NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: About three weeks ago, the issue came up regarding the creation of a space program. Allemande decided to fund one on its own (without the help of PepsiCo [there's some NationStates trivia for you: name the only RL soft drink that exists in NS!]). Since then I've been busy doing a lot of things and haven't had a chance to catch up on the progress of that program - which is important for my emerging national story. Thus, what follows is a quick pass over Allemande's first 20 years (3 RL weeks) in space.

Twenty Years Ago

The hostess led Professor Jerome Montierre to the isolated table near the back of the restaurant. There, Senator Flaubert was waiting with his wife. They rose, exchanged greetings with the astrophysicist, and then returned to their seats. Drinks and appetizers were ordered, and questions about family and mutual acquaintances became the order of the day until well after the main course had arrived. Finally, the Senator got down to business.

"Jerome," he asked, "There's a post that needs to be filled, and the President owes me a favor."

Dr. Montierre leaned closer to the table. "What post is that, Roger?" The Senator had already issued his standard "don't-call-me-Senator" order several minutes earlier.

"Allemande is going to start its own space program," he said, "And is forming a commission to investigate its options. We need someone to head up that commission, and in all likelihood, whoever does that is going to be asked to head up the program."

Jerome Montierre leaned back. "Now you know I have some controversial views on the subject of space exploration, Roger..."

"Iconoclastic views, my aides say," he snorted. "Yes, and that's why I want you there. Too many countries start these things and let time turn them into welfare programs for scientists and their aerospace industry. H_ll," he said, "If I wanted to subsidize the aerospace industry, that's what I'd do. No, we need someone who will keep this thing on target, on focus, and your 'iconclastic' views, in my opinion, are exactly what we need to do that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two Years Later

"Dr. Montierre," said Senator Messier, "How can someone believe we need to explore space and yet be against a comprehensive program of technology development to support such an effort?"

"Because, Senator," replied Professor Montierre, "The technology to explore and colonize space has already been developed."

He elaborated: "The Soviets have been flying into space for over 20 years using a capsule they developed in the 60's - Soyuz - atop a rocket they developed in the 50's - Semyorka, or 'Old Number 7', the R-7 booster they used to launch their first Sputniks into space. They never developed anything newer because they didn't have to, and they have no plans to develop anything newer, either - because they don't have to."

"But," interjected the Senator, "Should we be looking at the Soviet program as a guide to where we want to go? Haven't the Americans done more?"

"Have the Americans done more?" asked the physicist rhetorically. "What have they accomplished? Apollo and the moon landings are impressive, Viking and Voyager are impressive - although the Soviet Venera probes match Viking for scientific value. Still, is this program that we are starting about going to the Moon, to Mars, to Venus, to the Outer Planets?"

"No," replied the Senator, "But there's the shuttle..."

"Again, a magnificent accomplishment - but what does it achieve?" replied Dr. Montierre. "It goes nowhere. NASA asserts that they need a huge space station - Columbus, they're calling it these days, although that changes each year - to justify the shuttle. The Soviets have a space station and have had one for fifteen years, and they didn't need a shuttle to get there."

"Senator Messier," continued the scientist, "Allemande must be realistic in its goals. New technology is great, and its development can be a boon to industry - but this country already subsidizes industrial research. Look at all the money we've poured into automotive and energy technologies. If that's what the government wants - new technology, in this case for the aerospace industry - then it should simply offer subsidies directly to that industry without the pretense of funding some kind of exploratory effort."

"But that's not our goal here, is it? What would you say is our goal here, Senator?" Dr. Montierre asked.

The Senator was taken slightly aback at having become the target of the questioning, but he tried to recover gracefully. "Well, to explore space..."

"Yes," said the physicist. "Just like our goal in subsidizing oceanic research is to explore the sea. Which suggests that ultimately," he continued, "We are interested in the money we can make from this exploration, because that's what's driving our oceanic research: the development of fisheries, ocean-bottom mining, and other sources of hard income."

"But there's nothing like that in space," objected Senator Reston, who had been listening quietly up until now.

"Sure there is," replied Dr. Montierre. "There's commercial satellite launch services, to support all the many established uses of space as a communications and observation platform. Then there's pharmaceutical research in zero gravity, with the presumed benefits in terms of crystal growth and biochemical analysis. And then there are the minerals."

"Minerals?" asked Senator Reston skeptically. "Where? On the Moon? On Mars? Those are already spoken for..."

"No," replied the physicist. "Among the asteroids."

"The asteroids are all spoken for as well," snorted Reston.

"Not all of them," said Montierre with a smile. "And my job is to get us to some of the ones that have not been claimed yet and secure our fair share - and to do so at the lowest cost possible..."

Fifteen Years Ago

Dawn came up quickly, as it always does in the Pacific. As the sun came over the horizon, a group of men launched a weather balloon, which ascended rapidly, transmitting data on temperature, barometric pressure, humidity, and winds aloft. An hour later, they would launch another, and an hour after that, still another. This was a day of intense activity, for these men and everybody else at the launch facility.

Most of the scientists and technicians had been up since well before dawn, inspecting gauges, pumps, fuel lines, electrical panels, and just about everything else as part of the pre-launch checklist. Twice before they had attempted this space shot; they did not want to fail a third time.

Shortly after 8:00 AM, they began to clear the pad. By 8:15AM, the rocket stood alone. It was not very tall, with just one primary rocket stage. From top to bottom it was almost a perfect cylinder, at least up to the conical fairing where the payload sat. Wisps of vapor rose from the vehicle as the count rolled down to zero.

