MISSIONS LAUNCH
COSMOS VII, SEPTEMBER 1968
There was a room, right next to the flight control bunker. It was a tiny room, perpetually dark, which had an airlock - or, rather, LIGHTlock - installed. Men worked there. And today, they were very excited men.
The details of the launch, the technical challenges of the trip and minutae of probe operations were not particularly important to them. They didn't much care about propellant flow or power management or communications, which made them annoying to every single engineerski sitting in the bunker. That was possibly one reason why these men were shoved here, to this tiny room.
The other one was the fact they were making blowups and reprints of photographs transmitted by the lunar probe, and the process often (though not always, depending on the technique used) involved sensitive photographic film.
The results, though, were magnificent.
And they would soon have MORE!
***
COSMOS VIII, OCTOBER 1968
Syrgy Pavylyvych was thought to attend every launch. Perhaps it was his presence which allowed them to go so splendidly, or perhaps it was merely the high technical skills of the cosmodrome's specialists.COSMOS VIII, OCTOBER 1968
Some would say, though, that a suspicious trend could be identified, related to that cheerful Boratistani who joined the program a while ago. Comrade Manshuk, always so happy, always so optimistic and claiming he was what the program needed.
What was the trend? Well, while comrade Mametov was happy and well, the Onion rose to heights of labor and scientific heroism, impressing the world with its technological missilerist prowess.
But ever since comrade Mametov had that terrible, terrible hockey accident...
Things like these started to happen.
The NKVDVROM was already beginning a thorough investigation into comrade Mametov and everyone he ever spoke to, met in passing or acknolwedged the existence of. Which meant it would probably take a while.
***
LUNA 1, NOVEMBER 1968
LUNA 1, NOVEMBER 1968
The massive rocket strutted out of its launch pad, like so many others before it. Excited yelps of the new launch engineerski notwithstanding, it was indeed an excellent piece of engineering, but that wasn't what was special about this vehicle.
Inside the payload shroud on its very top, sat a lander housing an incredible device.
A remote rover of staggering sophistication, unlike anything else the world has ever seen. With this vehicle, called Lunokhod, the Zenobian Onion would once again awe the world.
But first, of course, it would have to get to the Moon. Soft landing it was a very unique technical challenge, but Syrgy Pavylyvych was certain his crew could accomplish it. They worked quickly, yet with precision, like a well-oiled mechanism. After a decade of work on all things rockety, they knew their tasks extremely well.
"We have ignition, comrade. Good burn, good burn. All systems performing to specifications."
"Look at it go!"
"Trajectory is exactly as planned, Chief Designer."
"Staging...we have staging...final stage ignition..."
Syrgy played with his pen, watching the camera feeds from the rocket, and the massive burn clock on the wall, which slowly counted the seconds down. Finally, it crossed zero, and there was a brief bout of stony silence.
"We have orbit.", the engineerski everyone was waiting for finally reassured everybod, "Good orbit. Rocket shut down safely."
"Excellent work, comrades. Payload station, are you ready?"
"Da! Will commence diagnostic!"
Syrgy started pacing across the bunker floor. He glanced at telemetry screens, which were filling with remote data transmitted from the probe. Would the spacecraft power up properly? Would it circuits work, having survived the vibrations and shock of launch? It was a brand new probe, after all. There could still be a problem they haven't found...
An engineerski tapped his screen with a pen, "Hmm. That's funny"
Oh no. Such words were never followed with anything good.
"Precisely, comrade. What's the problem?"
"Da, comrade Chief Designer...the probe has powered up, and all systems are operating...but its drawing far more power from the fuel cells than it should..."
"How much mo...oh, I see...", Syrgy read the figure from the screen, "...shut it down immediately. Maybe we can correct the problem, but not if it uses up all reactant, da?"
"Da.", the engineerski nodded and pressed a button, "Shutting down all systems...uh, no response?"
The engineerski tried again. Comrade Maisner walked up to him, flipping through a massive binder detailing the probe's software.
"Let's try shutting it down system by system...start with propulsion and work down from there, finishing with communications..."
Syrgy almost accepted a cigarette from someone, before that someone realized who he was giving it to an hastily withdrew. As the technical teams worked feverishly to conserve power, even comissar Omeganski realized something was wrong and began stalking the edges of the workspace. He wouldn't go in - he had an agreement with Syrgy Pavylyvyvh that he wouldn't butt in when the crew was trying to solve a problem.
"Okayski...we shut the probe down. To the printouts!"
A gaggle of engineerskis rushed to another side room, where a bank of printers continuously spewed out hardcopies of all transmitted telemetry data. They grasped at the copious papers and began poring over them ,looking for a fault.
Hours passed. Tracking stations across the work monitored the inert probe, as it flew around the Earth. Adjutants and secretaries wheeled tea, coffee and ponchiki in copious quantities. Comissar Omeganski has tripped on the huge pile of papers covering the bunker's floor and would've been devoured by them, if it wasn't for quick actions of one the Red Army's Hot Librarians.
Finally, with a yell of triumph, the engineerskis rushed to their consoles. They knew the problem! And it was a rather simple fix!
"Sending power-up command to probe...da, da...probe powering up..."
The telemetry screens flashed briefly with data, and then died again. The engineerskis yelled, as one, a horrible curse.
PIZDETS!
"
- PeZook
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