Let's play: Buzz Aldrin's Race Into Space

[Scottish Ninja]

Okay. Are Murcans going to submit a plan, or is Dr. Engineer taking the money and running for the hills if the landing fails?

Yes.

But it may have to be later tonight.

[Scottish Ninja]

Dr. Engineer stepped into his office, trying to dab away the remnants of the sloppiest sandwich he’d ever eaten from the corner of his mouth, when he noticed something strange.

Two things strange. One, Mira still wasn’t back. Two, Atwater was sitting at his desk. Why was Atwater sitting at Engineer’s desk? As he stood there, Atwater looked up, reached to his left, and turned off the radio.

Engineer marched into his inner office, puffed himself up as much as he could manage, and said, “This had better be good, Atwater; I hope you’re about to tell me that Grummang’s fully certified Lucian...”

“No, Boss, it’s just the opposite. I’ve got bad news.”

“Do you have good news too?”

“Bad news comes first. Go and lock the door and pull down the blind. We don’t want anyone else hearing this, after all.”

When the Underdirector heard the latch click, he heard another click behind him - he spun around, to find his own gun pointed at him, in Atwater’s hand.

Balls. With his free hand, Atwater got out Engineer’s bottle of scotch - the one he’d been saving. - and a glass. “Why don’t you have a drink, boss, and sit down. This is very bad news.”

Dr. Engineer sipped at the whisky, still staring at the the gun. “I’m beginning to suspect as much...”

“Well, I don’t have a lot of time to explain all the ins and outs of the whole situation, though I imagine you’ll have figured at least some of it out; so I’ll cut to the point: you’re going to cancel the landing.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Oh, I was hoping you’d say that... in that case, it’ll be a tragic story - MASA Underdirector, Dr. U.M. Engineer, found dead in his office of an apparent suicide - speculatively driven by alcohol-fueled stress over the decision to launch the moon mission.”

“That doesn’t sound like something I’d want to have happen. But what am I supposed to say, if I do scrub?”

“Oh, that’s not hard - all you have to do is give voice to all the nagging thoughts you have in the back of your head. Say that you can’t certify the LM without a proper flight test program. Say that you still have concerns over the complexity of the mission. Say that you can’t risk your astronauts’ lives in the hopes of maybe beating the Zenobians. Say any number of things; it won’t be hard to come up with a few more things that are at least half true.”

“And then what happens?”

“Then the moon mission gets pushed back again, until Congress gets fed up and decides that it’s not worth it. You’ll stay where you are, though, or move up - as long as you keep your end of the deal, you can stay in this office and play with your rockets. I’ve got enough influence on the Hill to see to that. I’ll get the blame loaded on Von Braun’s shoulders instead. Otherwise - I can get an investigation going into your ‘mismanagement of MASA’ and your ‘ties to commienism’. And that won’t end well for you either.”

“And what about the Zenobians? Murca won’t let it go if they beat us to the Moon - they’ll demand that we beat them to Mars. What then?”

“Don’t you worry about the Zenobians. You think I’m working alone? They’ll never make it to the Moon either, not if we have anything to say about it.”

Engineer grimaced, and set down the glass. “Looks like you’ve covered all the angles, Lee. So what do I have to do now?”

“All you have to do is sign this, boss. Then I leave. That’s it.” Atwater produced a single sheet of paper and laid it in front of Engineer.

“Fine, Atwater, you win - where’s my pen?”

Engineer stood up and reached to his right - Atwater’s eyes followed him, saw the hilt of the sword just as Engineer’s hand wrapped around it, and grew wide - he jerked the trigger back - the hammer snapped down - and Atwater looked at the silent gun in confusion, just as the Underdirector swung the sword around, still in its scabbard, in an arc that ended in Atwater’s temple.

Trentson and Mira burst in through the door at that moment, Trentson with that... perhaps less stupid rifle of his, to find the Underdirector standing over Atwater, lying on the floor, with the point of his - definitely his sword now - at his aide’s throat; he turned to see them, and said, “Trentson, arrest this bastard.” Trentson stood Atwater up and cuffed him; Engineer slid the sword back into its scabbard and picked up the revolver.