At the moment of launch, the seabirds milling nearby suddenly took to wing, as birds do when a loud noise startles them. From the four kerosene-powered thrusters at the base of the rocket yellow and orange flames billowed forth, accompanied by smoke in various shades of grey. The clamps held the rocket in place for a second as the engines all arrived at the same thrust, and then released the vehicle for its flight into space.

The rocket ascended at moderate speed, rolling slightly as it began to tilt towards the eastern horizon. Behind the rumbling cheers could be heard from the ground crew, urging the rocket onward. With mounting speed it continued to ascend while assuming an ever more horizontal attitude as it sped off into the morning.

In less than five minutes it had crossed two time zones. The booster finally gave out, and a moment later the solid rocket engine that was to propel the payload into space ignited. Down on the ground, there were more cheers; this had been where the previous attempt had gone awry, and so there was but one more hurdle to cross.

A few minutes later, the payload was in orbit. On command from its onboard computer, antennas were extended, power systems ramped up, and a stream of telemetry sent to the tracking ships below. The mission had been a success: Allemande had launched its first artificial satellite into low orbit.

It didn't make the headlines, although it did make the front page (at least in Allemande). Many nations had done this before, and so it did not seem to many a remarkable accomplishment. But it was a first step: a small but important first step on the way into space.

Over the next several years, more satellites of various kinds and sizes would make the journey into space from Allemande's tropical launch facility. Some would fail, but many - hundreds in fact - would succeed as the nation worked to build a major launch industry. Again, this would not make headlines, but it would also be an important step along the road into space.

OOC: It took much longer to calculate the progress of the early program than I expected, but I know have the history of past space exploits up to the present day, so I only need to write it up.

Five Years Ago

For a number of years, the Allemander space program concentrated on satellite launches: on increasing payload mass while decreasing cost per pound to low orbit, as well as increasing the number of different kinds of satellites that could be launched. The core booster was lengthened and the engines improved, both in thrust and efficiency; a kickstage (formally, a "transit stage"), with a single thruster powered by unsymmetrical dimethylhydrazine (UDMH), was added to further improve booster capability, as well as to provide access to geosynchronous transfer orbits. Kerosene-powered strap-on boosters were also developed for heavy lift missions, increasing thrust at liftoff five-fold and mass to orbit three-fold.

Launch facilities were greatly expanded, with overall launch capacity tripled. Tracking and communications facilities were improved, as was data collection, handling, and storage. Everything was oriented towards increasing the ability to loft satellites into orbit at the lowest possible expense, in order to lay the foundation for a viable launch business.

The effort paid off. Only 13 out of Allemande's first 19 launches were successful, a rate of 68.4% - just over two successes out of every three tries. By the end of the third year of operation, though, the statistics were better: 46 out of the first 55 shots - 84.64% - had succeeded. More importantly, from that point onward, 429 out of 441 shots succeeded - an enviable success rate of 97.29%. As these rates went up, insurance premiums declined, further reducing launch costs and making Allemande a first-rate player in the launch services industry.

To some, the whole thrust of the program, aimed as it was towards improving the efficiency of services and making the satellite business viable, seemed almost banal. One prominent newspaper in a socialist country, using the space program as a basis for the criticism of Allemande's entire socio-economic posture, said: "It exemplifies the small-minded thinking of capitalists, to look at the sky and see not stars but money."

Yet there was more going on here than met the eye. Within five years of that first successful satellite launch, preliminary studies began aimed at determining what it would take to build a habitation module - something that could serve equally well as a space station component or part of a deep-space exploratory vessel. Within 18 months these studies in turn gave rise to an effort to design a manned space capsule; the first prototypes of this capsule flew within another year, just seven years after that first satellite launch.

The testing program was slow and methodical. Over a two year period, half a dozen suborbital tests worked out the details of the reentry and recovery systems; over the next two years, half a dozen more put the capsule through its paces in unmanned orbital tests. Additional supporting technologies were developed, such as hard vacuum suits for EVA.

Allemander scientists decided not to follow in the footsteps of their American and Soviet predecessors in flying one- and two-man capsules. A three-man design was deemed the only safe flight configuration, and enough information could be found in the public domain to eliminate the need for a great deal of the research garnered by the flight of these earlier vehicles. The design itself was based on the Soviet Soyuz spacecraft, which was in turn based on General Electric's Apollo D2 design, of three modules: service/propulsion, crew, and orbital/experimental, with the beehive-shaped crew compartment in the middle (the shape of this capsule explains why the G.E. proposal is often called the "beehive" design). As with the kickstage, UDMH was selected as the fuel of choice for the service/propulsion module, due to its ease of storage and handling in orbit, as well as a reasonably good specific impulse (Isp) of 285 seconds (333 in a vacuum). The main booster stages continued to employ kerosene, with its specific impulse of 300 seconds (353 in a vacuum) that was second only to liquid hydrogen (whose Isp is 391 seconds at sea level and 451 seconds in a vacuum).

As these test shots continued, the Allemander press increasingly began to sense that the space program was about more than just putting satellites in space for foreign exchange. Articles were written about the program's future plans: to build and launch a manned space station where additional scientific research - mostly into crystal growth is support of the pharmaceutical industry - could transpire. Critics, of course, still saw the same emphasis on services that could be sold for cash rather than "pure science", although over the years many of Allemande's satellites had turned in quite a bit of good science nonetheless.

The effort to build and test a manned space capsule finally culminated one June morning, 11 years and 8 months after Allemande's first successful satellite launch. Like that earlier October morning, activity at the launch site had begun well before the striking Pacific dawn. This morning, though, it was at a different pad, a few miles from the older one, larger and sturdier than its predecessor, as was the rocket standing atop it.

