Thank you for writing this amazing timeline! I would have commented after I finished binging it all last night, but in doing so I had stayed up probably later than I should have considering I had to wake up early. But I just couldn’t stop, I was hooked from the incredible story writing! I look forward to everything to come in Proxima.
Proxima: A Human Exploration of Mars
- Thread starter defconh3ck
- Start date
Chapter 33.5: Image Annex
Chapter 33.5: Image Annex
Hi folks, happy Thursday! I hope you guys have had a good week so far, I've had a busy one. I am sorry I couldn't bring you all an annex yesterday, but I'm thrilled to get to today. I'm gonna kind of split up our image annex into a few parts, just because schedules have been a little wacky. Today I wanna highlight the amazing work Jay has done for us once again, showcasing the variety of beautiful spacecraft we have in the Proxima universe. Jay has of course taken the time to showcase all of the activity going on in space, so this image annex will kind of focus on three things, Gateway, the Olympus 12 mission, and Athena, all important and inspirational missions in their own right as we work to advance our understanding of the cosmos. Our second part will be coming... shortly, most likely over this weekend! Let's jump right in!
Hi folks, happy Thursday! I hope you guys have had a good week so far, I've had a busy one. I am sorry I couldn't bring you all an annex yesterday, but I'm thrilled to get to today. I'm gonna kind of split up our image annex into a few parts, just because schedules have been a little wacky. Today I wanna highlight the amazing work Jay has done for us once again, showcasing the variety of beautiful spacecraft we have in the Proxima universe. Jay has of course taken the time to showcase all of the activity going on in space, so this image annex will kind of focus on three things, Gateway, the Olympus 12 mission, and Athena, all important and inspirational missions in their own right as we work to advance our understanding of the cosmos. Our second part will be coming... shortly, most likely over this weekend! Let's jump right in!
Challenger poses with the newly completed Gateway station, ready for her first assignment as a next generation servicing platform.
While not as big as her predecessor, Odyssey, Gateway is formidable in her skills, much more reconfigurable for a variety of mission roles.
With Challenger departing, several more key tests can be carried out on the station before she officially enters operational service...
... Including a re-boost test of her ion engines!
On Mars, despite the dust storms of the season, the crew of Olympus 10 is enjoying the creature comforts of their converted lander, as well as their new rover, Argonaut.
Even though her original crew did not make it to the surface, Orion stands tall as an example of the immense achievement of the program as a whole.
On Earth, a new dawn, with the rising of Athena - a joint Russian-European station designed to bring the two consortiums into the future as Europe looks to develop independent spaceflight.
Equipped with both APAS and CBMs, Athena is designed for maximum expansion possibility, while plug and play capability with a variety of different spacecraft is retained.
Seen from the windows of the departing Soyuz, Athena and her ATV cargo vehicle stand ready to begin the next generation of crewed spaceflight for Europe.
I'm glad you've enjoyed it so far! Lots more exciting stuff to come, so stay tuned!
Image Annex 33.5 (Part II)
Image Annex 33.5 (Part II)
Hi folks, this is gonna be a quick one, but I wanted to take this time to showcase some incredible art from some folks, Dylan and Ben, who have been so kind as to take time and create some wonderful things before we dive right back in tomorrow for our next chapter. Their stunning work is so very dearly appreciated, and I am so grateful they felt inspired to contribute to this project - so without further adieu, Athena and Argonaut.
Hi folks, this is gonna be a quick one, but I wanted to take this time to showcase some incredible art from some folks, Dylan and Ben, who have been so kind as to take time and create some wonderful things before we dive right back in tomorrow for our next chapter. Their stunning work is so very dearly appreciated, and I am so grateful they felt inspired to contribute to this project - so without further adieu, Athena and Argonaut.
Athena, before the arrival of her ATV, ponders for a moment the nature of her existence, ready to make history.
The Olympus 10 crew spends their first night checking out systems onboard Argonaut, the first night of camping of the voyage.
Chapter 34: To Build Anew
Good morning everyone, happy Monday! I hope you all got a chance to check out the amazing art showcased in the previous post by Ben and Dylan, who have time and time again shown how incredible their work is. Today, we're getting a look at a bunch of stuff, including our operations in LEO and beyond. We're really in the swing of things once more, as we begin to pick up the pieces from the unfortunate accident of Olympus 9. Jay has taken the time to curate some amazing images for us, and I cannot wait to share them all with you - do make sure to show him some love on twitter! Now we're turning our eyes to the future again, as we gear up for new systems for crew access to space. Without further adieu, lets get into it, and explore Chapter 34!
Chapter 34: To Build Anew
Onboard Athena, expansion was the name of the game. In the station’s first year alone, two more modules had been brought up to the station, the European built Newton lab and the Endurance Node. Newton had increased the station’s solar power output dramatically with its new solar arrays, aiding both the service module and visiting ATV in providing power. The first long term crew, Athena Expedition 1, had made their voyage to the station from the Baikonur Cosmodrome in early 2010, overseeing numerous experiments involving life science, stellar observation, and in space construction. Expedition 1 would remark at the incredibly efficient layout of the station, a welcome improvement from the rather cramped and chaotic layout of Zarya. The early crew of the station would be limited to two Russian and one European crew member, as was the minimum operating rules for each segment of the station. Soon, however, they could look to expansion, as another laboratory was projected to launch in 2011 or 2012. The early days of the station had been busy, but there were still moments for reflection on the part of the crew. On Expedition 2, an experiment had been launched to the station to test how painting and other such creative activities were impacted by the Overview Effect. Athena would be the first space station in human history to receive a dedicated anthropology workstation onboard, which would be committed to studying the material legacy of objects in space. Cosmic Anthropology, as it had come to be known, had begun to grow as a field in recent years, with scholars from all over the world presenting their bids for the study of human impact in space. One such anthropologist, Dr. J Aisling, had been selected as the principal designer of the Athena Human Material Legacy System, a dedicated payload rack inside Newton. Her work would go on to be instrumental in later establishing a dedicated field of study for Human Spaceflight Practice. Athena would also host a number of external payloads, mounted on the outside of the Newton module. These would include gamma ray spectrometers focused on distant stars, and the Atmospheric CO2 Monitor provided by ESA, and sponsored by the UN Office of Climate Affairs. In the station’s first year of core complete operations, Athena would demonstrate the power of Europe’s ability to take action and go boldly into space, no longer a second tier space power, but a first rate organization in their own right. It was a glorious dawn, and as the first Expedition crew rotated out, it was clear that big things were looming just beyond the horizon.
But there was something undoubtedly missing from Athena, something that Europe had been pining for all this time - independent crew access. The agreement with Ukraine had allowed them to begin fast tracking work on crew rating systems and getting them ready to fly, but there were more tests that needed to be done. Zenit’s test flights had gone to plan - lofting a test payload into a nearly perfect circular orbit from the new launch complex at Korou, and the pad abort tests had gone well, the Liberté Test Article settling on the gentle waves of the Atlantic. But an in space shakedown would be necessary in order to certify Liberté, now with the acronym CFV (Crew Ferry Vehicle) for operations to Athena and beyond. Some within the European press wondered why a standard Liberté could not be used instead, surely it had the capability required to work in the difficult environment of launch. The European Space Agency press corps would exercise patience, and do their best to explain. The CFV vehicle was different from the lifeboat in its inclusion of the launch abort system in the fairing system it would launch with, and a beefed up orbital module. The design team had spent long hours working with astronauts to ensure that the vehicle that flew on the Shuttle test flight was as close to flight ready as possible. In the middle of the night on March 10, 2010, an Airbus Beluga aircraft touched down at the Shuttle Landing Facility. The aircraft had made the long trek from France, bringing with it CFV Promise and its orbital module - the first dedicated European crew vehicle. The payload was carefully unloaded, and the upgraded Liberté was hurried off of the runway and into the climate controlled Astrotech facility. Not too far away in the VAB sat Endeavour, mated to the rest of the stack, ready to be integrated with Europe’s promise of tomorrow. Free flights of the shuttle system were rare these days, between rotation flights to stations, MTVs and more, so this was somewhat of a treat for the astronaut corps - to feel like the pioneers that came in the generation of astronauts before them. Liftoff would occur a month later to much European fanfare, celebrating the penultimate step in Europe’s journey to become the fourth collective to achieve independent space flight. Endeavour would open her payload bay doors after a clean orbital insertion, exposing the vehicle to space for the first time, her pristine tiles reflecting light back into the cosmos. The new orbital module added considerable length, and the robotic arm moved carefully to extract the spacecraft from the cargo bay, soon positioning it with adequate clearance to begin its free flight. To the two European astronauts onboard the shuttle, it was a dream come true. The vision of European spaceflight was finally realized, and as the two spacecraft slowly began to drift apart, the sunlight would glint off of its twin solar arrays, fading into orbital sunrise, the dream of tomorrow could finally become today. Promise would spend two days orbiting the Earth, checking out her systems and putting the vehicle through her paces. Two orbit raising burns were conducted, followed by TDRSS connectivity tests, and ECLSS checks. At the end of the second day, the orbital maneuvering system would fire, pushing the vehicle towards landing at White Sands. She would ditch her orbital module and prepare for entry, her stubby body flaps working to keep her oriented in the right direction. A double sonic boom would break the stillness of the desert heat, and spotter aircraft would follow the little vehicle as it made its way down through the ever thickening atmosphere, deploying her parafoil, and gently touching down on the dry lakebed. As the handful of trucks and helicopters descended on the vehicle, the mood was jovial in Cologne: ESA was ready to fly.