He spun the chamber out and shook out four empty brass cases, and muttered, “You know, I kept meaning to reload this thing... put it off again and again for three years. Bit of a gamble that you hadn’t checked it and loaded it yourself... had to take it though. No way I’m giving up now...”

---

Dr. Engineer's MASA Plan, Spring 1975

Budget: 134 MB

R&D:

5x teams on Eagle: 10 MB

Remaining budget: 124 MB

Hardware Purchase:

1x Saturn V: 18 MB
1x Mighty Strap-ons: 4 MB
1x Kicker-B HSM: 6 MB
1x Docking Module: 3 MB
2x Atlas: 6 MB
2x Explorer: 2 MB

Remaining Budget: 85 MB

Astronaut Management:

None at this time.

Mission Scheduling:

PAD A: Hermes Historical Lunar Landing, ENGLE/COLLINS/BRAND Prime, OVERMEYER/FULLERTON/EVANS Backup
PAD B: None
PAD C: None

Mission Go/No-Go Status:

PAD A: LUNAR LANDING IS MOTHERFUCKING GO. MURCA FUCK YEAH!
PAD B: Orbital Satellite is GO.
PAD C: Orbital Satellite is GO.

[Eternal_Freedom]

Oh bloody hell.

[Scottish Ninja]

I am... heartened by the Director's apparent confidence. Well, if I'm going to stake my career on something, it might as well be something big...

[Eternal_Freedom]

It was not a comment on your highly skilled cunning planning, more a realisation of the enormity of the gamble.

But that's cool, I always like to jump in with both feet first. Do or die, as they say.

[OmegaChief]

Well, this is it then, the most important turn in the game up to this point.

Whatever happens, good luck to all, and it's been an honour serving with you.

[HMS Sophia]

This has been awesome...

[FaxModem1]

Zenobia



Fax Modem was cold. He had been Secret Squirrel and had sabotaged the Zenobian shuttle, but because of tighter security measures, specifically the concept of having sober guards, his access to the base had become more limited. But as the years had passed, the Zenobians had apparently not needed his 'help', it was their own failures. He wasn't allowed to go home until this space race was over. He had to do whatever he could to ensure that the Commenoid menace never painted the moon red.

He had set up camp out of visual range of the launching facility, making sure to stay out of sight, gather nuts and berries for the long winter. Well, He waited for them to make a lunar launch. For when he could leave his camp and spring into action.


He waited still.

[Simon_Jester]

Zenobia

Fax Modem was cold. He had been Secret Squirrel and had sabotaged the Zenobian shuttle, but because of tighter security measures, specifically the concept of having sober guards, his access to the base had become more limited.

The sobriety of our guards has been less of an obstacle to you than the indestructibility of our shuttles...

Comrade Omeganski, perhaps it is time to rout out Secret Squirrel's treacherous infiltrator ally, Morocco* Mole. No one can do it like you.



*I don't know how to modify that name, but I'm sure it can be done...

[PeZook]

At Dr. Engineer's request.

[OmegaChief]

Spoiler

Okay, here goes my attempt at capturing that darn Mole at last!

Random inspections of almost anything related to any number of the personnel at Baikonurek Aerodrome were not uncommon, nor was the taken for granted that the NKDVDROM went through peoples things while they weren’t around, it was just an accepted fact of life at a Zenobian facility this important.

Combined with the still new (And quite distressing for everyone involved) deployment of guards who were not-drunk (The Bureau was still deciding on what new word to add to the Zenobian language to describe this unusual and terrifying state) guards made it very very hard for anyone to sneak around.

Well, for anyone aside from the man Commissar Omeganski had decided must be his nemesis, this Murican agent of unparalleled intelligence who had helped someone sneak into the base, this mastermind who was able to constantly evade his best efforts to capture all while seemingly random accidents had distracted them, such as men falling down into strange tunnels beneath the base, the sounds of someone stumbling blindly into a wall causing two twitchy non-drunk guards to shoot each other and many other various hilarious accidental blunders.

Today though, one half of the Murican’s best spy team’s luck ran out, as during one of the aforementioned random prowls of the base, a short squat engineer blundered right into the commissar, sending his pair of thick round glasses clattering to the floor. By instinct the engineer reached down to pick them up, the Commissar paying no heed to the whole incident until something brushed against his foot as he attempted to stomp off. The something appeared to be red and vaguely cylindrical in shape with a large tassel sprouting from the top.