The booster consisted of a core rocket stage, derived from the earlier vehicle, surrounded by four large strap-on boosters. The core was longer and supported a second stage, slightly wider than the one below it, and atop this rose the fairing containing the capsule. The vehicle itself was slightly more colorful, not only sporting the national tricolor, but also with various lines and bands in red and black setting off its white expanses.

The mission would be short - just fifteen minutes (a "Warholian duration", as one press secretary put it). The manned vehicle would not achieve orbit, but rather come back down thousands of miles to the east, where vessels would pluck it from the sea. The crew would test the manuevering system (both thrusters and the capsule itself, as a lifting body), the heat shield and its supporting systems, the descent parachutes, and the flotation/recovery system.

Because of the more extensive preparations involved in a manned flight, it was almost 9:00AM before the pad was cleared and the countdown rolled down to single minutes. At 9:05 A.M., the rocket engines came to life and, after a second or two as thrust was equalized across all the engines, the clamps fell away and the booster began to rise.

It rose much faster than most satellite launches, since the vehicle's thrust-to-weight ratio was greater. Clearing the gantry, it began its slow roll towards the eastern horizon. Two minutes later, the four auxiliary boosters peeled away like petals from a flower. A minute and a half later, the main stage separated and the second stage took over.

Thrust was cut short on the second rocket stage and the capsule separated, shedding its cowling. Rotating end over end, it assumed the attitude required for a reentry burn, shed its orbital/experimental module, and then simulated the burn that - were this an orbital mission - would begin its trip homeward. The service/propulsion module was then discarded as the capsule rolled back over to assume the position required for safe reentry.

Radio contact was lost during the vehicle fiery plunge into the atmosphere, as expected. Tension mounted among the ground crews as the waited for it to be reestablished. Then, it was: the crew had come through reentry ("That was one rough ride," quipped one) and was on its way towards the landing zone, five time zones east of the launch site ("It'll be the shortest five hours I'll ever spend," the mission commander had joked before the flight).

Cheers went up as the drogue parachute came out, followed by the main chutes. The craft was spotted and helicopters dispatched towards the point where it was expected to splash down. Impact with the water was within nominal tolerances, strobe lights began to flash, and the floatation devices deployed as expected. By the time the recovery team was in the water, the crew had already opened the hatch, dropped a life raft in the water, and dumped colored dye (along with shark repellant) in the water to mark their position (not that there was a need for this, but these measures were being tested along with everything else; high above, a four-engine search plane spotted the strobes and the dye, confirming that these systems were also functional).

Thirty minutes later, the capsule was hoisted aboard one of the many recovery ships, and fifteen minutes later the crew were out on the deck and waving to the press corps. The mission had been a success.

Again, it was a small step, like the earlier satellite launch. Six months later, when Allemande successfully flew its first orbital mission, sending three men into space for a full day, that would also be another small step. But slowly, in the tortoise-and-hare fashion that the program had made its hallmark, the scientists and technicians working to give Allemande a future is space were achieving their goal.

OOC: Again, this story line was generated using Fritz Bronner's game Liftoff!, with Chris Hassler's Mars Variant rules (http://home.adelphia.net/~chassler/Liftoff%20Mars%20Landing.pdf). I've assumed that a single game mission is actually 1-3 launches, depending on the mission (satellite missions, especially routine ones, are 2-3 actual launches each; manned missions are 1-2 launches each). I am in the process of coming up with rocket and capsule names, as well as stats, but that will probably come later. I suppose that I could launch a satellite for someone else if you TG me, but I don't have prices handy (using Liftoff! "megabucks" [MB], I figure that one "megabuck" is probably about £25,000,000 [Allemande uses the "£" symbol for its current {the libre}], which - at the current exchange rate - is about $19,000,000 US; 2-3 simple satellite launches would be 4MB, so that would be ~$30,000,000 US [including the satellite]; a heavy satellite [like a spysat] would be $50,000,000+ US, as would a comsat to geosynchronous orbit; obviously, though, these are "eyeball" prices and need some work).

Anyway, shortly after I get to the present day, I'll provide some figures. I probably won't set up a storefront, though. Probably.

its all very good, but im not sure what you intend to do with it.
will it become an rp, where players peacefully (or not so) 'spacerace' for the best stuff,
or will your nation discover some of the future technologies, aliens etc.

you could do so much more than this than a storefront

its all very good, but im not sure what you intend to do with it.
will it become an rp, where players peacefully (or not so) 'spacerace' for the best stuff,
or will your nation discover some of the future technologies, aliens etc.

you could do so much more than this than a storefrontOOC: I'm laying the basis for a storyline in about a month or so (actually, a couple of related story lines). If you search on my posts, you'll see that I've also developed nuclear explosives (not weapons - see the link below) and discussed (OOC) ocean floor colonization. Allemande is an MT nation, so you don't see the usual FT sci-fi stuff in this thread (in fact, looking at all my puppets, I don't have any FT/sci-fi nations: MT and Magical [even Lovecraftian] but no FT... odd, when you think about it <S> - which means no aliens, no weird technology, none of that stuff [OK, well maybe I could find an enigmatic smooth slab of unknown materials with dimensions 1:4:9 <GGG>]).

More generally, I'm not sure we can "space race" in NS, since - if you check the regions, you'll find that all of the planets have been "claimed", along with the Asteroid Belt. That doesn't mean there's nothing to vie for, of course... There's room on the Moon for another colony, for instance (or on Mars, perhaps).

