Bees in Space - Beginner's RP1 Playthrough

[MSteele]

Yea, I’ve been lucky. I’ve reverted three times tbh. All on the same launch. All 3 were launch clamp mishaps. I thought about rolling back to move the rocket up a bit, but the 4th try was just a slight nudge.

There are like 4-5 more times when I forgot to spin up because I was distracted.

The last time I reverted was this launch. I was on the phone when I forgot to spin up.

Wife was a little confused.
 

As far as reliability is concerned… lucky.

Edited February 15 by MSteele

[MSteele]

The 6000km downrange contract opened up as soon as we finished the 5000km contract. We were very close to the 6000km mark at the end but we need to see if we can get more out of our rocket. I don't like leaving it up to chance, so I flattened out the flight profile a small amount and threw it in the simulator. After a few iterations, I was able to determine the correct parameters to program into the guidance computer.

The launch of the second Pupa IIA + Zhalo was a resounding success. It's basically the same launch as the last except for the range requirement. I'll not bore you with duplicate screenshots and commentary, but I will mention that the profile it flew is probably at the limit of what that rocket can do and things got a little toasty up around 65km.

Pay no attention to the PVG Settings window. I had that open for another sim'd rocket I was testing.

Spicy!

There are the islands we need to get to in order to reach 6000km. Rocket is tumbling at this point, but it doesn't matter.

And just barely over the finish line. Sure, the only thing left are the avionics, but it counts. I find it interesting that this flight only took 26 and a half minutes and the last flight was 30 minutes to travel 1000km less. We were bookin' it, for sure.

 

1955 29 November
Late evening
VAB Office

I am sitting at my desk eating cold Thanksgiving leftovers Melanie brought me this afternoon going over a budgeting report. All the employees have called it a day, and the only illumination in the building are the security lights shining dimly through my office widow overlooking the VAB, and my green hooded desk lamp.

I sigh quietly and approve another round of research personnel hiring. We are cutting it very close to the chin hairs but we absolutely have to have more people. The new Program will fall behind if we do not keep up with technology demands.

The sound of chains rattling against gears and aluminum panels of the delivery entrance raising startles me. Standing, I move to the window overlooking the VAB to see what all the ruckus is at this hour. As I do so, I see out of the corner of my eye Glushko bounding up the catwalk stairs toward my outer office. He is carrying a large wooden box and nearly stumbles on the last step when he sees me in the doorway looking out.

Below, at the delivery entrance, several red-tinted flashlights and dark figures are moving about with purpose, one pulling an empty cart of sorts.

Glushko staggers into my office nearly dropping the wooden box. He places it on my desk and turns to me.

"Comrade Bee. It is good you are here. It saves me the trouble of dragging this box up the stairs in the morning," he says gasping for breath. "Please turn the lights on. How can you see with such dim lighting? You'll go blind," he chastises.

"Valentin! Sit down, please," I say as I hit the light switch. "You should have had Gnut bring that box upstairs," I say trying to look past Glushko's body into the open top of the box.

"Yes, of course. Thank you, but Gnut is downstairs now gearing up for an assignment," he says as he falls into his usual spot behind my desk.

"What is this red jelly on your plate here next to the other unmentionable food?" Glushko wrinkles his nose as he pushes the budgeting papers off to the side.

"What? Oh. That is canned cranberry sauce. Easily identifiable by the imprint of the can contour, it is..."

"Never mind," he says, "it looks horrid." He pushes the plate of food over with a handkerchief to sit on top of the budget. He wrinkles his nose and places the handkerchief atop the food, hiding it from sight.

He continues, "Comrade Bee. It is nearly complete. We need just one more item and it is done."

"I'm sorry, Val. It is late, and I have no idea what you are talking about." I say, inching closer to the box.

"Nyet! This is not for you at this moment," Glushko says as he pulls the box closer toward him. "In a moment, comrade. Allow me to give my presentation without you sneaking your nose into the box!"

I take a step back and hold my hands up in surrender, one hand still holding my fork, "The floor is all yours, Val." I set the fork down on the coffee table, but with a sharp glace from Glushko I pick it back up. At a loss of what to do with the fork, I settle on putting it in my jacket pocket. Cranberry sauce no doubt staining my inside liner.

Glushko reaches into the wooden box and pulls out part of a model rocket asking, "Do you know what this is?"

He sits the model on my desk, and glances up at me over the box.

"Of course, it looks like a Pupa launch vehicle," I say, realizing Glushko is giving me a presentation on the new rocket he's been designing.

Glushko nods, "You are correct. Only this Pupa is slightly wider and taller, but not so much to be immediately noticeable."

He reaches in the box again and pulls out another model. He sits it next to the Pupa and stands back a little.

"Have a look, comrade," he says triumphantly. "This rocket will begin our next Program in earnest!"