It was a Fez, a very uncommienist piece of headwear, which the squat engineer had finally realized was missing from his head with a small gulp as the Commissar looked down at him and smiled. The Commissar smiling was a rare and terrifying sight, one very few people had witnessed, well witnessed and survived anyway.

“Comrade Murucko Mole I believe? We meet at last”

The only reply was a small squeak as more NKDVDROM agents melted out of the omnipresent shadows that always happen to be around for NKDVDROM agents to menacingly step out of in situations like this and they took began to smile, oh yes it had been far too long since there had been a genuine Murican agent to interrogate…

[Nuts!]

A quick question for the mighty Murcan men: with a surplus of 85 MB, why didn't they schedule a LM test or lunar flyby before the historical mission? The LM test, in particular, would probably make a real difference for the many lunar module checks.

[Scottish Ninja]

The actual reason is to push up the launch schedule so that the Zenobians couldn't move to beat the launch this season, pretty much even if they wanted to. In retrospect we probably could have had a full LM flight test series and the full moonshot this season, but on the other hand I might not have been able to count on the budget for that. One lunar orbital test probably would have made sense though.

[Simon_Jester]

Well, you achieved your aim, I can't beat the launch, but on the other hand I'm also in a relatively good position to gamble on your failing disastrously, especially with all those LM stages- or possibly the photo recon stage.

[PeZook]

"In space, when you look out the spacecraft's optics that shield your eyes from the Earth's glare, you can see this brilliant starfield, unlike any other. Billions of stars shine upon you, and let me tell you Emmet, once you've seen it...it changes you forever."

"Thank you for this magnificent tale. That was Story Musgrave, mission commander for Hermes XVI. Now, Ted, you will have a role unlike any other human being in history..."

"Well, Emmet, I will be keeping busy, with many exciting experiments to perform...and I'm packing a few good books, just in case."

Launch Complex 39A
Teddy Space Center
THE CAPE, Murca
July 16 1975

"Over a million people have gathered to watch this historic flight. Three brave and manly Murcan astronauts have boarded their spacecraft, and within the hour they will embark on a historic journey..."

"And the world will see, that Creation is so much greater than us..."

"If all goes according to plan, four days from now, Story Musgrave will be the first person to step on the surface of the Moon..."

"...many problems were found and removed at the last minute, but MASA administration remains confident the lander will perform..."

"On the biggest rocket ever flown..."

"Our thoughts and prayers go with the crews of Hermes XVI"

Mission Control
13:31:45 UTC

The speakers blared transmissions from THE CAPE. To say the mission controllers were nervous would be a criminal understatement of the mood: it looked as if the various specialists would explode if somebody lit a match within half a mile.

"T minus 15 seconds. We are go for launch."

Common Carter Connoway slowly put out his cigarette, trying to stop his hand from shaking. Twenty years. He spent twenty years working for the space program and anticipating this moment.

"Ten!"

The engineers jittered in their seats, as if somebody fired off a gun inside the room.

"Nine! Ignition sequence start!"

"Eight!"

"Seven!"

"Six! S-IC ignition!"

"Five!"

"Four!"

Someone fainted. Connoway frowned and had the girly weakling removed from the room - thankfully, it wasn't one of the flight engineers, but a reporter.

"Three...two...one..."



"Liftoff! At 13:32 on July 16th 1975, Hermes XVI lifts off from THE CAPE! Its destination...the Moon!"

The flight engineers rushed to their tasks as if they were a coiled spring that was only now set loose. Connoway listened with pride as they flawlessly executed the entire ascent sequence, guiding the massive, throbbing shaft of the Saturn V into the soft and delicate bosom of the heavens themselves.

"S-II engine start command...executed. Sixteen, we copy S-IC separation."

"S-II aft afterstage jettison complete, thrust is good. BPC to manual."

"Copy that, BPC to manual. Tower jet."

"We are go for orbit, flight. All systems nominal."