In space, the handoff period that occurred roughly every 26 months was set to occur yet again. The crew of Olympus 10 had made their journey home to Earth safely, leaving behind not just their worksite, but their rover, Argonaut, ready to begin its journey across the landing site. Retreating to a safe distance, Argonaut would capture the departure of the crew as their lander set sail for the complex in Martian orbit. After a recharge period of only a few days, Argonaut would begin the journey to Nilli Fossae, the targeted landing site of the Olympus 11 crew. It was a dangerous ordeal, if Argonaut could not make it to the next landing site, then the crew would be severely restricted in terms of area accessible by the crew. While backup plans did exist, they were less than ideal - keeping the crew within 25 km of their habitat at all times. Their prestaged cargo was already waiting for them, all that was left to deliver was the rover itself. The most difficult phase of the Follow the Water program, the drive, was on. Minerva had performed well on her journey home, and once her crew were safely on the ground, the final stretch of work for Olympus 11 could begin. The next lander, Hercules, had been launched successfully, and Prometheus stood ready to perform her mission, her third to the Red Planet. The crew, having spent their time in quarantine prelaunch would soon get their chance to say one final goodbye to their families as they boarded the two Astrovans to head to the pad, where Intrepid stood waiting. Their commander, NASA’s Jennifer Van Zandt, had flown recently as part of her training to Gateway, where her experience in handling robotic repair earned her a recommendation for the commander’s seat. Mikhail Dubrov, the MTV pilot from Russia, had been an Olympus 10 backup, and had been trained extensively on over 10 different types of aircraft. Lars Admunsen, the mission’s surgeon, had been a part of Doctors Without Borders for over 10 years, being deployed across the world to help address terrestrial health crises. Chet Howitzer of Canada would be the first appointed RMS specialist, representing his home country in new operating procedures installed in the aftermath of the Olympus 9 accident. Nikki Luciano from Italy would pilot their MSAV to the surface, having spent 6 months onboard Odyssey prior to her second flight onboard Olympus 11. Vadim Surdyuk of Ukraine, Benjamin Hampton and Jonas Graves of NASA would make up the rest of the crew, mission specialists with a diverse range of scientific and technical skills. Their twilight liftoff onboard Intrepid would be a glorious first step into the unknown that awaited them, and as Prometheus and Hercules ignited their nuclear engines, the adventure of Olympus 11 could well and truly begin.
At the same moment that the crew of Olympus 11 was making history, a new birth was taking place. Rolling out under the floodlights to pad 39B, Discovery carried in her payload bay a most important parcel. In her belly, the core module of the latest MTV - Selene. Built using spare parts from her sisters, she was in every way their blood, a continuation of their legacy of exploration and expansion of human knowledge. In that moment, as the crew walked alongside the crawler, they would remember Hera, who gave her final breath to ensure that Selene may one day rise - so we may all rise with the winds of change. Onboard, the lessons learned from Olympus 9’s accident had been incorporated in full, a revamped flight deck and a whole suite of upgrades to ensure the safety of crews to come. After the 8 hour trip, Discovery stood proud atop the pad, ready to catch the waiting complex in orbit. For the first time in many years, a new MTV was to be assembled in orbit. But they would not be launching to Odyssey, the birthplace of Selene’s sisters - her delivery would come at Gateway; a trial by fire for the nascent station. As the plans to construct Selene had come into focus, it became clear that the aging Odyssey complex would not handle such a new construction well, that a smaller more nimble platform could do the job. Odyssey had switched to focus on science, and the sensitive nature of the station’s instruments could not facilitate such a feat. It would, in many ways, be a test. Discovery leapt off the pad in the early morning, carrying with her the vision of a most wonderful tomorrow, tucked so delicately in her payload bay. After the 8 ½ minute climb to orbit, the orbiter would open her payload bay, and begin the chase to the complex, a delicate rendezvous which would place the orbiter within arms reach of the station. Ever so slowly, they would close the gap, bringing the great winged spacecraft to port at the nose of the new station. The crew would spend the remainder of flight day 2 opening the hatch, and enjoying the new station smell, before the hard work began tomorrow. The first steps would be securing the new Canadarm to the first module of Selene, and extracting her ever so carefully. It was a delicate operation, Selene’s core module sat right up against the shuttle payload bay diameter limits, so every step had to be carefully calculated. Once free of the confines of Shuttle, she would be placed onboard the mounting PMA, specifically designed for this moment. The petals would interlock, and the spacecraft would become one. Small robotic arms would connect hoses to the pressure vessel, bringing vital life support and power to the nascent spacecraft. Two days later, the crew would enter the spacecraft for a preliminary inspection, ensuring that all was as it should be and nothing had been damaged during launch. Inside, they found a note, left by those who built her: “To whom this may concern, Selene is our next in line, our youngest child: care for her like you would your own, she is ready to face any challenge you may throw her way. Please give her a good first voyage, and think of those who built her every now and again. There is nothing we cannot do when we put our minds to it.” Discovery would back away from the young station after 9 days of intensive construction work, preparing the facility for the next wave of launches, eager to begin the next sequence of outfitting for Selene.
On the ground, a hull sat open and partially disassembled, a relic from an uncertain age. In the aftermath of Valiant, there were some within NASA who quietly began work on a next generation system to ensure that there could potentially be a replacement for the iconic Space Shuttle. That program, X-33, had quietly been sidelined in the mid 2000s, as the prototype tanks had run into severe problems with their carbon composite elements. It had been, quite frankly, a boondoggle for Lockheed Martin. They had since moved on, dominating the field with their Atlas NG vehicle, launching in nearly every configuration, but kept tinkering with the vehicle. In a move that surprised nearly no one, the Air Force would once again put out a call for development, highlighting the recent advancements in rocket technology - The Reusable Booster Program. The program's goal was largely to fund and incentivize new technologies, albeit, while serving a certain number of high energy military flights before the general public could book a ride on a vehicle. Lockheed would find themselves in a tough spot, Venturestar and the X-33 testbed were largely intended to be commercial and accessible by all, the Reusable Booster Program would initially severely limit their scope to military payloads. But... business was business, and the reusable program would generate revenue. Lockheed had decided, once again, to tackle their Venturestar program, and in the fall of 2010, Northrop-Grumman/Raytheon and Lockheed Martin were selected as the finalists for the program. They would each receive substantial financial backing, with the goal of launching a technology demonstrator by the end of 2013. Both were ambitious vehicles in their own right, Raven consisted of a new hypersonic, reusable first stage, using a newly developed engine: the RS-84. Its power was unmatched by anything that had been studied previously for its size, promising well over 4,000 kN at sea level. In normal operations, Raven would liftoff like a normal rocket, and pitch over for the correct ascent profile. This would loft the upper stage to an acceptable altitude, when the nose of the vehicle would open to eject the payload. The vehicle would then conduct a “boostback” burn with its OMS engines before landing on the Skid Strip at Kennedy Space Center. Unlike Venturestar, Raven would use an expendable upper stage, Corvus, one that would take advantage of new metallurgy giving it an ideal mass fraction. It would be powered by a new, Rocketdyne built upper stage known as xBantam, enabling payloads of up to 15 tons to Low Earth Orbit. Venturestar was altogether more ambitious, using a single stage to orbit design, all powered by hydrogen and oxygen. The vehicle, unlike Raven, would see development flights of a subscale test model to ensure that the design could handle the rigors of entry descent and landing. Venturestar would be able to place a couple tons more of payload into LEO, and potentially work with facilities to aggregate upper stages for far reaching destinations. Venturestar had been born in a troubled state, the technology required to build it was not quite ready, but those within Lockheed felt that they could meet the challenge and bring American spaceflight into the future.