With a nod from Glushko, I pick up the smaller rocket. It is obviously an upper stage to the Pupa.

"Valentin," I say, "this rocket doesn't have an engine. And what's under this top fairing?"

Glushko lighty slaps my hand with a Belinda he has removed from the humidor, and snatches the model away.

"Allow me, comrade." With a twist, the top of the model rocket comes apart and reveals the upper stage. He pulls it free from the rest of the model and tosses it to me."

"That, "Glushko continues, "is Pchelka. Little Bee."

I roll the model around in my hands, marveling at the detail.

"I can see you are a little confused, comrade. Not to worry, Dyadya Valentin will explain," Glushko says with a smile.

I know the word for uncle, but am a little surprised Glushko referred to himself as such. Can he be warming up to me after all these years?

Glushko takes the model back and pulls on it again. The inner portion separates from the outer with a snap, and he holds up both for me to see.

"This entire assembly will separate from the second stage and spin up to 240 RPM or thereabouts with the help of these 4 small spin motors angled so," he says pointing them out on the sides of the model.

He continues, "At that precise moment, all 12 boosters will ignite and propel the craft forward, accelerating faster than anything we have yet to put into space. Finally, when the boosters are done, this inner part will also ignite," he explains holding up the golden rocket.

"It will get our rocket up to orbital speed in just a short time. It will discard the used boosters," he goes on, "carrying our little bee... our Pchelka on its nose into orbit!"

I couldn't help myself. I applauded loudly and clapped him on the shoulder, "Wonderful! This is wonderful, Valentin! Dyayda Valentin!"

Glushko gives me a slight shake of his head, and purses his lips. Apparently, he's a part-time uncle. I take the hint.

Pointing back at the smaller second stage on the desk I say, "But what goes in the rocket hole? Surely, the XASR-1 is too weak - like a 29 year old babushka, right?"

Glushko gives me a sidelong glance and says, "You are correct, comrade. And this is where Gnut comes in." Glushko tugs at his silver pocket watch attached to his belt with a sturdy chain.

"Right about now, Gnut should be returning to the VAB with our new rocket engine," Glushko says, snapping his pocket watch shut.

I peer out the window to the VAB below, and sure enough, there was Gnut in his trucker-hat pulling a Red Flyer wagon. Strapped to the wagon, its wheels nearly buckling under the weight, is a rocket engine at least 6 times the size of the wagon body. Gnut wheels the load into the VAB with ease. Golly, but he's frikkin strong!

"Where did he get that contraption?" I ask Glushko, my voice cracking. "How much does that thing weigh? Is that my wagon? And how is Gnut so dang strong?"

"Enough!" Glushko interrupts. He walks over to the window to stand next to me and asks, "Do you remember last week when that RMI test pilot burned the tail off their new XF-91 jet with a rocket engine?"

"Yes," I say cautiously, "It was in the news. That was their Thunderceptor test aircraft. The entire tail assembly turned to molten slag."

"Exactly," Glushko says. "And this contraption is the culprit! It is an RMI designed XLR-11 rocket motor. We purchased it from Reaction Motors for kopeks on the ruble! We'll put that thing in the... as you call it: the rocket hole."

"Ah, I see," I say. "But what's with all the red flashlights and skulking around at night? And why is Gnut dressed like that and wearing his trucker-hat?"

"It is better you not worry yourself too much, comrade. Just know that Gnut left an envelope in their hangar with enough rubles to cover the cost of that engine. Minus his snack per diem, of course."

Edited February 17 by MSteele
forgot to add the last screenshot

[MSteele]

This is a bad design. I do not even know where to begin, so it will have to suffice for me to say that this is a really, really bad rocket design. I'll provide the .craft file upon request so you can shake your head as well. At least it works, sort of.

Here's the thing though, I'm so laser focused on brute forcing it to work I just ignore everything else and do not realize its a bad design until -  I swear to Christ -  when it's on the launchpad about to launch for real and not in a sim. Regardless, the next rocket may resemble this one, but it's going to have to be a brand new design.

I'll eat the costs and try to salvage some of the tooling, but I'm just shaking my head at it right now. 

Date: 1956 July 17
Location: LC6
Contract: First Artificial Satellite

Finishing up key research and getting the LC built took a little bit of time, but eventually, Pchelka was placed on the schedule.

Sitting on the pad at LC6. It was at this exact moment I knew I had messed up.

At this point, I'm sweating bullets. I know the rocket has inherent flaws and they have been covered up with a big ole dash of lipstick. That pig is flying, though! I love these Cape shots.

Here's a few shots of the Thunderbee stage with the RMI XLR-11 firing.

Just over the Karman Line where the upper fairings blow out to reveal Pchelka sitting atop the solid rocket stages. 

Thunderbee with the Bahamas in the background.