It only took thirteen minutes for the massive rocket to shed 96% of its mass. It launched weighing, like a proper manly Murcan product, an absolutely ginormous 4000 tons. In its violation of space, it used up or otherwise shed nearly all of this mass, depositing a still-massive 150 ton payload into orbit. It was only thanks to a mighty pair of strap-on boosters that it could accomplish this feat, since even the sheer ginormity of the Saturn V would've otherwise been unable to handle the Hermes shuttle and all its additional equipment.

"We are in orbit. Trans-lunar injection in 2 hours 31 minutes."

"This is it, people.", Connoway stood up and adressed his crew, "The most important mission ever. You must do your best, more than your best, or the Zenobians beat us to the Moon and within ten years we will all live under the iron boot of commienism, getting our faces stomped...forever. No pressure, guys!"

Odyssey
16:55:00 UTC

"Come on, rookie, dock this thing!"

"Shut the hell up, Ted. If anyone's the rookie here, it's you."

"I'm just helping you with some reverse psychology, man."

"By insulting me? How about you just..."

"Guys! I know we have a quota of manly banter to fulfill, but please, we're a hundred feet from an irrepleaceable piece of hardware we will need to LAND ON THE FREAKIN' MOON!"

"All right. Sorry, boss."

The Odyssey has separated from the final Saturn stage less than ten minutes ago, and flipped head over heels to face the second spacecraft of the mission - the lunar module, inexplicably named Lucien.

Now, docking has been well-practiced in the years leading up to the mission, and everyone was pretty confident the docking mechanism on the Hermes shuttles would perform up to spec. However, the lander has never before been penetrated by the shuttle's probe, nor tightly grasped for retractation and latching, and thus everyone involved was highly concerned for the viability of this virginal piece of hardware.

The gap between both spacecraft grew tighter and tighter, and the Odyssey's crew's breathing grew faster and faster. The pinging of the docking radar and hum of electronics also seemed to grow more intense.

"Ten feet. Nine...eight...no light...seven...okay, I got a light...easy now..."

The probe gently slid into the eager and welcoming receptlace. It then retracted forcefully, with three dull thuds and clicking of latches. It was the greatest feeling in the world.

"Man. Whew.", Roger Chaffee, CMP, would have slapped his own butt, but the tight quarters of the Hermer cockpit made that impossible.

"That was actually pretty good."

Everyone agreed. The ship was now complete, and thus...they were really and truly on their way.

---

"The exciting part for me, Emmet is going to be the landing. This will be the time when we will have achieved the national goal of putting men on the moon, and it's the one part of the flight that has never been done before."

"There have been expressions of concern about the lunar lander. Aren't you anxious about flying an untested vehicle?"

"Well..."

---

Lunar Module Lucien
Lunar orbit
July 20 12:52:12 UTC

The control panel lit up and then immediately went dead. Story Musgrave couldn't help but curse, and of course as Murphy would have it, the communications did not went down, AND the microphone was set to voice-activated, so everybody heard it.

"Sixteen, are you having a problem?"

Ted Freeman sheepishly flipped a switch, turning off the voice-activated feature, "Sorry, man."

It took a second for the mission commander to calm himself down. Only then did he press the transmit button.

"We are having trouble going through the final descent preparation. Initial powerup went fine, as you know, but now the main circuit breaker keeps kicking in."

"Uh, copy that Sixteen, standby."

"That was very useful.", Freeman murmured to himself and flipped through the checklist, "Listen, why don't we skip ahead to..."

The radio interrupted him, "Sixteen, we have a procedure for you that we think might help."

"Go ahead"

"Okay, first we want you to configure the right-hand switches to the following..."

Neither astronaut inside Lucien actually said anything, but the apprehension was palpable. An unexpected problem right before the final descent was not something that made them optimistic.

Fortunately, it turned out the question was minor, and related to a slight quirk in the way the LM's systems operated. Mission Control decided to proceed, and on 17:43 all the systems were checked out, the docking hatch was locked out, and the LM crew were in their suits, at their stations and ready for descent.

"Are you gentlemen ready?", Roger Chaffee asked them from the Odyssey.

"As ready as we'll ever be."

"Godspeed, then."