Note: Yes I know there's an American flag detail on Newton... shhh!
Chapter 34: To Build Anew
Onboard Athena, expansion was the name of the game. In the station’s first year alone, two more modules had been brought up to the station, the European built Newton lab and the Endurance Node. Newton had increased the station’s solar power output dramatically with its new solar arrays, aiding both the service module and visiting ATV in providing power. The first long term crew, Athena Expedition 1, had made their voyage to the station from the Baikonur Cosmodrome in early 2010, overseeing numerous experiments involving life science, stellar observation, and in space construction. Expedition 1 would remark at the incredibly efficient layout of the station, a welcome improvement from the rather cramped and chaotic layout of Zarya. The early crew of the station would be limited to two Russian and one European crew member, as was the minimum operating rules for each segment of the station. Soon, however, they could look to expansion, as another laboratory was projected to launch in 2011 or 2012. The early days of the station had been busy, but there were still moments for reflection on the part of the crew. On Expedition 2, an experiment had been launched to the station to test how painting and other such creative activities were impacted by the Overview Effect. Athena would be the first space station in human history to receive a dedicated anthropology workstation onboard, which would be committed to studying the material legacy of objects in space. Cosmic Anthropology, as it had come to be known, had begun to grow as a field in recent years, with scholars from all over the world presenting their bids for the study of human impact in space. One such anthropologist, Dr. J Aisling, had been selected as the principal designer of the Athena Human Material Legacy System, a dedicated payload rack inside Newton. Her work would go on to be instrumental in later establishing a dedicated field of study for Human Spaceflight Practice. Athena would also host a number of external payloads, mounted on the outside of the Newton module. These would include gamma ray spectrometers focused on distant stars, and the Atmospheric CO2 Monitor provided by ESA, and sponsored by the UN Office of Climate Affairs. In the station’s first year of core complete operations, Athena would demonstrate the power of Europe’s ability to take action and go boldly into space, no longer a second tier space power, but a first rate organization in their own right. It was a glorious dawn, and as the first Expedition crew rotated out, it was clear that big things were looming just beyond the horizon.
Athena - Expanded. The station had seen considerable growth in her first year of operation, and the small size enabled rapid upgrades. The Newton Lab and Endurance Node would be a welcome addition for crew living space, as well as the addition of ATV-2.
But there was something undoubtedly missing from Athena, something that Europe had been pining for all this time - independent crew access. The agreement with Ukraine had allowed them to begin fast tracking work on crew rating systems and getting them ready to fly, but there were more tests that needed to be done. Zenit’s test flights had gone to plan - lofting a test payload into a nearly perfect circular orbit from the new launch complex at Korou, and the pad abort tests had gone well, the Liberté Test Article settling on the gentle waves of the Atlantic. But an in space shakedown would be necessary in order to certify Liberté, now with the acronym CFV (Crew Ferry Vehicle) for operations to Athena and beyond. Some within the European press wondered why a standard Liberté could not be used instead, surely it had the capability required to work in the difficult environment of launch. The European Space Agency press corps would exercise patience, and do their best to explain. The CFV vehicle was different from the lifeboat in its inclusion of the launch abort system in the fairing system it would launch with, and a beefed up orbital module. The design team had spent long hours working with astronauts to ensure that the vehicle that flew on the Shuttle test flight was as close to flight ready as possible. In the middle of the night on March 10, 2010, an Airbus Beluga aircraft touched down at the Shuttle Landing Facility. The aircraft had made the long trek from France, bringing with it CFV Promise and its orbital module - the first dedicated European crew vehicle. The payload was carefully unloaded, and the upgraded Liberté was hurried off of the runway and into the climate controlled Astrotech facility. Not too far away in the VAB sat Endeavour, mated to the rest of the stack, ready to be integrated with Europe’s promise of tomorrow. Free flights of the shuttle system were rare these days, between rotation flights to stations, MTVs and more, so this was somewhat of a treat for the astronaut corps - to feel like the pioneers that came in the generation of astronauts before them. Liftoff would occur a month later to much European fanfare, celebrating the penultimate step in Europe’s journey to become the fourth collective to achieve independent space flight. Endeavour would open her payload bay doors after a clean orbital insertion, exposing the vehicle to space for the first time, her pristine tiles reflecting light back into the cosmos. The new orbital module added considerable length, and the robotic arm moved carefully to extract the spacecraft from the cargo bay, soon positioning it with adequate clearance to begin its free flight. To the two European astronauts onboard the shuttle, it was a dream come true. The vision of European spaceflight was finally realized, and as the two spacecraft slowly began to drift apart, the sunlight would glint off of its twin solar arrays, fading into orbital sunrise, the dream of tomorrow could finally become today. Promise would spend two days orbiting the Earth, checking out her systems and putting the vehicle through her paces. Two orbit raising burns were conducted, followed by TDRSS connectivity tests, and ECLSS checks. At the end of the second day, the orbital maneuvering system would fire, pushing the vehicle towards landing at White Sands. She would ditch her orbital module and prepare for entry, her stubby body flaps working to keep her oriented in the right direction. A double sonic boom would break the stillness of the desert heat, and spotter aircraft would follow the little vehicle as it made its way down through the ever thickening atmosphere, deploying her parafoil, and gently touching down on the dry lakebed. As the handful of trucks and helicopters descended on the vehicle, the mood was jovial in Cologne: ESA was ready to fly.
The promise of tomorrow's penultimate test, the first CFV Liberté undergoes free flight trials in space - paving the way for Europe to launch their own crew.
In space, the handoff period that occurred roughly every 26 months was set to occur yet again. The crew of Olympus 10 had made their journey home to Earth safely, leaving behind not just their worksite, but their rover, Argonaut, ready to begin its journey across the landing site. Retreating to a safe distance, Argonaut would capture the departure of the crew as their lander set sail for the complex in Martian orbit. After a recharge period of only a few days, Argonaut would begin the journey to Nilli Fossae, the targeted landing site of the Olympus 11 crew. It was a dangerous ordeal, if Argonaut could not make it to the next landing site, then the crew would be severely restricted in terms of area accessible by the crew. While backup plans did exist, they were less than ideal - keeping the crew within 25 km of their habitat at all times. Their prestaged cargo was already waiting for them, all that was left to deliver was the rover itself. The most difficult phase of the Follow the Water program, the drive, was on. Minerva had performed well on her journey home, and once her crew were safely on the ground, the final stretch of work for Olympus 11 could begin. The next lander, Hercules, had been launched successfully, and Prometheus stood ready to perform her mission, her third to the Red Planet. The crew, having spent their time in quarantine prelaunch would soon get their chance to say one final goodbye to their families as they boarded the two Astrovans to head to the pad, where Intrepid stood waiting. Their commander, NASA’s Jennifer Van Zandt, had flown recently as part of her training to Gateway, where her experience in handling robotic repair earned her a recommendation for the commander’s seat. Mikhail Dubrov, the MTV pilot from Russia, had been an Olympus 10 backup, and had been trained extensively on over 10 different types of aircraft. Lars Admunsen, the mission’s surgeon, had been a part of Doctors Without Borders for over 10 years, being deployed across the world to help address terrestrial health crises. Chet Howitzer of Canada would be the first appointed RMS specialist, representing his home country in new operating procedures installed in the aftermath of the Olympus 9 accident. Nikki Luciano from Italy would pilot their MSAV to the surface, having spent 6 months onboard Odyssey prior to her second flight onboard Olympus 11. Vadim Surdyuk of Ukraine, Benjamin Hampton and Jonas Graves of NASA would make up the rest of the crew, mission specialists with a diverse range of scientific and technical skills. Their twilight liftoff onboard Intrepid would be a glorious first step into the unknown that awaited them, and as Prometheus and Hercules ignited their nuclear engines, the adventure of Olympus 11 could well and truly begin.