However, your population of 8 million makes you a bit small for a program. But in a week, you'll be at 23 million or so; in two weeks, almost 50 million. In a month, you'll be over 100 million, and I think you could probably start a space program at that point without any question of whether you can afford it. Of course, if the game gives you the "Myrodor Looks to the Stars!" issue (which is almost certain in the first month or so) you only have to agree to start one, and I'd consider myself on the way (I feel the same way about nukes if you get the issue that asks if you want to start a WMD program).

Which brings us to the reasons for this post and others like it...

This sort of posting is what I call "foundational posting". I couldn't deploy nuclear-powered vessels (including attack subs) until I've told the world that I'm developing them, which I did (in "Allemande to Commence Peaceful Fission Research (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=404518)"). I couldn't build nuclear explosives until I began research on them (in "A Rose By Any Other Name... (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=407084)"), or set them off for any purpose (ocean-bottom excavation, in my case) until I tested one (in "Allemande Detonates 'Non-Military' Nuclear Device (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=408160)"). With this thread, I technically have IRBM's (the "one-stage rocket" in Liftoff!) and will soon have ICBM's (the "two-stage rocket" in Liftoff!), although I've only actually tested and built the civilian versions of these rockets. The IRBM could become an SLBM, although I'd have to announce that decision (actually, I'd have to announce any effort to convert my civilian boosters to military missiles, just as I'd have to announce any effort to turn by "non-military" nuclear explosives into fission bombs or to build a larger fusion bomb).

OTOH, I'm in the same position as Japan or most of the European states that don't have such weapons: I could develop them in a heartbeat if I had to, because I've got things that are almost there in terms of capability. And that is another reason for this kind of post: to establish that I have the capacity to do these things (through RP) and to give the world a chance to protest against it if they don't like what I'm doing.

So hopefully I've given you some ideas about how you could develop "controversial" technologies and add color to your nation in the process.

With regards to this thread and the participation of other countries in it, you can assume these things:
I have a launch business and you (or anybody else) could avail themselves of it.
I have a very large public university system and foreign students participate in it; consequently you could claim that you have aerospace students studying at one or more of my universities, and then in a week (7 NS years) say that they've acquired MS degrees, or PhD's in 10 days (or so). This is a good way to get a head start on the talent needed for your own space effort; these people could also come home and start your own university programs.
You could offer experiments to be performed on one of our missions.
We could negotiate flying one of your people as an astronaut.
And so on.

Opportunities for participation by other countries will grow as the story continues. I don't want to give away any secrets, so ... <S>

for myrodor to look to the stars, we pick a viewport, any viewport. the entire populace is mechanised and lives onboard the HomeStar. needless to say were FT.

Last Year

The launch facility had grown still further, with huge pads having been built well away from the others, and two more of lesser but still considerable size under way nearer to the existing ones. In addition to construction activity, two launches were being prepared. One - a manned launch - was almost ready, and would go in the next week or so. The other, on one of the new oversized pads, was slated to go this morning.

There was some controversy surrounding this last launch.

The rocket in question was the largest that Allemande had ever built. It was almost the size of an American Saturn V; indeed, it had a lift capacity of over 100,000kg to low orbit. It consisted of a massive kerosene-powered core, surrounded by four more kerosene-powered strap-on boosters. The second and third stages were hydrogen-powered, employing Allemande's first cyrogenic rocket engines. On top of it all was an unmanned orbital laboratory - a space station - with a year and a half's worth of supplies.

The rocket had never been launched before; this was a "one-up" mission, which is to say that instead of testing each system incrementally, the way Allemande had tested its first rocket systems, this one would go up all at once. If it didn't work, the scientists and engineers would fix whatever failed and try it again.

Twenty years earlier, "one-up" testing would have been unthinkable, but two decades worth of experience across hundreds of launches combined with proven quality assurance (QA) methods as well as computer simulations (much easier with modern 64-bit processors slaved together into "Grendel" clusters) all worked to make such testing a faster and more economical method than the old incremental approach. It had worked for the Americans, who had used in on their Saturn V and their Space Shuttle, and back then they hadn't possessed anywhere near the kinds of resources that Allemande did at this juncture.

So most of the engineers were happy to proceed in this fashion. Most of them...

A small number of dissidents felt that the "one-up" approach was less a matter of engineering and more a matter of project management. That "faster and more economical" thing had seduced the project managers into taking a less than optimal approach, or so the argument went. There was something to this complaint: the orbital laboratory project had slipped in the schedule due to a late start, which was in turn caused by a shortage of funds. This had already caused the program to wait a year between the end of its docking tests and the beginning of the orbital lab program, which meant that it had been almost a year since Allemande had flown anyone in space - undesirable in a program that had averaged 3-4 manned flights a year for the last four and a half years.

On the other hand, argued some engineers, the booster itself had been finished for over a year (actually, it was more like a year and a half), and every part had been extensively tested, both before the first units were assembled and afterwards. If there was one component in this whole stack that was going to work, it was likely to be the booster - in which case "one-up" testing was the only way to go. Not only that, but extensive unmanned testing of the lab - the most likely point of failure - wasn't going to get them anywhere. "We're only going to get this thing to work reliably by flying in it," argued one project manager during one of many stormy late night meetings. "We can test the H_ll out of this thing one the ground or in space, and we're still not going to know if it's habitable for any length of time until we try it out."

Still, there were many - even among the proponents of "one-up" testing - who were concerned about the lab. It had arrived behind schedule, and work had continued on it up until the last minute. But still, the managers were bent on flying. They didn't want to have the haitus in manned missions grow past a year, and that could easily happen if there were any further delays.

