Let There Be Fire

Prologue: An Ember Is Born
  • Alright! Hello! The following is the hyper-evolved headcanon for a replica shuttle program I started work on 4-5-ish years ago in KSP that I realized about 3 months ago I could turn into an objectively banger alternate history with a strangely low amount of effort. That being said, I have 3 disclaimers first and you could probably infer most of them from that opening sentence:

    1. I have no experience whatsoever in writing stories, so except for some outside help, this may not be the most well written, so please bear with me a little bit. I’m not asking for complete excusal if I completely mess it up, this should be at least somewhat readable, just know there will most likely be a visible lack of experience.

    2. I am also very much so using this as an excuse to learn more about spaceflight in general because, for some infernal reason, I can not bring myself to read a 171 page paper on what you can do with a shuttle external tank under normal circumstances. But, if I have even one minor practical reason to do so, it will be done in a week. So resultantly, there may be a few things that aren’t exactly feasible. I aim to improve as I go and learn, but especially at the start some things might be a bit sketchy.

    3. At the end of the day, this is more about a story. I hope to write a story of what could be done with the extreme versatility of a space shuttle-like vehicle. And my specialty is more mission planning than number crunching, so reason may get thrown out a window every now and then, hopefully rarely though.

    (Additional disclaimer for this prologue exclusively, I am not good at all with space politics so if it looks like I’m cutting corners this chapter (?), it’s because I absolutely am, but I think it’s important to explain the start of this story from here and not just go, “suddenly rockets!” and call it a weekend)

    In summary, please excuse me somewhat if it’s not the best writing in history (alternate or not), or if some things aren't to the proverbial “T” on realism. Also, I hope to post on a semi-regular basis, under extremely ideal circumstances once a week, but most likely once every two weeks. This is one of a few hobbies I want to keep up with, so depending on my involvement in those, writing on this may happen faster or slower on some weeks. In any case, enjoy the prologue of “Let There Be Fire”:


    Prologue: An Ember is Born

    “Let's be blunt and get to it, the shuttle is not working nearly as well as any of us would have hoped. Unless anyone has another reason they wish to put on the record, I believe we’re all fairly confident that the principal issue is a blatant lack of purpose. Now, the question we want to ask in this hearing is not so much ‘What more can the STS program do?’, but ‘Where can we go from here?’” stated Representative Jack Harrison in his opening remarks for the Committee on Science, Space, and Technology’s hearing on the otherwise calm morning of March 7, 2005. This whole hearing burned, both for the other Representatives and the NASA personnel present. A program so long running, so promising, so expensive. A lot had come out of the program, to be certain. The ISS and Hubble, among other things, were no small advancements by any means, but the shuttle, as it stood, could not go much farther in its current, deteriorating state. It was becoming more and more expensive, with contractor after contractor going under. Even with all its potential and capability, it's time was drawing to an end.

    Both parties showed up knowing this hearing would likely mark the beginning of the end for the STS program; this had, effectively, already been decided. To add a measure of certainty, the hearing opened with a discussion of prepared possible expansions of the existing program. This was done to ensure that all possible paths had been considered and subsequently proved impractical. After about one-and-a-half hours of debate, no viable solutions surfaced, as expected, and the hearing progressed to the next phase. “What now?” Harrison again spoke, “We, of course, do not intend to answer this question here and now. It is this committee’s intention to create a sub-committee to assist in the investigation of possible new programs. I’d like to specify, not just new programs with LEO access only, we shot ourselves in that foot before, we want Lunar access and a sustainable path forward. Ideally, these programs would be STS-derived or adjacent, but other proposals will be considered for due diligence. We believe that STS was, and still is, a solid platform and that the Congress in charge at the time of STS’s creation did not allow for its full potential to be reached. Resultantly, we would like to pursue STS derived alternatives to both take advantage of this unused potential and save unnecessary expense. We realize, of course, no matter what path forward is chosen, this will by no means be either “cheap” or “easy”. We learned what happens when we try to make it that way and we are prepared to do what should have been done back in the 70’s, but we feel derivatives will still dampen the cost as well as save time.”

    The hearing went on to discuss the specifics of the sub-committee. It would be composed of members selected by the committee and would supervise groups formed by combined teams from various industry partners; NASA, Boeing, Northrop Grumman, Lockheed Martin, etc. A deadline for proposals was also given, twenty months. The groups would effectively have free reign to design as they pleased, as there would be little (if any) hardware involved. The goal of the investigation period would be to study as many paths as possible, and hopefully converge into a few distinct proposals by the deadline. These last remaining proposals should be in depth plans as hardware was not yet necessary. With all relevant matters discussed, Harrison gave a summary to ensure understanding between both those present and the public and ended with the remark, “Our shadow has been absent from the Moon for over thirty years, it’s time we go back to do more than just put on a show. Let’s get to work.”