Next to the last stage firing here. The Baby Sergeants doing their job. Those tiny spin motors you can see on the bottom are not to be trusted. Ever. Even when simming tells you they are working as intended. Just. Don't.

And finally, the GCRC 33KS-2800 firing. You can't see it from this screenshot, but there is a small amount of wobbling going on here. Eventually, the wobble has turned into a serious issue that may have a negative effect on our flight.

What seemed like it was the longest 22-second burn ever passes and the tell-tale screen flip tells me we have entered an orbit. Barely meeting the contract goals.

Edited February 19 by MSteele

[GarrisonChisholm]

I love those newspaper headlines, that's the one thing that I wish I could have had in my game.  Ah well, next time.!

[MSteele]

Retcon: XLR11.

During my research looking for a suitable second stage, I conflated the XLR11 rocket motor with a later version of the XLR11 called the XLR-RM-35-1. When I was looking at the engine configs I noted the the XLR-RM-35-1 had gimbals and chose that over the first version listed. I did not pay attention to the name and assumed it was the same engine despite the name being listed on the config in game right in front of my eyes. I just blew right past that.

Additionally, I described the incident of the tail of a XF-91 being burned up by the motor we stole. That actually did happen, but not with the XLR-RM-35-1 version of the engine which was used in the Hiroc missile (Predecessor to Atlas and Viking).

XF-91 - Wikipedia Link

Hiroc Missile - Wikipedia Link

 

[MSteele]

Geeze, these forums. I should make a copy of the story somewhere.

Pchelka 2 Design and Launch
July 1956

After the launch of the Pchelka satellite, morale was high for everyone at Space-B. Snacks all around! We can not rest on our laurels, however. Glushko immediately got to work redesigning the base model of the Pupa and Thunderbee to account for discrepancies overlooked in the original.

Aside from minor tweaks, the most significant design change was to split the avionics between the Pupa and Thunderbee stages. Once Thunderbee separated from the lower stage, there is no reason to hold on to the oversized avionics package. By splitting the avionics, Thunderbee will have a dramatic increase in performance.

Additionally, Glushko recommended to modify the first stage engine to the A6 version. It uses a different fuel type, but we can modify the LC relatively cheaply. We have been pushing the original engine well past what is recommended for burn time, and if we go much further than that we could be facing a catastrophic failure. The A6 will relieve the stress of impending doom with double the burn time.

Next up is to get a satellite into a polar orbit. The satellite will not do much more than orbit, since we really do not have the technology to perform many experiments beyond temperature and pressure. In hindsight, the polar orbit and first satellite contracts could have been completed at the same time if we planned the initial rocket better.

The final design of the rocket: Pupa IV + Thunderbee + Pchelka 2. December is the soonest we can begin construction due to the need for Basic Rocketry, but we get the LC modified and ready well before then.

The day arrives for the launch. Here we are on the newly modified LC6. We will be launching toward the south instead of an easterly departure. The contract allows for an inclination between 85 and 95 degrees, and I opted to stay slightly east in my ascent to take advantage of what small amount of dV I could still gain from the rotation of the Earth. With the MJ settings below, I should end up on a 178-179 degree ascent path. 

We launch and get through the separation stages with no issue. The final stage completes the burn and a stable orbit is established. Contract complete! Sure, the Apoapsis is a lot higher than I planned for, but I haven't figured out how to dial in the orbit precisely using two unguided stages. I do, however, meet to contract requirements.

[MSteele]

Walking into the outer office, I see Melanie on the phone. She's currently gossiping about one of the new engineers with her girlfriend from the secretary pool. "Hang on a sec, Laverne," she mouths around the cigarette hanging limply from her lips. "Director Glushko's waitin' for you inside. I figured you wouldn't mind so I let him in."

Without waiting for an answer, Melanie takes a puff between pursed lips and continues her phone conversation, "As I was sayin' Laverne, he ain't no Rock Hudson for sure but he's got the kindest eyes..."

I nod in thanks, but she's already forgotten me as I pass by for the door to my office. Inside, I see Glushko at my desk with a Belinda he just lit. He looks up from an open folder and motions me to the chair across from him.

I make for the couch instead. As I sit down, Glushko arranges the papers he's reading and says, "Comrade Bee. We have a new management staff hire."

"That's great Valentin," I say, "I knew you were looking over candidates for Chief Designer but hadn't realized you had already made a decision."

"Da. A Chief Designer. He will bring a lot to the table, comrade. He is also highly regarded within the aerospace community. I have read many of his research papers and I am impressed with his accomplishments."

"Wow, Valentin," I say genuinely surprised. "He must be a real gem considering such high praise from you."

Glushko pulls from the Belinda, "Well, my fellow Ukrainian engineer Chelomey declined the offer, so I chose the Brit instead."

"An Englishman you say?" I ask, wracking my memory for the list of candidates.