So, at 7:55 AM three and a half weeks before Christmas, they lit up the biggest rocket they'd ever launched and waited to see if it would fly.

It did.

The rocket performed magnificently, as a matter of fact - a tribute to the hard work of the booster team. The slow, thundering beast went straight up rather than rolling just past the gantry, seeking altitude before beginning its attitude change. Two and a half minutes later, the strap-on boosters split away and the booster gained speed. Another two minutes later, the first stage cut out and the second stage cut it, propelling the rocket up at an even greater speed. The third stage - also hydrogen-powered - performed equally well, leaving the UDMH-powered transit stage to move the payload to the proper orbit.

And then things started to go wrong.

The labs power systems did not come up uniformly - especially climate control. Some systems showed erratic power levels, others failed to power at all. For several hours the technicians worked with the design team to see if they could work around the problems. In the end, they could not. Their multi-million libre space station did not work.

The following day, a difficult meeting took place to determine if the manned mission, set to go in a week and occupy the new station, should be scrubbed. In the end, the decision was made to fly. The crew could still dock with the station, enter it, and - at the very least - examine its systems to determine what had failed. "They can try a repair, and it that doesn't work we can determine what if anything can be salvaged. Even if nothing can be saved, we can at least get better sense of what went wrong, and fix it for the next time," said one engineer. The "next time" would be in a year, and nobody liked that fact - but if that was how it needed to be, then so be it.

But the Gods, as they say, had other ideas.

Ten days before Christmas - and almost two weeks after the failed lab deployment - the ground crews were laboring to track down an oxidizer leak that kept the manned vehicle from maintaining adequate tank pressure. They had already pushed back the mission five days, and things were not looking any better than they had earlier in the week. Finally, the decision came down from on high: scrub the shot.

Ultimately, it was decided that the best course of action was to inspect the leaky booster again (this problem had happened before, and the "reset procedure" [as it was called] was well established). The crew would return to the simulators and train for another six months, only this time for repair. Diagnostics would be run to try and narrow down the problem, and additional tools would be provided to assist them in the endeavor. Every effort would be made to save the station, or at least to prevent a recurrence of the problem.

Which would make summer a very busy season. By then, the first of the remaining two pads would be finished, and another launch vehicle - this one designed to loft probes into deep space - would be ready for its first mission. In case the rescue attempt failed, a second station would be ordered. It would not be wasted, as these labs were designed to be docked together to form a larger, more complex structure. What had happened was a setback, but not a terrible one. The drive into space would continue.

OOC: This brings me up to the present day (well, actually not, since I was twenty years late on posting a week and a half ago, which means another ten years has passed - but I'll live with it). Over the next few weeks (which will probably stretch into a month) - I'll cover the next five to ten years in space, during which a number of key missions are planned. Hopefully, this will be very interesting (and not just for me...).

not just for you, eh? ive been trying to think of a way for ages to make multi-temporal conflicts/alliances and this might be an oppurtunity provided my race discovers your new spacefaring ways. you could trade your earths oil for my Myrodorian weapons/technology. us robots allways need oil.

not just for you, eh? ive been trying to think of a way for ages to make multi-temporal conflicts/alliances and this might be an oppurtunity provided my race discovers your new spacefaring ways. you could trade your earths oil for my Myrodorian weapons/technology. us robots allways need oil.OOC: Multi-temporal conflicts/alliances? I've already got that figured out. I'll get back to you on that (although it doesn't belong in this thread, so I'll TG you and show you where it is being developed).

OOC: Reference times (eg, "Two Years Later") are from the previous post (IOW, failure of our first space station) and not from the previous section.
___________

Six Months Later

"It's shot," Chief Engineer Richard Martin told the assembled project managers. "The damage to the electrical system is just too extensive to permit repair."

Maria Beauchamp, an aide to Marc Bertrand, Chairman of the Senate Transportation Committee broke the silence that followed. "So you're saying that the station is a total loss."

"No, not a total loss," replied Martin. "The consumables could still be salvaged."

Beauchamp looked momentarily perplexed. "The consumables? You mean the food, water, and supplies?"

"That, and the breathable gasses. Maybe the propellant and oxidizer, too. If we take the right steps now, we could preserve all these resources until we can get a second station launched later this year," Martin answered

"And then transfer them to the new station?" asked the aide. "That seems like a token win."

"Actually," interjected David Jourdan, one of the project managers, "The financial value of those resources amounts to half the value of the station."

"You're joking," said Maria Beauchamp, with a shocked expression.

"Not at all," replied Vincent LeRoy, another manager. "Those consumables represented over 33% of the initial cost of the station. Since launch expenses are another third, that means that they really are worth about half the value of the station. To put it differently," he finished, "If we were to try to loft an equivalent amount of food, water, sundries, breathable gasses, propellant, and oxidizer, we'd have to spend more than half what we paid for the station in the first place. It's the old notion of 'replacement cost'"

"How much in the way of supplies are we talking about?" asked Beauchamp.

"Fourteen months worth," replied Martin.

"And you think we can save them?" interjected Dr. John Merrill, the project lead, breaking in for the first time.

"Yes," said Martin.

"Do it," ordered Merrill.
___________

Over the next three days, the crew on board the station worked feverishly to shut down failing systems, shunt power to the ones that had to keep running, sometimes even cannibalizing systems to make sure others would keep running. In the words of Maj. Brent Masson, the mission commander, they eventually managed to successfully turn the station into a "flying meat locker." With luck, the supplies it carried would last a good year to eighteen months in space.