Prometheus begins the burn to Mars, ready to push her crew to the limit, taking the crew of Olympus 11 onwards toward their landing site at Nilli Fossae.
At the same moment that the crew of Olympus 11 was making history, a new birth was taking place. Rolling out under the floodlights to pad 39B, Discovery carried in her payload bay a most important parcel. In her belly, the core module of the latest MTV - Selene. Built using spare parts from her sisters, she was in every way their blood, a continuation of their legacy of exploration and expansion of human knowledge. In that moment, as the crew walked alongside the crawler, they would remember Hera, who gave her final breath to ensure that Selene may one day rise - so we may all rise with the winds of change. Onboard, the lessons learned from Olympus 9’s accident had been incorporated in full, a revamped flight deck and a whole suite of upgrades to ensure the safety of crews to come. After the 8 hour trip, Discovery stood proud atop the pad, ready to catch the waiting complex in orbit. For the first time in many years, a new MTV was to be assembled in orbit. But they would not be launching to Odyssey, the birthplace of Selene’s sisters - her delivery would come at Gateway; a trial by fire for the nascent station. As the plans to construct Selene had come into focus, it became clear that the aging Odyssey complex would not handle such a new construction well, that a smaller more nimble platform could do the job. Odyssey had switched to focus on science, and the sensitive nature of the station’s instruments could not facilitate such a feat. It would, in many ways, be a test. Discovery leapt off the pad in the early morning, carrying with her the vision of a most wonderful tomorrow, tucked so delicately in her payload bay. After the 8 ½ minute climb to orbit, the orbiter would open her payload bay, and begin the chase to the complex, a delicate rendezvous which would place the orbiter within arms reach of the station. Ever so slowly, they would close the gap, bringing the great winged spacecraft to port at the nose of the new station. The crew would spend the remainder of flight day 2 opening the hatch, and enjoying the new station smell, before the hard work began tomorrow. The first steps would be securing the new Canadarm to the first module of Selene, and extracting her ever so carefully. It was a delicate operation, Selene’s core module sat right up against the shuttle payload bay diameter limits, so every step had to be carefully calculated. Once free of the confines of Shuttle, she would be placed onboard the mounting PMA, specifically designed for this moment. The petals would interlock, and the spacecraft would become one. Small robotic arms would connect hoses to the pressure vessel, bringing vital life support and power to the nascent spacecraft. Two days later, the crew would enter the spacecraft for a preliminary inspection, ensuring that all was as it should be and nothing had been damaged during launch. Inside, they found a note, left by those who built her: “To whom this may concern, Selene is our next in line, our youngest child: care for her like you would your own, she is ready to face any challenge you may throw her way. Please give her a good first voyage, and think of those who built her every now and again. There is nothing we cannot do when we put our minds to it.” Discovery would back away from the young station after 9 days of intensive construction work, preparing the facility for the next wave of launches, eager to begin the next sequence of outfitting for Selene.
On the ground, a hull sat open and partially disassembled, a relic from an uncertain age. In the aftermath of Valiant, there were some within NASA who quietly began work on a next generation system to ensure that there could potentially be a replacement for the iconic Space Shuttle. That program, X-33, had quietly been sidelined in the mid 2000s, as the prototype tanks had run into severe problems with their carbon composite elements. It had been, quite frankly, a boondoggle for Lockheed Martin. They had since moved on, dominating the field with their Atlas NG vehicle, launching in nearly every configuration, but kept tinkering with the vehicle. In a move that surprised nearly no one, the Air Force would once again put out a call for development, highlighting the recent advancements in rocket technology - The Reusable Booster Program. The program's goal was largely to fund and incentivize new technologies, albeit, while serving a certain number of high energy military flights before the general public could book a ride on a vehicle. Lockheed would find themselves in a tough spot, Venturestar and the X-33 testbed were largely intended to be commercial and accessible by all, the Reusable Booster Program would initially severely limit their scope to military payloads. But... business was business, and the reusable program would generate revenue. Lockheed had decided, once again, to tackle their Venturestar program, and in the fall of 2010, Northrop-Grumman/Raytheon and Lockheed Martin were selected as the finalists for the program. They would each receive substantial financial backing, with the goal of launching a technology demonstrator by the end of 2013. Both were ambitious vehicles in their own right, Raven consisted of a new hypersonic, reusable first stage, using a newly developed engine: the RS-84. Its power was unmatched by anything that had been studied previously for its size, promising well over 4,000 kN at sea level. In normal operations, Raven would liftoff like a normal rocket, and pitch over for the correct ascent profile. This would loft the upper stage to an acceptable altitude, when the nose of the vehicle would open to eject the payload. The vehicle would then conduct a “boostback” burn with its OMS engines before landing on the Skid Strip at Kennedy Space Center. Unlike Venturestar, Raven would use an expendable upper stage, Corvus, one that would take advantage of new metallurgy giving it an ideal mass fraction. It would be powered by a new, Rocketdyne built upper stage known as xBantam, enabling payloads of up to 15 tons to Low Earth Orbit. Venturestar was altogether more ambitious, using a single stage to orbit design, all powered by hydrogen and oxygen. The vehicle, unlike Raven, would see development flights of a subscale test model to ensure that the design could handle the rigors of entry descent and landing. Venturestar would be able to place a couple tons more of payload into LEO, and potentially work with facilities to aggregate upper stages for far reaching destinations. Venturestar had been born in a troubled state, the technology required to build it was not quite ready, but those within Lockheed felt that they could meet the challenge and bring American spaceflight into the future.
Note: Yes I know there's an American flag detail on Newton... shhh!
Whoo, a lot to catch up on!
32:
This is a very emotional chapter to return to, wow. Taylor is a valiant soul, and to sit through the review process after such a traumatic event and still feel that strongly about continuing, it’s truly commendable in every way. Just as Douglass’ leadership of the first landing mission continues to resonate through the story even when she isn’t present, I have a feeling the journey this crew took together will have a similar impact.
As much as this is focused on emphasizing it was a human accident, the line that really drove that idea home for me was, strangely, this one:
“This was, the report noted, an accident unlike any seen before: it was not a technical failure, rather, a technical success.”
The line that hits me the most, however, are these bookends from Martin’s speech:
“We, the crew of Olympus 10, represent a step back. We represent a cautious moment, a moment of concern… We are ready to head, once more, into the breach.”
33:
Excellent, other projects!! This is a much needed breather after chapter 32, and it’s nice to check in on what else is happening. But I very much am worried now about that door on Gateway…
Sad to see the banjo playing overruled!! But the Argonaut is very interesting, I’m excited to see what else it enables our crew to do on this stay on Mars.
Hello Athena! But goodbye, Zarya
Both Athena and Argonaut look great in this image annex. Everything does, as always the work from your contributors is stellar. But I’m in love with this little drawing of Argonaut!!
34:
And yes, more Athena! She’s gorgeous with the expansions!! It’s wonderful to see the ESA doing more in this universe, and congrats to Liberté on her promotion haha
More than that, it’s beautiful to see Selene rise. Representing not just the push forward with the tech, but the perseverance of the O9 crew, and the ability for humankind to bounce back, is how I see her presence here. Which brings me to the standout line from this chapter, from the note left with Selene for the crew:
“Please give her a good first voyage, and think of those who built her every now and again. There is nothing we cannot do when we put our minds to it.”
And a new player enters… Curious to see what happens with Venturestar!
This was a LOT to catch up on, and a wild rollercoaster of emotions. But, as always, the writing is tight and neat while conveying a lot of emotion and realness when it needs to. And the contributions from your contributors continue to bring the universe more and more to life.
32:
This is a very emotional chapter to return to, wow. Taylor is a valiant soul, and to sit through the review process after such a traumatic event and still feel that strongly about continuing, it’s truly commendable in every way. Just as Douglass’ leadership of the first landing mission continues to resonate through the story even when she isn’t present, I have a feeling the journey this crew took together will have a similar impact.
