Nighttime at home. I can almost see the lights on at KSC.
Journal of Jebediah Kerman, Kerbonaut Lost in Space
They tried to save me. Sent Bill up. Why Bill? He's the worst guy for the job. So scared, terrified of everything. Fun to screw with, not who I want directing my rescue effort. I don't think I'm going home. Might as well make the best of this tin can.
Sometimes, I like to turn the rocket out to space and pretend that I'm blasting out away from everything, to some distant planet or star, that my isolation has meaning.
I should turn off the SAS. It's a constant drain of power, just a trickle but it's there. Hell, not like it's going to change much, or like what it changes will matter. I'm at almost 90% charge, but that last nine-tenths is going to go down the drain before I know it. Once that's gone, the air filtration's going down and I have to try and get myself to keep in equilibrium, or else I'll either starve or suffocate. Or maybe I'll try and do both. Not pleasant...anyways, let's keep this thing's lights and communications on as long as possible.
I've been here hours. (Editor's note: Yes, he technically hasn't, but it's better for the narrative this way.)
My limbs are getting stiff. Sometimes I pop out for a couple minutes EVA.
A bit stressful...
Lets me stretch my legs, makes the cockpit seem positively pleasant. If I let go and can't get back, the best scenario is that I fall to Kerbin and burn up.
Looking at Mun, Minmus, it makes me realize just how small we really are. I've been at almost a hundred kilometers away from the surface, away from every living kerbal,
and yet the Mun and Minmus, let alone the other planets, are eternally out of reach. I see those there, staring with contempt at my puny spacecraft, not even a hundreth as far from the embrace of Kerbin's life-giving air as I, reminding me of how small we really are, how little we really can do. Someday, will we reach the Mun, Minmus, Eve and Duna, Laythe, the stars? Maybe. Right now, staring into the black abyss...I doubt it. This, getting a tin can with a poor solitary kerbal trapped inside, may be the best we'll ever manage.
But if we do manage it...I want to be the first. I'm already the first in space, the first in orbit, but can I be more? First to set foot on a natural satellite? First to settle an alien world? One of the first to leave the Sun behind forever, searching for a new home in the stars? What more could I achieve?
Not damn much. I'm stuck in a fucking tin can in the sky.((Writing these is a bit tough, but it's fun. And worth it, I think.))
Jebediah is in space, Bill is in the hospital after injuries sustained in the landing. Future pilots are advised to find some way to land in flat and/or soft areas.
We begin redesigning the Mark Five-Plus to something...not much like it was. In fact, it was enough for people to approve a name change: The SciMax Mark 6. It has a complete redesign of the lower stages, proposed by Engineer Bigdee Kerman (no relationship to the Councilor that he admits to), plus some landing legs that should help in case of rough landing. Bob Kerman, taking the wheel of a space vessel for the first time, is up for the challenge. We hope.
After a worrisome moment of lag and boosters sounding like they were turning on one at a time, the Mark Six takes off, straight as an arrow but less wobbly.
We told you not to look at the instrument panel, Bob...
"KHWH, Kerhovah, Kallah, if you're up there...I know I never believed in any of your forms, but if you're listening--"
"Bob, the regulations manual tells you not to do that. It's there under the lightning safety section."
An unrelated picture of something coming up over the horizon.A hair under six kilometers altitude, we drop the empty solid boosters and engage the upper liquid-fuel engines. Before we get very far through those, the gravity turn is done. It's a bit tricky, but it is. That stage runs out at 37,500 meters or so, halfway to orbital altitudes, leaving one low-power but efficient stage to get us up. Our apoapsis was already over 100 kilometers, though, so not really needed yet. Good to know, though.
For some reason, we're about to go in an orbit with an inclination solidly 90 degrees off from Jeb's, who has an equatorial orbit. We don't know why, but fixing it now isn't in the question--we need to get to orbit before we have time to waste on complex maneuver-noding!
Not that we have much faith that we'll make it...
Click here to see a screenshot of how the pooch is screwed, because the lightshot website isn't responding.
As you would be able to see, orbit is not Bob's strong suit. He's more of a theoretical pilot than an experimental.
"Hey! I heard that!"
...Whoops.Bob tries an angled recovery, a technique that almost worked for Bill. Sadly, perhaps due to the weaker engine, the burn only slows the descent rather than turning it into ascent and potential orbit.
After recovery, it was determined that, in a colossally low-probability accident, fuel mist was somehow being sprayed into Bob's air intake, causing a variety of issues, with most thankfully being curable once he returned. It was deemed an Act of Kod, until someone pointed out that the way engine exhaust was ran would always end up with SOME sprayed into the cockpit. It's remarkable none wound up affecting a pilot until now, really.At the order of Ground Control, Bob angled his rocket down and...well, he was ordered to fire his rockets so he would land in the ocean, but he actually wound up separating his stage.
Seen here silhouetted against the night sky.
Seen here ON FIRE OH KOD!"AAAAA--oh look the Mun--AAAAAAA..."
Ready for landing.[/i]
And so, Bob splashes down, with some valuable scientific data about the upper atmosphere, space, and the effects of inhaling hydrocarbon mist.
The last was found, but not represented. Because reasons.So, with our three veterans recovering from blunt trauma, recovering from rocket fuel inhalation, and the guy we want to rescue, we only have one kerbal able to do the job.
"Archibald Kerman?"
"Hm?"
"Well, we're here to tell you about what you'll be doing."
"What?"
"Well, you've heard about Jeb? About Bill and Bob?"
"...Yes..."
"Well, we need to get a rocket into orbit pronto, and we really need a pilot. You're the only one available with...well, any experience."
"I flew a rocket-powered deathtrap down a runway. I crashed."
"Everyone did. But you survived. And, well, corpses can't fly rockets."
"I suppose not. But...is it really not a possibility to send Bill or Bob? People who flew rockets?"
"Bill's still in a cast and Bob is still trying to recover from hallucinations and delusions. Although the notes he's taking on them will be interesting."
"Bob doesn't sound so bad."
"One of his delusions is about orbital krakens."
"Ah...well, you're not giving me much choice, are you?"
"No."
Archibald sighed, stared at a photo on his nightstand.
"I'm not sure I can survive again."
"You will. No one's died coming down from space."
"...No..."
Archibald sighed, and went to his kitchen.
"Archibald, the rocket's ready. You're needed."
"Two minutes."
Archibald puts a mug of water in a little device, a modified miniature rocket engine. He removes it, tosses some leaf-colored powder into the cup, and stirs, adding some sugar and milk after a moment. He blows on the beverage (?) to cool it, then drinks it in a single gulp.
"I'm ready, guv'na."
You know theres a button that does symmetry for you right? Under the parts menu.
Also JETPACK CONTROLS: "R" to activate jetpack, "WASD" for cardinal directions, shift for thrust upward, ctrl for thrust downward. Is easy.
I've been using it.
And jetpacks are like Diplomacy: The rules are easy to grasp, but if you don't have some practice you'll end up overshooting your ship and before you know it you've lost two home centers before 1902 is out.