Glushko nods and says, "Da. I have sent Gnut to escort him here. He should be returning to Florida shortly."

I ask, "Did he take a steamer or did he fly? That flight would be a multi-layover 20-hour ordeal."

Glushko chuckles and says, "He flew into Atlanta last evening from Croydon in London via Idlewild in New York. I received a cable saying he arrived and preferred to drive down rather than spend another minute on a plane."

Glushko hands me the folder and I take a look inside. It contains several sheets of paper outlining a detailed history of education, his employment at an early age at de Haviland, and member of the British Interplanetary Society. The headshot is of youngish man wearing an obviously English cut tweed suit and round spectacles. A gentleman. Otherwise he is nondescript.

A hand written note attached to the back of the folder reads: A fine young man. Signed, Arthur C. Clark. 

The name on the header of the paperwork is A. Valentine Cleaver. Valentine. Hmph. What a coincidence.

The next two days were busy around the office. The research teams were complaining they are getting nowhere with a current project due to limited resources and threatening to stop work. A quick call to Mr. Hoffa was made by Glushko, and by noon the teams were back in their labs. Those that weren't researching research stuff were sweeping, mopping, shining brass, dusting shelves, and organizing stuff that needed organizing.

Hoffa don't play, apparently.

Gnut left a message with Melanie that he and Cleaver were due to arrive at the Cape just before 1500. Glushko and I made it a point to be available to greet Cleaver in my office along with Tang and snacks.

The intercom buzzes and we both stand. Glushko from behind my desk, takes care to brush his jacket free of any stray ash from the half-smoked Belinda. We both look toward the door, expectantly.

Gnut enters looking haggard from the long trip. Is that a slight bruise around his eye? And I can see the knuckles on his hands have recent cuts across them.

"Comrades," Gnut says, "I bring Valentine Cleaver." Gnut bows slightly to Glushko and half turns to the door.

Striding confidently into the room, head on a swivel and bare chest pushing out past an open knee-length white fur coat enters a man that does not look in the least like an English gentleman. He's wearing Gnuts white fur trucker-hat and he pulls it off revealing overly long and slightly dirty brown hair that he pushes out of his eyes with a slight head toss. He then jabs a calloused meat hook of a hand towards Glushko in greeting.

As the man does so, at the same time he tilts his face towards me, a lock of dirty hair falling across his brow and gives me a wink and a tongue click, then turns his attention back to Glushko. I notice he has minor cuts and bruises in various states of healing as well.

Glushko slow-blinks, face neutral. I'm catching flies with an open mouth.

The man says in a very fast cadence, in a halfway unintelligible language, "Me nan calls me Valentine. Me pals call me Val, ye get me?!" 

His hand outstretched still extended, he looks around the office and says in double-time, "Oi, this’s a bleedin’ good spot yeh got ‘ere. We dumped our vans down at the docks. Hope that don’t cause no grief, yeah?"

"What?" Glushko and I say at the same time.

Gnut was ready for this apparently, "Cleaver says he has positioned his travel trailers and entourage near the loading docks and promises not to cause too much of an inconvenience," he says.

Glushko still staring at Cleavers outstretched hand, takes it in his and shakes it firmly. "You have an entourage? And trailers, comrade Cleaver?" He asks as he stretches his neck slightly to compare the picture in the folder to this scabbed up bare-chested ruffian wearing a fur coat in Florida.

Cleaver smiles broadly and says, ""Aye! That's me, ye ken. Hope ye dinnae mind. Had to bring me nan an' me maw wi' me. Oh, an' cousin Liam an' his mob as well.""

"What?"

I turn to Glushko and ask, "I thought you said he was British? I can understand one word in ten."

Glushko releases Cleavers hand, and Cleaver shakes it out in mock pain.  Like a machine gun, his words are rapid-fire, "That’s a bleedin’ vice ya got, mate. Nearly mashed me hand to bits. Look like a proper hard case, feel like ye wanna go for a friendly match?"

He shadow-boxes a bit, his fur coat swinging and gives Glushko a winning smile.

Glushko turns to Gnut and says, "Explain. Now."

To be continued...

Sorry, but I had to get this part out. I don't like posting a wall of text, and there is a bit more so I thought I'd break it up a little and leave you with a cliffhanger of sorts.

Feel free to engage with thoughts, criticisms, and speculation

Edited February 23 by MSteele
Removed Hartsfield name from Atlanta Airport. It was not named that, yet.

[GarrisonChisholm]

LOL  I didn't know Valentine was from a dock-worker family that's wonderful stuff.

[MSteele]

Oh, haha! I highly doubt he resembles anything of the sort, and any living relatives would not be very happy of this portrayal. 

I totally ripped off two Brad Pitt characters for this guy. One from Snatch, and the other from Fight Club.