As much as this is focused on emphasizing it was a human accident, the line that really drove that idea home for me was, strangely, this one:
“This was, the report noted, an accident unlike any seen before: it was not a technical failure, rather, a technical success.”
The line that hits me the most, however, are these bookends from Martin’s speech:
“We, the crew of Olympus 10, represent a step back. We represent a cautious moment, a moment of concern… We are ready to head, once more, into the breach.”
33:
Excellent, other projects!! This is a much needed breather after chapter 32, and it’s nice to check in on what else is happening. But I very much am worried now about that door on Gateway…
Sad to see the banjo playing overruled!! But the Argonaut is very interesting, I’m excited to see what else it enables our crew to do on this stay on Mars.
Hello Athena! But goodbye, Zarya
Both Athena and Argonaut look great in this image annex. Everything does, as always the work from your contributors is stellar. But I’m in love with this little drawing of Argonaut!!
34:
And yes, more Athena! She’s gorgeous with the expansions!! It’s wonderful to see the ESA doing more in this universe, and congrats to Liberté on her promotion haha
More than that, it’s beautiful to see Selene rise. Representing not just the push forward with the tech, but the perseverance of the O9 crew, and the ability for humankind to bounce back, is how I see her presence here. Which brings me to the standout line from this chapter, from the note left with Selene for the crew:
“Please give her a good first voyage, and think of those who built her every now and again. There is nothing we cannot do when we put our minds to it.”
And a new player enters… Curious to see what happens with Venturestar!
This was a LOT to catch up on, and a wild rollercoaster of emotions. But, as always, the writing is tight and neat while conveying a lot of emotion and realness when it needs to. And the contributions from your contributors continue to bring the universe more and more to life.
Things are certainly getting interesting! It’s great to see ESA thriving in space, between insightful human studies aboard Athena and the first flight of Promise. Besides the latest strides at Mars, I’m definitely looking forward to seeing what plays out between Raven and Venturestar…
Have to agree with MrNewsMan here, the note from Selene’s builders struck a chord with me today. Wishing her fair winds and following seas
Have to agree with MrNewsMan here, the note from Selene’s builders struck a chord with me today. Wishing her fair winds and following seas
One of my big things when I first thought of Liberté was "okay, how can this evolve into something more" and thats what I hoped to accomplish here. There are a couple of concepts from European spaceflight history that I looked at for this, but their experience with lifting bodies felt the most... right for this timeline. After all, we're working through a lot of major changes here!Things are certainly getting interesting! It’s great to see ESA thriving in space, between insightful human studies aboard Athena and the first flight of Promise. Besides the latest strides at Mars, I’m definitely looking forward to seeing what plays out between Raven and Venturestar…
Have to agree with MrNewsMan here, the note from Selene’s builders struck a chord with me today. Wishing her fair winds and following seas
This to me was one of the most important things to stress about this kind of accident, it is uniquely human. We have a lot of things that influence us on the ground in our day to day, but the needs of other human beings when you're so far from home really come first. This shows that everything worked how it was supposed to, despite human factors being complex and unpredictable, as they so often are.
Chapter 34.5: Image Annex
Chapter 34.5: Image Annex
Hello everyone, happy Wednesday! I apologize that it is a little later than intended, but I had some errands to run/things to do/places to be etc. I want to take a closer look at some amazing images this week from Jay, and highlight once again the ever growing Proxima Original Soundtrack that Ben has been curating for us (there is a special addition there). I of course always want to thank all of the people who have made this project possible, supporting not only me but each other in curating such a wonderful piece of work. I realized recently that Proxima is nearing... novel length, and I never thought that I could write something so incredibly detailed and have it actually be done, so I want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart for really supporting me throughout this journey. It's been amazing, and there is so much more to come. Without further adieu, lets take a look at some incredible images!
Athena: Given her expansion, Athena is ready to lead as we head into the 2010s, and is posed for even greater expansion. While Russia may have lead the Zarya project, Europe is firmly in the lead now, ready for expansion as they head into the future.
Olympus 11: Olympus 11, the second mission to the Red Planet since the Olympus 9 accident. The mission to Nilli Fossae, conducted by Prometheus and her crew's lander, Hercules, is ready to rendezvous with the Argonaut rover and further our scope as we explore. While still firmly within their cautious approach, Olympus 11 aims to conduct bold new science as the Olympus Partnership considers the next phase of missions to Mars. What's next?
Liberté CFV: A new age for Europe, a promise of tomorrow - flight at last! It's been a long time coming, but we're finally at a stage where independent European access to space is attainable. Liberté is a vehicle ready to carry the continent into the next decade, and ensure that spaceflight is open for all. The design of the expanded orbital module is largely based on some concepts for Russia's Kliper and some European lifting bodies, and the exclusion of the launch abort system from the vehicle itself (rather, placing it on the LV adapter) ensures that weight remains low. This vehicle will prove to be an essential part of operations to Athena and beyond!
Hello everyone, happy Wednesday! I apologize that it is a little later than intended, but I had some errands to run/things to do/places to be etc. I want to take a closer look at some amazing images this week from Jay, and highlight once again the ever growing Proxima Original Soundtrack that Ben has been curating for us (there is a special addition there). I of course always want to thank all of the people who have made this project possible, supporting not only me but each other in curating such a wonderful piece of work. I realized recently that Proxima is nearing... novel length, and I never thought that I could write something so incredibly detailed and have it actually be done, so I want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart for really supporting me throughout this journey. It's been amazing, and there is so much more to come. Without further adieu, lets take a look at some incredible images!
Athena: Given her expansion, Athena is ready to lead as we head into the 2010s, and is posed for even greater expansion. While Russia may have lead the Zarya project, Europe is firmly in the lead now, ready for expansion as they head into the future.
Olympus 11: Olympus 11, the second mission to the Red Planet since the Olympus 9 accident. The mission to Nilli Fossae, conducted by Prometheus and her crew's lander, Hercules, is ready to rendezvous with the Argonaut rover and further our scope as we explore. While still firmly within their cautious approach, Olympus 11 aims to conduct bold new science as the Olympus Partnership considers the next phase of missions to Mars. What's next?
Liberté CFV: A new age for Europe, a promise of tomorrow - flight at last! It's been a long time coming, but we're finally at a stage where independent European access to space is attainable. Liberté is a vehicle ready to carry the continent into the next decade, and ensure that spaceflight is open for all. The design of the expanded orbital module is largely based on some concepts for Russia's Kliper and some European lifting bodies, and the exclusion of the launch abort system from the vehicle itself (rather, placing it on the LV adapter) ensures that weight remains low. This vehicle will prove to be an essential part of operations to Athena and beyond!
I for one would absolutely love a printed version of Proxima someday once it is fully completed!
It maaaaaaaay be in the works, we shall see! I will absolutely have the whole thing available as a PDF, for sure! Might be an art book too, who knows.
One of my good friends was thinking about doing it! and I'd love to either do a physical art book or an online slideshow kind of deal, it would be really cool to show yall just how much has gone into itPlease please do an art book
Chapter 35: Promise of Tomorrow
Good morning folks, happy Monday! This week, we're taking a step away from the Martian program a bit, and looking at some of the accomplishments around the world as we explore this diverse and promising future. I think it's important, as we explore, to wonder what the rest of the world is up to, while still keeping the Olympus program in our minds. I want to thank two wonderful folks today - Peter, who helped me devise some rather evil goings on in the first part of the chapter, and Jay, for his fantastic images as always. We'll be exploring lots of really interesting things so sit down, buckle up and hold on! Things are about to get FUNKY.