In the shuttle's cockpit, the lone pilot flipped a plastic cover and pressed the docking release button. It took an additional hour or so before both spacecraft separated enough, which was spent on outside observations of the lander and detailed photography. That was the final point where an abort would be simple. Final checks were made. Final green-lights given.

Nobody was yelling FUCK YEAH.

It was 19:08 and fourteen seconds on July 20th, 1975. The checklist gave this time as "LM descent orbit insertion ignition".

They were going down.

[Eternal_Freedom]

FUCK YEAH.

[FaxModem1]

Okay, they made it to the moon. Let's see if they can land. Geez, the next few hours are going to be tense.

[LaCroix]

Now that's what should be properly called an orbit-hanger...

I believe by now we all are nervous enough, so carry on! I want to see if this ends right here! (Or if we set up for WW3 in the next turn, when the Zenobian heroes plant their flag on the opposite side of the moon.)

[PeZook]

Mission Control
Murca

20:04:30 July 20 1975

"Looks good. Just about on time. Thrust 10 percent."

"Lights on...what's that? *garbled*"

"Odyssey, we've lost Lucien."

"Copy that...uh, want them to go aft omni?"

"Roger. Tell them to go aft omni."

"Okay Flight, we're reading them again."

The HEUGE main screen was dead, replaced with a display showing Odyssey's trajectory to the Moon. The controllers could only go by remote radio transmissions and telemetry data they received, and that was dropping ocasionally as the lunar module was moving on its trajectory.

"Okay, let's make sure the face-up goes well, guys!"

"That didn't come off all that well, flight."

"Shut the hell up, Duke."

"Copy that", Charles Duke snickered at the CAPCOM station.A passing engineers smacked him on the head.

Freeman's voice came on the radio just then, "Houston, I'm getting fluctuation in our AC voltage now."

"Roger", Duke immediately concentrated back on his task.

"Could be our meter maybe, huh?"

"Standby...Looking good to us. You're still looking good at 3...Coming up 3 minutes."

"Copy that Houston...okay, we went by the three-minute point early. We're long."

"What was that, Story? Rate of descent looking real good. Altitude's right about on..."

"Our position checks down range show us to be a little long."

"Okay, copy that Lucien. Standby..."

Having heard that, controllers rushed to one of the consoles, where the GUIDO engineers was furiously stroking his sliderule, trying to figure out where the LM was going to end up. They squinted really hard at the rather less-than-ideal images of the landing site.

Connoway glared at them from his raised station. Seconds ticked by, precious seconds remaining until the end of the horizontal part of the descent burn.

"I need confirmation on the landing site, people! I need it NOW!"

"We're good, flight. We're good!"



"Tell them, CAPCOM."

"Okay Lucien, you're about three miles long, but still go."

"Roger, about 3 miles long. Rolling over. (Pause) Okay, now watch that signal strength..."

"Flight...", it was GUIDO again, "They're pretty slow on that roll..."

"Lucien, we are reading you slow on the roll, over."

"Yes, copy...This is much harder to do than it was...oh, yeah. Sorry, we left the rate switch at 5 degrees per second."

"We're good, flight. Roll maneuver completed, they should be getting radar lock on the ground...right about now."

"Flight!", the DPS engineer jolted suddenly, "I have a program alarm!"

Lunar Module Lucien
Powered Lunar Descent

20:10:22 July 20 1975

"Program alarm", Musgrave said with only the slightest hint of urgency, after the onboard systems began buzzing and flashing wildly.

Freeman glanced at the computer's display and checked the exact error, "It's a 1202"

"Houston, give us a reading on the 1202 Program Alarm"

There was no immediate response. The two pilots glanced at each other nervously. They were at less than 30 000 feet from lunar surface...so close...

"I don't recall this error from simulations..."

"Neither do I. Do we...do we get ready to abort?"

Musgrave gave the abort switches a long look. He was saved by Houston, as Charlie Duke's voice finally gave an answer.

"Roger. We got you...We're Go on that alarm.", he said, with some urgency readable in his voice.

"Okay then Ted, 330."

"330."

The alarm was cleared, and the descent continued. The two tiny windows in front of the vehicle were not showing the lunar surface yet, and the crew could only imagine it - all silver and shiny and covered with uneven terrain and possibly sharp jagged rocks...

