when dinner is served, Hephae II plunged towards the planet, shooting flames that would make a motorcyclist jealous. 

Bill: Circuits, please make sure your seatbelts are securely fastened, we're coming in hot!

Lancott: I take it the probe's entered the atmosphere? 

Melfrey: How's it look?

Val: Is that probe core doing alright?

Bill: Probe core is pretty hot, but it's within safety parameters. All sensors are going, air seems to mostly be carbon dioxide as expected.

Lancott: Do you see any credit to my dust particle speculation?

Bill: What was that again?

Lancott: Something kicks up light dust particles in the Dunian atmosphere, maybe radiation does a static thingy. So some particles are flung up in the atmosphere, and that's why the air is red now.

Bill: Sounds plausible, I'll let you look and the data and be the judge of that later. 

Val: Wait, wouldn't that be the result of increased solar output? And it was going up beyond recorded historical parameters, now it's going down beyond recorded historical parameters, can't the sun just make up it's mind?

Melfrey: Maybe interstellar radiation can do the same static thingy. But as for the sun, we don't really have an idea of what's going on. That's why they're building that low Kerbol orbit probe.

Val: I take it low orbit means "as low as we can go until everything overheats"?

Melfrey: Doubt it. Any permanent changes to the sun tend to be long-term. Granted, they're usually very long term changes, but the most benefit still comes from the longest observation time.

Bill: We're past Duna periapsis, temperatures are a bit lower now. By the way, I'm seeing some pretty cool surface altitude variation here. 

Val: Hills and mountains, eh? That would certainly be a problem for any future landing. 

Bill: I've got all of the atmospheric sensor readings I can, but it seems that Hephae II is being spit back out. 

Val: Maybe there's still a chance of making orbit. Bill, have the probe do a full retro-burn, everything it's got.

Bill: Probe parking brake is on, Val, but it isn't going to be enough. We are going fast. By the way, I'm seeing that volcanic soot again, from the observations on Oculus station. Just saw some clouds, too - light grey blankety-whispy stuff at high altitude, covering a large swath of terrain.

Val: Alright, Bill, we're nearing periapsis. As interesting as your commentary was, I need to see this place for myself. Start running the command pod through the EVA depressurisation sequence so you can join us.

Bill: Roger that, let me run all of the science gear first. I'm deactivating the magnetic field generator again, by the way.

Val: Cowabunga!!!

Bill: How's the view?

Val: I know this is stating the obvious, but it's a whole new world down there. I wish I could reach down and touch the surface.

Melfrey: But it's dusty, dead, nothing like Kerbin.

Val: No, of course it's not Kerbin, but it'd be pretty boring to come all of this way for the same thing. And it's an active, changing world, too. 

Lancott: Those cloudy dust blankets might have been the Dunian equivalent of weather.

Val: And who's to say life has to live in the same places and ways it does on Kerbin? There could totally be aliens down there.

Lancott: A civilisation is practically out of the question at this point, but even burrowing bugs would be supercool. By the way, we're exiting the airlock now. 

Val: Alright you two, get in formation, we're doing a group photo. 

Val: Sorry, Bill. We'll take another picture once you're outside.

Bill: Understood, can't wait to win that company group photo contest.

The Azade zoomed back outwards as it's occupants briefly returned to the airlock, to watch the planet below recede, and to wait for Bill to be ready to exit.

Bill: There's still some nitrogen in the command pod air, it might take a little bit longer for the EVA. Great view of Ike and Duna, though.

Lancott: Could you get a picture of Ike, please? Obviously, we didn't see much on the dark side.

Bill: Sure.

Bill: That's a huge star in the background, lower right... or a nebula... or a galaxy... or a splotch on the lens.

Melfrey: Well, what is it?

Bill: Look, I'm not an astronomer, okay? We can worry about the space splotch when far more interesting things aren't in sight. ...alright, I finally plugged the camera feed into the shipwide network, tell me what you think of this.

Melfrey: Hurricane Rusty!

Lancott: Cool... I guess I was right about Duna having a weather cycle.

Val: Any future landings will probably have to deal with that sort of dust storm, hopefully it's not too dangerous. 

Lancott: Look at that. It's actually kinda eerie how similar it looks to Kerbin.

Val: Did it ever look perhaps blue-er, or green-er? If so, what happened to it?

Lancott: It would have needed a much thicker atmosphere to support life as we know it. Who knows, that could totally have been the case a long time ago.

Duna rapidly receded into the distance as the command pod finally depressurised, allowing Bill and the others to gaze straight out at the strange surface below them.

Val: Good job, everyone, let me just have a look at the picture, and... why was nobody smiling for the camera?

Bill: Sorry, this is hard.

Melfrey: Where's the button to stop spinning?

Val: I should rename the personnel file folder from "Azade crew" to "Space tumble buds". 

As Bill saw with his own eyes the hazy, dusty air, the mysterious storms, the icy poles, the craters, hills, and valleys, his stomach rumbled, and he thought of pie.

Melfrey: Data transmission complete, all atmospheric science is now safely back home.

Lancott: Well, Hephae II never did manage to land on Duna, but I'd say we got in a pretty nice consolation prize.

Edited April 8, 2018 by VelocityPolaris

[VelocityPolaris]

Happy April Fools / Tiangong crash day!

Sorry to disappoint my reader, but no new chapter today. Real life can be pretty time-consuming sometimes. But to show that I'm not just planning on ditching this story and avoiding the entirety of the KSP forum out of irrational fear again, here's a teaser screenshot for the next chapter!

Spoiler

What could this possibly be? I'll give ya three guesses.

 

I think ambient lighting might have been a bit too high here, but I'd say that's better than the "can't-see-a-bliddy-heckin-thing" style the screenshots in the first few chapters tended to use.

Said chapter should be out within two days of this statement. After that and possibly one more chapter, though, I'll probably be going on hiatus to try to adapt this to making history/1.4. Maybe reinstalling the mods once that's done will somehow help, since the current mod-filled glitchfest is why the chapters are in development heck.