Chapter 35: Promise of Tomorrow
On March 11, 2011 In the skies of Cape Canaveral, the debris of a private weather satellite and a Delta III rocket rained down on the Atlantic, bringing to a swift end a mission designed to revolutionize and bolster access to information about weather over the the United States. In the immediate days after the disaster, pieces of equipment would be pulled from the water - and in a PR crisis for the launch provider, Boeing, the fairing would be pulled from the icy Atlantic, containing the inscription of StormWatch 1, and Boeing. One of the first major space accidents in well over 10 years, the media would descend on the Cape, with Boeing in the firing line. Almost immediately, Boeing would offer their medium to heavy lift Helios vehicle to the Weather Channel, with a reduced but still high price to launch StormWatch 1A, the backup satellite. Ultimately, Lockheed would snag the contract out from under them, securing a much more competitive rate. It would soon become clear that commercial support for Delta III was waning - the vehicle was aging, and many felt as though the quality of products that had been shipped had not been up to snuff. Lockheed would quickly move to secure payloads that were set to launch on Delta III, and even dual launching payloads that had been meant for Delta II. For the team at Boeing, the situation looked rather dire. Helios had been a long standing success, and had payloads to keep it flying for many years, but their medium lifters looked to be aging too quickly to keep up with market demand. Confidence was waning fast, and a stand down attempt at a second launch later that year resulted in yet another payload being gobbled up by Atlas. An investigation revealed Boeing’s worst fears, the failure had been due to a liquid oxygen pump failing, and the explosion igniting the fuel in the tanks, effectively causing the rocket to unzip. The RS-27 main engine was also in use on the Delta II, the sister launch vehicle. Delta III was quietly retired without grace, the last flight model donated to the Rocket Garden at Kennedy Space Center, while Delta II soldiered on for a few more flights. Boeing was in crisis, losing a light to medium launch vehicle meant that they had relied on for so many years. Unsure of their steps, the teams at Boeing returned to the drawing board, and began to piece together their next move.
Despite this failure, the progress of the exploration of the Solar System continued. Cassini had just been extended, and was well on its way to operate to the late 2010s or even beyond. The relative success of Huygens had bolstered plans for landings in the Outer Solar System. An early proposal that had been circulating highlighted the need for a detailed series of landers on the surface of Titan to learn about the complex geology and chemistry taking place on the moon. A follow-on dedicated orbiter to Cassini, Titan Life Explorer, was proposed by the Applied Physics Laboratory to be launched on a fast transfer to the moon in order to study the various systems that the veiled moon possessed, and ponder over whether or not the moon contained life. This, however, would have to wait, as Jupiter once again came into focus. Two rockets sat on their respective pads at Kennedy Space Center. On Pad 39A, a Jupiter-OPAV, with the fully assembled Borelli orbiter, a behemoth of a spacecraft ready to explore the Jupiter system. Borelli had been in part, a scaled back version of the Jupiter Icy Moons Orbiter, or JIMO concept, proposed in years prior. An immensely complex launch campaign would have been required But Borelli was not alone. Further down the range, a Boeing Helios vehicle, with its 7m Phaeton upper stage, sat ready to rendezvous with the probe in orbit, one of the first times such a feat had been attempted. The probe itself was massive, and would not be able to make it to Jupiter on its own despite its Nuclear Electric Propulsion Element. Instead, it would rendezvous with the payload-less Phaeton upper of Helios, before committing to Trans-Jupiter-Injection. The whole operation would take less than 48 hours, arguably one of the most important parts of the mission. Such a quick turnaround was necessitated by the batteries onboard Borelli, the vehicle could only remain in its quiescent mode for that long. If this objective was not met, Gateway would be dispatched to retrieve the vehicle, a complex process that would add costly delays to the project as a whole. Fortunately, this retrieval would not be necessary, a picture perfect launch by Inspiration would carry the probe to orbit, followed 6 hours later by the Helios-Phaeton stack. The probe would rely on long duration batteries as it patiently awaited its ride to the outer Solar System, but tensions remained high in JPL as mission planners waiting for the Phaeton stage to make its final move. Docking would be conducted smoothly, under the gentle puffs of Phaeton’s reaction control thrusters, and the two giant spacecraft would become one. Soon, the twin engines of Phaeton would light, pushing Borelli out of the Earth-Moon system. The powerful upper stage would shut down, and the vehicle would be released, unfurling its massive boom and extending its radiators, ready to explore the Jovian system
At Mars, the crew of Olympus 11 would arrive on the surface to a conundrum - Argonaut was nowhere to be found. Before their descent, they had observed as Argonaut had attempted to traverse the final 20 miles to the landing site, navigating a treacherous field of sand. The rover had clearly gotten stuck, and was commanded to hunker down and wait for the crew to arrive. Upon their landing, Jennifer Van Zandt, the commander, would head out on their lightweight rover to the last reported position accompanied by Ben Hampton and Vadin Surdyuk, only to find the rover in a sorry state. The pressurized rover was caught in a sandtrap, six inches deep on the first two wheels with no easy way out of the pit. Hampton would get to work with the shovel, while Surdyuk would come up with something rather ingenious. Using the science airlock, he would toss two sleeping mats from the spare equipment locker onto the sand, and work with the Commander to try and move the front wheels onto them. Over the course of many hours, the crew would carefully inch the rover out of the sand trap, before the rover would finally come to rest on the planet’s surface once again. Triumphantly, they would return to their lander, Hercules, in a display of strength. The scene would be broadcast around the world, two astronauts riding on the sides of the lander (in a definite violation of safety regulation) waving the flags of their mission. They had done it, rescued a vital piece of equipment that would enable them to explore the surface of Mars. And explore the surface they did. Their first three week expedition would take them to the edge of Gale Crater, a large feature on the planet’s surface. The crater had been a prime target for exploration in the early days of the Olympus program, but had been ruled out in favor of flatter areas until the landing characteristics of the MSAV had been better understood. The crew of Dubrov, Anmundsen and Graves would make their way to the crater’s rim, before anchoring the rover to the ground and preparing to repel down the side. A unique feature of the ARES suits flown on this mission were integrated harness points for repelling, something the early crews did not have to contend with. The rover would winch them down around 90 feet to an outcropping, where they could retrieve samples from the cliff side and work in relative comfort. Within 30 minutes, they had made a profound discovery - more water ice. This water, however, was special - it was mostly solid, protected from the ablative impacts and the sun by the side of the cliff, and contained bubbles and little dirt, a unique find in comparison to the contaminated crystals observed on Olympus 8. The crew were overjoyed, another discovery that could potentially offer clues to the past of the Red Planet. Ever so carefully, the water was extracted in small, stainless steel cores and placed in a sealed container, kept cool by siphoning power from their suits. It was a delicate operation, and the crew had to be in perfect sync in order to ensure the preservation of the delicate samples. The return from Gale Crater would be long, but Argonaut did her job, carrying the crew home to finish the rest of their work on the surface. The rover, despite its hiccup during the transit, had been an immensely useful asset, and as the odometer ticked up, mission planners began to work on the next bold leap for the Martian surface crews.
In Korou, French Guiana, a new age was beginning. Clad in their flight suits, a crew of two boarded their transfer van and made the 3 mile drive to the launch pad. They were to be Europe’s first independently launched astronauts, riding their Liberté CFV Promise to the waiting Athena complex. The mission commander, Lara Nespoli, had flown twice to Zarya and had been a mission specialist on Olympus 1, a seasoned veteran who ESA had not hesitated to assign. The mission’s pilot would be Maxime Martel, another Olympus veteran who had flown on the unusual 5V mission to Venus. Where a normal mission would seat 4 or even 6, this mission would be the smallest crew flight of Liberté. Athena had entered a decrewed period, which was to be avoided in the future as rotations from both Soyuz and Liberté would ensure a constant crewed presence onboard the outpost. This was largely done to ensure a safe operating environment for the still experimental vehicle. Below the station, steaming in the sticky Korou heat sat their carrier rocket, the newly christened EuroZenit. Instead of the gray paint scheme flown on Energia, this variant was adorned with the flags of all the European Space Agency member states against a white and blue background, sprinkled with gold stars. In many ways, it was emblematic of the program itself - at long last, after nearly 30 years of spaceflight by way of other programs, Europe could speak for itself in space. As the hatch closed, and the service structures swung away from the rocket, the whole continent would turn their attention to the small colony of France. The final moments of the countdown came and went, and the RD-170 main engine of the vehicle would roar to life, scattering the various frigate birds and other wildlife around the complex. The vehicle would lift off of the pad, and Nespoli could be heard over the big loop proclaiming “Che Giro!” - What a ride. The vehicle would pitch over and align itself with the correct heading, the power of the main engine audible as it crackled over the Amazon rainforest. In orbit, the Russo-European crew would use their high power cameras to capture the launch, the dawn of a new era in space. Soon, the first stage would be expended and separate, falling away towards the cold Atlantic ocean. Under the thrust of the second stage, the crew would continue to orbit, before the engines of the second stage would shut down, and silence would fall over the spacecraft, peace in orbit at last.