Twelve Months Later

Once more the new launch pad was bathed in flame as another of Allemande's heavy-lift boosters roared to life. Climbing quickly, it carried the nation's second space station into the heavens.

Like the year before, the launch was perfect. This time, though, the station powered up properly; the equipment that had been damaged by excessive vibrations a year earlier, causing a series of devastating power fluctuations, had been properly protected this time around and came through the launch with flying colors. Three hours after reaching orbit, the new station gently docked with the old one. The first step in the salvage mission was complete.

In similar fashion, the manned launch that came a week later was also nearly perfect. There were no fuel leaks to force a scrub; instead, a team of three specialists boarded Allemande's first working space station and began the hard work of moving over all the supplies they could strip from the carcass of the first failed attempt.

Twenty Months Later

Four flights had come and gone, none lasting more than six weeks. Allemande's strategy had been to fly several crews in and out of the new space station for short stays of less than two months. Longer stays would eventually be attempted, but only after the intricacies of life in space were well understood - and all bugs in the new station found and fixed.

In that first year, of course, there was another priority: complete the task of stripping the old station of any resource that might prove useful. It had taken several missions to do this; the first crew had managed to get all the "low hanging fruit" - food, water, medicines, and scientific equipment - anything that was easily accessed and carried away (or siphoned off, with the help of small electric pumps). The next crew had managed to bleed off most of the breathable gasses. What remained were the propellant and oxidizer, and these were proving to be a real challenge; two previous crews had tried and failed to recover this last - but immensely valuable - prize.

It was therefore quite a relief when the third attempt - on the fifth station stay - proved to be the charm. UDMH is frightfully poisonous, so the work took place outside the station, in the hard vacuum of space; fortunately, UDMH requires no refrigeration (which is why it was chosen for a storable propellant in both the space station and Allemande's capsules). Because the station's storage tanks were designed to hold much more fuel than was loaded at launch (to support orbital refueling), there was a place to put the salvaged fuel (otherwise, none of it could have been saved). In the end, the job was done and the station given one last look-over before the order was issued to separate it from its healthy twin and de-orbit.

The separation count began and slowly wound down to zero ... and nothing happened.

Repeated attempts produced the same result. Worse, all efforts by the crew to resolve the problem failed.

"You had to figure that after all this it wasn't going to be so easy to get rid of the d_mn_d thing," said an anonymous project manager. "It's not like this piece of junk knows how to behave."

Two Years Later

"I don't care if I have to disassemble the f___ing thing piece-by-piece, that b_st_rd is coming loose!" growled Gus Dumas as he pried around inside access panels near the balky clamping mechanism

It didn't take quite that much, but it did take Dumas and his colleagues much longer than expected to free the jam. When the word reached the Command Center that the stricken station module had separated, the room erupted in cheers.

The cheers were not long lived. The station module moved away and into a transfer orbit, dropping a few dozen kilometers in preparation for a controlled de-orbit.

And then, once more, at the end of a slow count, zero came and nothing happened.

The embarrassment was palpable. Allemande now had a "Skylab situation": a slowly descending space hulk massing over 75,000Kg that would eventually plunge into the atmosphere - but at a time and place entirely of its own choosing. About all that the government and the directors of the space program could hope is that is would come down over open water.

"The way this is going," said Sen. Bertrand, "It'll probably land on somebody's Presidential Palace. We're getting all our bad luck in a single dose on this mission. I'll be just as glad when it's over - or not, depending on where and how it comes down..."

Draft Version: Needs to be proofed and modified
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OOC: I've had some time to develop specifications for several Allemander space vehicles. This will allow me to avoid ambiguous phrases like "the rocket" and "the capsule". A definite plus... ;)

Minerva<Stats Pending>This was Allemande's first launch vehicle. It has since been retired.

Minerva II<Stats Pending>Five years after the launch of Allemande's first orbital satellite, General Aeronautics redesigned the Minerva rocket, dubbing the new (and improved) vehicle Minerva II. It is the present-day workhorse of the Allemander space program.

Minerva-Aeolus II<Stats Pending>Based on America's highly successful Centaur (http://www.astronautix.com/stages/cenaurv2.htm) kickstage, Aeolus is Allemande's smallest cryogenic rocket stage. It employs liquid hydrogen (LH2) oxidized by liquid oxygen (LOX). When added to any of the many booster configurations that support it, Aeolus provides the rocket stack in question access to high-energy (eg, polar and geosynchronous) orbits; it is also used to boost interplanetary probes along trajectories to other worlds. Although it was initially designed to fly atop a Minerva II, the resulting payload is very small. Consequently the stage is almost never used on anything smaller than a Minerva III

Minerva III<Stats Pending>Displayed here as a Nautilus-Minerva III, this is the workhorse of the Allemander manned space program. It can comfortably launch a three-man Nautilus capsule into a wide range of low orbits for a variety of missions, and do so at an affordable price.

Minerva-Aeolus III<Stats Pending>A medium-lift launch vehicle used primarily to place satellites into geosynchronous and polar orbit, although if the Allemander military had spy satellites, this would be a potential launch vehicle for that application as well. The cost per kilo to low orbit is among the most attractive of contemporary launch vehicles.

Minerva-Aeolus IV (New)<Stats Pending>This is a Minerva III with high-energy solids in place of the liquid-fueled strap-on boosters. It is being developed as a low(er) cost launch vehicle for the delivery of large quantities of supplies to Allemande's Vesta II space station. Prior to its development, mission planners had expected to have to send a resupply vehicle into orbit every three months to support station crews. With Minerva IV, the resupply interval increases to seven months and the cost per pound is lower. The high-energy solids are a fairly new technology, of course, and so a greater failure rate is anticipated.