"Here's the alarm again. It appear to come up when we have a 16/68 up."

"Okay, then drop it."

"Lucien, Houston, we'll monitor your Delta-H. It's coming down beautifully."

"Good. Throttling down..."

The lunar module suddenly stopped vibrating, and the ride immediately turned from a bit shaky to a smooth one, "Wow!", Freeman exclaimed, "Throttle down on time...You can feel it in here when it throttles down. Better than the simulator."

"Roger. We copy throttle down..."

"Okay. No flags. RCS is good. DPS is good. Pressure...Okay."

"Put Descent Fuel 2 on the monitor now."

"Okay. Coming up on eight minutes."

A glimpse of the surface appeared in the left-hand window (the right-hand one was occupied by a 16mm film camera), bathing the cabin in an otherwordly glow - and, as if on cue, another program alarm began to blare. Freeman killed it with a quick hand motion, before going back to his controls. From Story Musgrave's body language, the lunar module pilot could tell his commander was tense as hell.

"Okay. 5000. 100 feet per second is good. Going to check my attitude control. Attitude control is good"

"Roger. Copy. Lucien, Houston. You're Go for landing. Over."

"Roger. Understand. Go for landing. 3000 feet.

"Program Alarm! 1201!"

"We're go, Lucien. Same type, we're still go."

"Get rid of it, Ted."

"Shadow. Got a shadow."

The lunar surface was filling up the windows now. Musgrave had to squint in order to see outside, but the bonus was that the lunar module's shadow was clealry visible on the surface. Thankfully, no huge jagged rocks were evident.

"300 feet, 2 and a half down."

"Ease her down, easy."

"How's the fuel?"

"Uh...eight percent...11 forward,coming down nicely...shit. Quantity light!"

"So early?"

"We have 94 seconds to bingo fuel.75 feet, down a half, 6 forward."

"60 seconds, guys!"

"40 feet, down 2 1/2. Picking up some dust."

"Drifting forward just a little bit, that's good..."

The LM seemed to hang in place, its exhaust plume sweeping dust off the lunar surface. The spacecraft trembled and, just for a split-second, it seemed that they ran out of time.

"Contact light!"

"Shutdown!"

"Okay. Engine Stop."

The spell burst, and with a shudder and thump, the lander settled on the surface, free-falling from nealry two metres above the ground. As soon as it did, the lunar module pilot began rapid-firing checklist items.

"ACA out of Detent."

"Out of Detent. Auto. "

"Mode Control, both Auto. Descent Engine Command Override, Off. Engine Arm, Off. 413 is in."

"We copy you down, Eagle."

Silence. Long pause.

"Houston, Rock and Roll base here! Lucien has landed!"

[PeZook]

Rock And Roll Base
The Moon, Sea Of Rock

02:39:00 July 21 1975

After the landing,the flight plan had a rest period scheduled, however Lucien's two-man crew was certain they'd be unable to sleep, and so they requested that their EVA was to take place prior to the first rest period. Houston agreed (though the decision took an hour, since everybody had to be calmed down, and the flight engineers had to be forced to put their shirts on). Announcements about the decision were made across the world.

And so, at half past two in the morning, with the mission control room absolutely packed, and half the world's population glued to their TV sets and radio receivers, Ted Freeman undid the latches on the front hatch and held it open for his commander.

Story Musgrave backed out of the spacecraft in an undignified crawling motion, which was thankfully not shown on any recording or live TV. He pulled on a specially prepared handle, which opened the Modular Equipment Stowage Assembly unit right next to the LM's ladder, and activated the TV camera. The control room's visitors gasped collectively, when the live TV image appeared on their screen.



"I'm at the foot of the ladder. The LM footpads are only depressed in the surface about 1 or 2 inches, although the surface appears to be very, very fine grained, as you get close to it. It's almost like a powder. The ground mass is very fine..."

An engineer at mission control forgot to breathe and collapsed, but that (fortunately) wasn't filmed, either.

"I am going to step off the LM now."



"This is...this is one...oh..."

"NO!", Connoway screamed, "God, how could he forget?!"