Across the continent, the mood was jubilant - Europe had become the fourth player in space, a dream held so dearly for so long by so many. The spacecraft, as it crossed the Atlantic, would assume the correct attitude for orbital cruise, its crew taking the first pictures of a united Europe staring up at them. In Korou, Arianespace executives opened a bottle of champagne as they watched the trail of smoke from the rocket dissipate. In Paris, a light show projected on the Eiffel Tower showcased an animation of the rocket carrying the strange looking spaceplane to orbit. In Turin, bells rang in the city center, and in London, the great London Eye was illuminated with the flags of ESA member states. As the spacecraft separated from its upper stage, the crew would begin to configure Promise for her two day orbital flight. Solar panel deployment had been one of the first events post separation, with the angled solar array wings elegantly unfurling from the sides of the orbital module and locking into place. One of the first tasks accomplished by the crew would be to open the hatch between the entry module and the orbital module, accomplished by sliding two doors out of the way. This would reveal to the crew the docking control systems, additional life support and plenty of room for two. The next two days would be spent giving press conferences, observing the Earth below, and beginning their approach to Athena. One key test still remained for the intrepid spacecraft, docking. While the vehicle could dock automatically, it was decided that a test of manual approach would push the spacecraft in ways it would not normally. After their two day chase, Promise would line up with the forward port, extending the soft docking ring on the orbital module’s APAS collar. Martel would take the stick, inching ever closer to their target. The crew of the strange spacecraft could only observe as their new station grew ever closer, this futuristic yet somehow familiar spacecraft hanging ever so silently just meters away from them. Soon, with a gentle thump, the two spacecraft would connect, and the hatches would swing open. The crew of Promise would celebrate, and Europe would turn their eyes to the future, ready for whatever lay waiting for them.
American satellites swiveled their electronic eyes to look at the Wenchang launch facility in southern China, alerted to some form of launch. As they trained their sensors, they would detect something big and previously unknown, rocketing skywards. Across the country, and around the world, intelligence agencies perked up, stirred from the melancholy nature of image processing. Sleepy sentinels, one by one, turned their infrared eyes on the vehicle, rocketing towards this new super heavy vehicle. As the boosters fell away, and the payload fairings would jettison, observers on the ground and suspended in space would do what they could to identify the mysterious spacecraft. As the core stage burned out, barely orbital, it became clear to spotters on the ground what had been launched - a space station core. Such a thing was not outside of the realm of possibility, their ambitions for such a facility had been made known - but the Chinese had been unusually public in their space endeavors, and very little chatter circulated around the internet. NROL-68, a KH-11 KENNEN, was soon assigned the task of imaging the spacecraft on-orbit in order to learn more, and after a few weeks of phasing, completed its pass. It revealed a spacecraft much like the DOS modules found on Zarya, albeit with much newer construction. New, roll-out solar arrays and other upgrades could be made out, but what was most shocking was the aft of the spacecraft - a truss segment, or the start of one. The station would sit, untouched in orbit for many weeks before yet another new heavy lift vehicle would lift off, casting off its boosters and fairing all the same. Once again, the eyes of the world turned to see what great payload it carried. As the core stage drifted away, the payload would begin to unfold itself. From the sides of the spindly vehicle, two great arrays would stretch out, and after successful docking to the space station core, it became clear what their purpose was: an ion drive.
Chapter 35: Promise of Tomorrow
On March 11, 2011 In the skies of Cape Canaveral, the debris of a private weather satellite and a Delta III rocket rained down on the Atlantic, bringing to a swift end a mission designed to revolutionize and bolster access to information about weather over the the United States. In the immediate days after the disaster, pieces of equipment would be pulled from the water - and in a PR crisis for the launch provider, Boeing, the fairing would be pulled from the icy Atlantic, containing the inscription of StormWatch 1, and Boeing. One of the first major space accidents in well over 10 years, the media would descend on the Cape, with Boeing in the firing line. Almost immediately, Boeing would offer their medium to heavy lift Helios vehicle to the Weather Channel, with a reduced but still high price to launch StormWatch 1A, the backup satellite. Ultimately, Lockheed would snag the contract out from under them, securing a much more competitive rate. It would soon become clear that commercial support for Delta III was waning - the vehicle was aging, and many felt as though the quality of products that had been shipped had not been up to snuff. Lockheed would quickly move to secure payloads that were set to launch on Delta III, and even dual launching payloads that had been meant for Delta II. For the team at Boeing, the situation looked rather dire. Helios had been a long standing success, and had payloads to keep it flying for many years, but their medium lifters looked to be aging too quickly to keep up with market demand. Confidence was waning fast, and a stand down attempt at a second launch later that year resulted in yet another payload being gobbled up by Atlas. An investigation revealed Boeing’s worst fears, the failure had been due to a liquid oxygen pump failing, and the explosion igniting the fuel in the tanks, effectively causing the rocket to unzip. The RS-27 main engine was also in use on the Delta II, the sister launch vehicle. Delta III was quietly retired without grace, the last flight model donated to the Rocket Garden at Kennedy Space Center, while Delta II soldiered on for a few more flights. Boeing was in crisis, losing a light to medium launch vehicle meant that they had relied on for so many years. Unsure of their steps, the teams at Boeing returned to the drawing board, and began to piece together their next move.
Despite this failure, the progress of the exploration of the Solar System continued. Cassini had just been extended, and was well on its way to operate to the late 2010s or even beyond. The relative success of Huygens had bolstered plans for landings in the Outer Solar System. An early proposal that had been circulating highlighted the need for a detailed series of landers on the surface of Titan to learn about the complex geology and chemistry taking place on the moon. A follow-on dedicated orbiter to Cassini, Titan Life Explorer, was proposed by the Applied Physics Laboratory to be launched on a fast transfer to the moon in order to study the various systems that the veiled moon possessed, and ponder over whether or not the moon contained life. This, however, would have to wait, as Jupiter once again came into focus. Two rockets sat on their respective pads at Kennedy Space Center. On Pad 39A, a Jupiter-OPAV, with the fully assembled Borelli orbiter, a behemoth of a spacecraft ready to explore the Jupiter system. Borelli had been in part, a scaled back version of the Jupiter Icy Moons Orbiter, or JIMO concept, proposed in years prior. An immensely complex launch campaign would have been required But Borelli was not alone. Further down the range, a Boeing Helios vehicle, with its 7m Phaeton upper stage, sat ready to rendezvous with the probe in orbit, one of the first times such a feat had been attempted. The probe itself was massive, and would not be able to make it to Jupiter on its own despite its Nuclear Electric Propulsion Element. Instead, it would rendezvous with the payload-less Phaeton upper of Helios, before committing to Trans-Jupiter-Injection. The whole operation would take less than 48 hours, arguably one of the most important parts of the mission. Such a quick turnaround was necessitated by the batteries onboard Borelli, the vehicle could only remain in its quiescent mode for that long. If this objective was not met, Gateway would be dispatched to retrieve the vehicle, a complex process that would add costly delays to the project as a whole. Fortunately, this retrieval would not be necessary, a picture perfect launch by Inspiration would carry the probe to orbit, followed 6 hours later by the Helios-Phaeton stack. The probe would rely on long duration batteries as it patiently awaited its ride to the outer Solar System, but tensions remained high in JPL as mission planners waiting for the Phaeton stage to make its final move. Docking would be conducted smoothly, under the gentle puffs of Phaeton’s reaction control thrusters, and the two giant spacecraft would become one. Soon, the twin engines of Phaeton would light, pushing Borelli out of the Earth-Moon system. The powerful upper stage would shut down, and the vehicle would be released, unfurling its massive boom and extending its radiators, ready to explore the Jovian system
At Mars, the crew of Olympus 11 would arrive on the surface to a conundrum - Argonaut was nowhere to be found. Before their descent, they had observed as Argonaut had attempted to traverse the final 20 miles to the landing site, navigating a treacherous field of sand. The rover had clearly gotten stuck, and was commanded to hunker down and wait for the crew to arrive. Upon their landing, Jennifer Van Zandt, the commander, would head out on their lightweight rover to the last reported position accompanied by Ben Hampton and Vadin Surdyuk, only to find the rover in a sorry state. The pressurized rover was caught in a sandtrap, six inches deep on the first two wheels with no easy way out of the pit. Hampton would get to work with the shovel, while Surdyuk would come up with something rather ingenious. Using the science airlock, he would toss two sleeping mats from the spare equipment locker onto the sand, and work with the Commander to try and move the front wheels onto them. Over the course of many hours, the crew would carefully inch the rover out of the sand trap, before the rover would finally come to rest on the planet’s surface once again. Triumphantly, they would return to their lander, Hercules, in a display of strength. The scene would be broadcast around the world, two astronauts riding on the sides of the lander (in a definite violation of safety regulation) waving the flags of their mission. They had done it, rescued a vital piece of equipment that would enable them to explore the surface of Mars. And explore the surface they did. Their first three week expedition would take them to the edge of Gale Crater, a large feature on the planet’s surface. The crater had been a prime target for exploration in the early days of the Olympus program, but had been ruled out in favor of flatter areas until the landing characteristics of the MSAV had been better understood. The crew of Dubrov, Anmundsen and Graves would make their way to the crater’s rim, before anchoring the rover to the ground and preparing to repel down the side. A unique feature of the ARES suits flown on this mission were integrated harness points for repelling, something the early crews did not have to contend with. The rover would winch them down around 90 feet to an outcropping, where they could retrieve samples from the cliff side and work in relative comfort. Within 30 minutes, they had made a profound discovery - more water ice. This water, however, was special - it was mostly solid, protected from the ablative impacts and the sun by the side of the cliff, and contained bubbles and little dirt, a unique find in comparison to the contaminated crystals observed on Olympus 8. The crew were overjoyed, another discovery that could potentially offer clues to the past of the Red Planet. Ever so carefully, the water was extracted in small, stainless steel cores and placed in a sealed container, kept cool by siphoning power from their suits. It was a delicate operation, and the crew had to be in perfect sync in order to ensure the preservation of the delicate samples. The return from Gale Crater would be long, but Argonaut did her job, carrying the crew home to finish the rest of their work on the surface. The rover, despite its hiccup during the transit, had been an immensely useful asset, and as the odometer ticked up, mission planners began to work on the next bold leap for the Martian surface crews.