Mars (Under Development)<Stats Pending>Mars is a medium-lift booster intended to provide greater access to high-energy orbits and interplanetary space. Its lift capacity to low orbit is only slightly higher than that of the Minerva III, but coupled with the Aeolus kickstage (see below), it is capable of launching much larger payloads to high-energy orbits. It is also meant to provide Allemande ready access to interplanetary space (while various forms of the Minerva-Aeolus combination have been used to launch first-generation interplanetary probes, none of these payloads has been of sufficient size to do much serious scientific study).

Mars-Nemesis (???)<Data Unknown>Mars-Nemesis is a rumored military version of the Mars launch vehicle. Little is known of what "Nemesis" might be, but most speculation centers on a modified or redesigned version of the Aeolus kickstage designed for greater flexibility in satellite deployment, or else as a MIRV bus.

OOC: With the development of Minerva, Allemande technically possesses a functional IRBM (although Minerva was not designed for silo launch, and so its military value is questionable). Even more importantly, the Mars medium-lift launch vehicle is technically an ICBM - and here, the potential is less abstract. Unlike Minerva, Mars was in fact designed to be silo-launchable. It also uses storable propellants (UDMH or similar hydrazine derivatives) in all its rocket stages (versus the use of kerosene in Minerva's first stage). Note that this means that "Nemesis", if it exists (or is being planned) can't be cryogenic (at least if it's meant to be a MIRV bus), but would instead have to utilize either solids or a hydrazine-based propulsion system.

All of this is in keeping with Allemande's strategy of being capable of fielding a nuclear deterrent if the strategic environment should change in such a way as to demand it, without actually (or openly) joining the "nuclear club".

Mars-Aeolus (Under Development)<Stats Pending>One of the design specifications for Mars was compatibility with the Aeolus kickstage. It is in conjunction with this upper stage that the value of Mars in comparison with Minerva becomes apparent: compared to Minerva-Aeolus III, Mars-Aeolus has a 25% greater lift capacity to GTO (geosynchronous transfer orbit). Its cost is also greater - about 33% higher - which means that this vehicle will likely be reserved for missions that really need the added capability.

Mars-Aeolus II (Planned)<Stats Pending>Mars-Aeolus II is simply an Mars-Aeolus with liquid-fuel strap-ons. Launch capacity is quite impressive, but cost is also quite high. Given that there are less expensive heavy-lift alternatives available to Allemande, the use of this vehicle will likely be restricted to long-range scientific missions (to the Sun or the Outer Planets, for example).

Mars-Aeolus III (Planned)<Stats Pending>Mars-Aeolus III is similar to an Mars-Aeolus II except for the use of high-energy solid rocket boosters in place of liquid-fueled strap-ons. This gives it a lift capacity similar to that of the Hercules booster (see below), although the reliability is not as good. It is unlikely that this vehicle will find much use.

Hercules<Stats Pending>First developed as a means of orbiting the Vesta space stations, Hercules represents the low end of Allemande's heavy-lift launch capacity. It was intended to match the Russian Energia (http://www.astronautix.com/lvs/energia.htm) series in capability, which it does handily. Although the capacity to launch "just" a Hercules is - and will remain - within Allemande's reach, it is unlikely that this particular configuration will ever actually be used.

Hercules differs from smaller launch vehicles (but not its larger cousin, Jupiter in its use of a cryogenic third stage, employing liquid hydrogen (LH2) with liquid oxygen (LOX) as an oxidizer.

Hercules II<Stats Pending>This is the actual launch vehicle used to place the Vesta payloads in orbit. With a payload of over 95,000kg to low orbit, it is a very capable and affordable launcher. But with larger rockets on tap (see below), its likely role will be in support of the planned Pegasus reusable orbiter.

Hercules III (Planned)<Stats Pending>Hercules III is simply a Hercules II with high-energy solids in place of its liquid-fuel strap-ons. This gives it a tremendous lift capacity, but the reduced reliability due to the cantankerous nature of solids makes the trade-off suspect. In all likelihood, this configuration will fly only very rarely.

Jupiter (Under Development)<Stats Pending>This is the top of the line as far as lift capacity is concerned, a vehicle that was designed from the start to be the equal of America's Saturn V booster. Again, since it was designed to support strap-ons, this "bare" configuration will almost certainly never fly.

Like Hercules, Jupiter employs cryogenic rocket technology (LOX/LH2) in its third stage engines.

Jupiter II (Under Development)<Stats Pending>The intended future workhorse of Allemande's space station and space construction efforts. It will exceed the Saturn V in lift capacity (at over 135,000kgs to low orbit), and should compete with the Minerva with respect to payload cost per kilo to low orbit.

Jupiter III (Planned)<Stats Pending>Jupiter III uses high-energy solids in place of liquid-fuel strap-ons to achieve an enviable payload capacity to low orbit of over 160,000kgs. This should allow large prefabricated space vehicle modules to be lofted into orbit, to be assembled at the Vesta II space station and its successors.

Mercury (Concept)<Stats Pending>Allemande is said to be working on an ion engine for deep-space exploration, possibly in conjunction with a large, prefabricated exploratory vehicle and possibly for use in staging a "Grand Tour" of the Outer Planets. Little has been decided with respect to this project other than a name.