"This is one small step for a man, but a giant FUCK YEAH for Murca! Yeah! How's that feel, you dirty Zenobian commies, huh? HUH?!"

Connoway collapsed onto his seat.Man, that was close. It would've been such an embarassment for the mission commander to forget these important historical words!

The commander was joined by the lunar module pilot, and together they performed many manly tasks on the surface. They deployed important scientific instrumentations, scrawled WE WUZ 'ERE in the soil, set up a nylon Murcan flag and of course did a song and dance number.



The activities were important, but time was short. Soon enough, it was time to go home. After a restless night, the duo fired up their ascent engine and rocketed towards the heavens, knocking over their flag in the process.

---

Collins Air Force Base
Murca

17:29:00 July 24 1975

The shuttle glided down gracefully, touching down in a perfect landing, as the end of a perfect mission. The crew had to wait for ground teams to scrub the outside of the spacecraft of hydrazine, used in the RCS systems. Then they opened the hatch and were immediately shoved into a trailer, in case they contracted commienism from contaminated lunar soil (as the Zenobians have launched machines that landed on the surface, and thus could've sabotaged the landing).

Then the celebrations began. Quite ingloriously at first...



But with major pomp later on







Those were the glorious days, days of manliness and valor and courage and science and buffness and hardness and bodyoil! It seemed like they would never end, for the entire world looked up to MURCA for guidance and wisdom and apple pie, while Zenobia faltered and wavered. Yet the future was uncertain still, and much lay ahead that did not quite live up to the glourious days of the Hermes program and the brave astronauts who flew it.

THE END

----------------------

GM Notes:

So, this is it. The game ends with a "weak victory", which means that despite the sheer AWESOME power of the Hermes shuttles, Murca did not quite crush the Zenobian commies as decisively as it did in reality.

The race was indeed long, but it was also very close! There is no fault of either player here, as you have both competed well, and it was only blind luck which gave victory to the Murcans. It was great leading this game, and I am glad it turned out to be such a stellar success!

[FaxModem1]

Guess this means wrap up for everybody story wise? Though with the Zenobians having a coup, it might be rather bad for everyone on this side of the map.

[PeZook]

Guess this means wrap up for everybody story wise? Though with the Zenobians having a coup, it might be rather bad for everyone on this side of the map.

Character epilogues are allowed, encouraged and indeed expected

[Eternal_Freedom]

Fuck yes. Close race at the end, but the gamble paid off. I salute my brilliant cohorts: Barnest2, ChaserGrey, and Scottish Ninja. Your plans andplots over the months were excellent and they succeeded at the eleventh hour.

------------

In the aftermathof the celebration, Director von Braun cleaned out his desk. His time at MASA was done; he'd achieved his objective of a manned landing, and now it was time to let someone else carry the torch to the stars.

Besides, he and his secretary were getting married in a few months, and with his retirement and the enormous amount of cash they had stashed away over the years, there was nothing left to do but spend a few decades growing blissfully old together.

---------

Ed Ravensburg looked up at the Moon every night. He had never made it there, but he had flown the Hermes and paved the way for those who did reach that tantalising orb.

One thing was certain; one day they would return to space, and Edward was sure that his children and his grandchildren and great-grandchildren would be at the forefront of space flight for a long time to come.

Thanks for the ride guys!

[Simon_Jester]

Comrade Omeganski and I have been working on an epilogue for the Zenobian side, though it doesn't say anything about the coup. It's a bit slow going for me- I just can't seem to write the way I could six months or a year ago. But we should be able to roll it out reasonably soonish.

[fnord]

Can we have the First Midget In Orbit, Digaditch, involved in (or possibly leading - but the idea of President/General Secretary Digaditch scares me almost as much as Shroomanski having grandkids) the military coup?

Nikov - Lived up to his name and nicked off to the West during the coup-engendered chaos with copious amounts of Zenobian program documents. Eventually filtered through to the Stenchian/West Thanasian space program to lend it the benefit of his experience.

Fillyereski - Somehow got chucked out of the Onion (instead of being internally exiled or executed) for cruel and unusual punnishment, joined a heavy metal band (which was so totally not called Spinal Tap) as its drummer, and died in a mysterious gardening accident.