Standing proud, Argonaut rests after its long journey from the Olympus 10 landing site, ready to continue on and support the Olympus 11 crew.
In Korou, French Guiana, a new age was beginning. Clad in their flight suits, a crew of two boarded their transfer van and made the 3 mile drive to the launch pad. They were to be Europe’s first independently launched astronauts, riding their Liberté CFV Promise to the waiting Athena complex. The mission commander, Lara Nespoli, had flown twice to Zarya and had been a mission specialist on Olympus 1, a seasoned veteran who ESA had not hesitated to assign. The mission’s pilot would be Maxime Martel, another Olympus veteran who had flown on the unusual 5V mission to Venus. Where a normal mission would seat 4 or even 6, this mission would be the smallest crew flight of Liberté. Athena had entered a decrewed period, which was to be avoided in the future as rotations from both Soyuz and Liberté would ensure a constant crewed presence onboard the outpost. This was largely done to ensure a safe operating environment for the still experimental vehicle. Below the station, steaming in the sticky Korou heat sat their carrier rocket, the newly christened EuroZenit. Instead of the gray paint scheme flown on Energia, this variant was adorned with the flags of all the European Space Agency member states against a white and blue background, sprinkled with gold stars. In many ways, it was emblematic of the program itself - at long last, after nearly 30 years of spaceflight by way of other programs, Europe could speak for itself in space. As the hatch closed, and the service structures swung away from the rocket, the whole continent would turn their attention to the small colony of France. The final moments of the countdown came and went, and the RD-170 main engine of the vehicle would roar to life, scattering the various frigate birds and other wildlife around the complex. The vehicle would lift off of the pad, and Nespoli could be heard over the big loop proclaiming “Che Giro!” - What a ride. The vehicle would pitch over and align itself with the correct heading, the power of the main engine audible as it crackled over the Amazon rainforest. In orbit, the Russo-European crew would use their high power cameras to capture the launch, the dawn of a new era in space. Soon, the first stage would be expended and separate, falling away towards the cold Atlantic ocean. Under the thrust of the second stage, the crew would continue to orbit, before the engines of the second stage would shut down, and silence would fall over the spacecraft, peace in orbit at last.
Across the continent, the mood was jubilant - Europe had become the fourth player in space, a dream held so dearly for so long by so many. The spacecraft, as it crossed the Atlantic, would assume the correct attitude for orbital cruise, its crew taking the first pictures of a united Europe staring up at them. In Korou, Arianespace executives opened a bottle of champagne as they watched the trail of smoke from the rocket dissipate. In Paris, a light show projected on the Eiffel Tower showcased an animation of the rocket carrying the strange looking spaceplane to orbit. In Turin, bells rang in the city center, and in London, the great London Eye was illuminated with the flags of ESA member states. As the spacecraft separated from its upper stage, the crew would begin to configure Promise for her two day orbital flight. Solar panel deployment had been one of the first events post separation, with the angled solar array wings elegantly unfurling from the sides of the orbital module and locking into place. One of the first tasks accomplished by the crew would be to open the hatch between the entry module and the orbital module, accomplished by sliding two doors out of the way. This would reveal to the crew the docking control systems, additional life support and plenty of room for two. The next two days would be spent giving press conferences, observing the Earth below, and beginning their approach to Athena. One key test still remained for the intrepid spacecraft, docking. While the vehicle could dock automatically, it was decided that a test of manual approach would push the spacecraft in ways it would not normally. After their two day chase, Promise would line up with the forward port, extending the soft docking ring on the orbital module’s APAS collar. Martel would take the stick, inching ever closer to their target. The crew of the strange spacecraft could only observe as their new station grew ever closer, this futuristic yet somehow familiar spacecraft hanging ever so silently just meters away from them. Soon, with a gentle thump, the two spacecraft would connect, and the hatches would swing open. The crew of Promise would celebrate, and Europe would turn their eyes to the future, ready for whatever lay waiting for them.
On final approach, the crew of Promise make their moves towards Athena, ready to make history with Europe's first crewed docking. The age of the European Space Renaissance was well and truly here.
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American satellites swiveled their electronic eyes to look at the Wenchang launch facility in southern China, alerted to some form of launch. As they trained their sensors, they would detect something big and previously unknown, rocketing skywards. Across the country, and around the world, intelligence agencies perked up, stirred from the melancholy nature of image processing. Sleepy sentinels, one by one, turned their infrared eyes on the vehicle, rocketing towards this new super heavy vehicle. As the boosters fell away, and the payload fairings would jettison, observers on the ground and suspended in space would do what they could to identify the mysterious spacecraft. As the core stage burned out, barely orbital, it became clear to spotters on the ground what had been launched - a space station core. Such a thing was not outside of the realm of possibility, their ambitions for such a facility had been made known - but the Chinese had been unusually public in their space endeavors, and very little chatter circulated around the internet. NROL-68, a KH-11 KENNEN, was soon assigned the task of imaging the spacecraft on-orbit in order to learn more, and after a few weeks of phasing, completed its pass. It revealed a spacecraft much like the DOS modules found on Zarya, albeit with much newer construction. New, roll-out solar arrays and other upgrades could be made out, but what was most shocking was the aft of the spacecraft - a truss segment, or the start of one. The station would sit, untouched in orbit for many weeks before yet another new heavy lift vehicle would lift off, casting off its boosters and fairing all the same. Once again, the eyes of the world turned to see what great payload it carried. As the core stage drifted away, the payload would begin to unfold itself. From the sides of the spindly vehicle, two great arrays would stretch out, and after successful docking to the space station core, it became clear what their purpose was: an ion drive.
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Stellar chapter as ever - can't wait to see what China have up their sleeves with this ion drive - hoping for some BEO shenanigans
They're ramping up to something big, I can tell you that much - any guesses where we might be headed?
I'd say lunar mission first, then potentially a Mars mission to follow? Maybe Ceres to spice things up a little?