Vulcan (???)<Data Unknown>There is rumored to be a "Project Vulcan", aimed at developing a rocket engine designed for use either: To replace the third stage in a Hercules or Jupiter booster (following Allemander nomenclature, this would be either a Hercules-Vulcan or Jupiter-Vulcan core and would presumably employ liquid-fuel strap-ons (in the "II" variant) or high-energy solids (in the "III" variant) for added payload capacity, or As a deep-space thruster for high-energy planetary escape by some future DSV (deep-space vehicle).
Speculation abounds regarding this project, which is classified (quite rare in Allemande's space effort). Some suspect that Vulcan is a nuclear thermal rocket engine (like America's 60's-vintage NERVA (http://www.astronautix.com/engines/nerva.htm) with an Isp of 850+, others a "hot-cold" high-energy chemical engine (http://www.astronautix.com/props/lf2lli.htm) burning an exotic mixture of a liquid lithium (LLi) propellant (held at 179° C) oxidized by a 70%/30% mixture of liquid fluorine (LF2) and liquid hydrogen (LH2), with the former held below -220° C and the latter held below -255° C (the resulting engine is rumored to have an Isp of +550[!]).

Medusa (???)<Data Unknown>Nothing is known about "Project Medusa" other than the name, which - like Nemesis and Vulcan, is a line item on the Department of Transportation budget, under "space research".

Nautilus<Stats Pending>Nautilus is Allemande's three-man space capsule, based on the Russian Soyuz TM (http://www.astronautix.com/craft/soyuztm.htm) design, which in turn was based on General Electric's innovative Apollo D-2 (http://www.astronautix.com/craft/apollod2.htm) design. Light enough to only require a Minerva III, this vehicle provides fairly economical manned access to low orbit.

There are two versions of this capsule: Block "A" - The initial design, with enough resources to support a crew of three for up to 15 days in orbit. Block "B" (Under Development) - A second generation design with a larger service module, capable of supporting a crew of three for up to two months (although the crew would quietly go mad from living in such cramped quarters long before the supplies gave out). In is envisioned that this version would be able to function as a "repair" vehicle that could be used to dock with and fix a space station whose environmental systems were having difficulty. It might also be used on a lunar mission, with some of the provisions transferred to the lunar lander, but no such mission is currently planned.The base rocket used to launch the Nautilus into orbit is the Minerva III; it is in fact the only vehicle rated to do so. The resulting stack is usually referred to (per Allemander nomenclature) as a Nautilus-Minerva III.

Pegasus (Under development)<Stats Pending>Pegasus is Allemande's planned space shuttle. Unlike NASA, who viewed their Space Transportation System (http://www.astronautix.com/lvs/shuttle.htm) as a kind of "space truck", Allemande is simply looking for a way to fly larger groups of people into space than can be handled by the three-man Nautilus capsule. Consequently, the Allemander design more closely resembles the Russian Buran (http://www.astronautix.com/project/buran.htm) winged spaceplane than its American forerunner.

The launch vehicle used to loft Pegasus into orbit is the Hercules II, with an added Aeolus kickstage. Curiously, Allemanders never refer to a "Hercules-Aeolus" or "Jupiter-Aeolus" by those names; it seems that the use of the Aeolus cryogenic kickstage is simply assumed and therefore ignored (unlike smaller rocket stacks where it might or might not be present, and is thus explicitly denoted). Thus, the proper name for a loaded Pegasus stack is "Pegasus-hercules II"

Pegasus II (Planned)<Stats Pending>Pegasus II is simply shorthand for a Pegasus-Hercules III - IOW, a Pegasus shuttle lofted into space by a Hercules booster with high-energy solids. Due to the lower reliability of such solids, this is a controversial configuration and thus may never fly.

Vesta<Stats Pending>Vesta is the code name for Allemande's manned space station, which, like Skylab (http://www.astronautix.com/craft/skylab.htm), Salyut (http://www.astronautix.com/craft/salyut1.htm), and Mir (http://www.astronautix.com/craft/mir.htm) (but unlike the International Space Station (http://www.astronautix.com/craft/intation.htm), is designed to be lofted into space by disposable rockets, presumably in place (wholly or in part) of an upper stage. One key difference between Vesta and the two older stations mentioned above (Skylab and Salyut) - and, consequently, a great similarity with Mir (http://www.astronautix.com/craft/mirmplex.htm) is that Vesta is meant to be modular in the sense that additional launches can add modules to the "complex", so that the assembled station can hold many more people than could possibly be supported by a single-module station.

Arachne (???)<Data Unknown>Arachne is believed to be a single-stage reusable low-gravity lander. It is supposedly based on America's Apollo LM (http://www.astronautix.com/craft/apollolm.htm) and Russia's LEK (http://www.astronautix.com/craft/lek.htm). The intended mission for this hardware is unknown.

Argo (Planned)<Data Unknown>Argo is rumored to be the name for Allemande's planned interplanetary exploration vehicle, to be built and maintained entirely in orbit. It will be Allemande's first true space ship. At the moment, nothing more is known of it.

OOC: I haven't decided for sure, but I'm leaning towards French being Allemande's official language (Allemande's school system requires fluency in multiple languages, however). The names of my rockets and space vehicles were therefore chosen to sound good in French. Here they are...Boosters

Minerva=Minerve
Mars=Mars
Hercules=Hercule
Jupiter=Jupiter

Rocket Stages/Technologies

Aeolus=Eole
Nemesis=Némésis
Mercury=Mercure
Vulcan=Vulcain
Medusa=Méduse

Capsules/Orbiters/Vehicles

Nautilus=Nautile
Pegasus=Pégase
Argo=Argo
Arachne=Arachne

Space Stations

Vesta=Vesta