    After almost a year of investigation, with everything from air-launched shuttles to resurrecting the Saturn V, two programs emerged on top, the Exploration Systems Architecture Study (eventually becoming Constellation and further reduced to CxP) and the Evolved Space Transportation System (E-STS). As hoped, the focus was now almost completely on these two programs. Constellation focused more on the immediate creation of MTV’s for Lunar use later expanding on to Mars. Meanwhile, E-STS focused on a rapid Lunar return with an immensely flexible design which would then be able to produce an MTV down the road with little alteration. The program’s principle launcher would involve a modernized and evolved, “Lunar capable” version of the “stretched orbiter” derivative of the Space Shuttle temporarily called “Spacehawk” (soon changed to Phoenix), a reusable powered external tank known to the program as the Universal Core Stage (UCS), and new recoverable Liquid Rocket Boosters (LRB’s).

    The program would feature a new version of the RS-25, the RS-25E, incorporating lessons learned from the previous versions and adding in-flight relight capability. Phoenix would be designed to handle the rigors of Lunar sorties. Such as upgraded Environmental Control and Life Support (ECLS), such as a built in Extended Duration Orbiter (EDO) pallet to last the longer flight durations.Other upgrades included; new capability for cryogenic fueling in the payload bay through the orbiter, upgraded radiation protection, a solar-battery based power system instead of fuel cells, and so on. There would also be an added set of drop tanks that would keep the OMS pods fed for most of the Lunar flights, the tanks would be carried out of Lunar orbit when depleted and discarded on a reentry trajectory after the departure from the Moon. The new orbiter would also involve an even more modular payload bay than its predecessor for the ability to rapidly handle new missions previously unexpected as well as a highly flexible and rapid launch cadence. The heat tiles would change in shape to hexagonal to allow for one uniform model of tile to cover most of the orbiter’s underside, this would allow for easy servicing of the heat shield both between flights as well as potentially on orbit, if absolutely necessary. Additionally the previously used reinforced carbon-carbon, was to potentially be replaced by a new type of tile, TUFROC, if the technology could be sufficiently proven before the first orbital flight test. This looked to be doubtful and the E-STS team decided it would not be a good idea to rush such a critical tile for both the obvious reasons of safety and because the program’s selection was far from guaranteed at this stage. This in mind, the vehicle was designed instead with the old RCC, however, it would have a thin tile layer below the gap behind the RCC, the goal of this layer would hopefully buy the orbiter enough time to survive re-entry, albeit with extreme damage, should damage be present in the RCC.

    With the replacement of the fuel cells with batteries, as well as other modernization/minimizing upgrades, the spacecraft was able to support the addition of a small hydro-lox tank set, referred to as the “Abort Tank” which served as an intermediary buffer between the incoming fuel from the UCS and the orbiter’s main engines. This tank would allow all three main engines to remain firing for up to six seconds at typical flight throttle when separated from the UCS, however, most aborts would involve both a lower throttle setting and shutting down either the center engine or the lower two, depending on the center of mass’s location. The new abort method would allow not only safe and stable separations from the core stage during ascent, a substantial jump from the systems precursor, but it even allowed the potential for a pad abort and a drastically expanded abort-to-orbit (ATO) window in most flights.

    The UCS would consist of a standard Shuttle external tank as a base with an engine section containing seven RS-25E’s (six in a ring with one in the center). An upgraded spray-on foam insulation (SOFI) would be utilized and covered with a protective layer of paint to minimize (if not eliminate) fracturing, even in vacuum. At this point, two versions had been explored, UCS Block 1 would be an “expendable” variant developed before reuse was considered possible, which would later be intended to be readily converted and used as a wet workshop or any other altered variant. The UCS Block 2 would feature a method of reuse involving a once-around orbit (with an initial adjustment burn in the case of higher energy trajectories). Then, utilizing four flaps which would unfold during the once-around return orbit, the vessel would execute a Shuttle-like forward-facing reentry, pitching up slowly until reaching a near-vertical attitude and a stall condition just east of the Kennedy Space Center. The UCS would then fall engine-first back toward its landing site using body lift to fly back from its overshoot. Upon reaching the landing site (a concrete pad located on the grounds of the LC-39 pads) the center with two outer ring engines, all in a line, would reignite to shed remaining speed. The center engine would then be shut down upon reaching a hover. The UCS would then translate, as needed, and extend its six landing legs (normally stowed inside the engine bay) to reach its landing pad and slowly set down. To facilitate these extra burns, a smaller set of cylindrical fuel tanks would be added. These tanks would be located at the top of the hydrogen tank up against the tank wall closest to the heatshield to preserve balance and add stability during reentry. The same tiles used on Phoenix would also be used to protect the windward side of the UCS.

    The LRB’s were mostly a clean sheet design, while liquid boosters were considered for STS, these would instead use a proposed engine from Pratt & Whitney Rocketdyne called Cobra, this engine ticked every box of the programs need for booster engines; rapidly reusable, strong, and reasonably efficient. Issues arose rapidly with the recovery plan, however, which was initially near-identical to the old SRB’s the Shuttle used, involving parachuting the whole booster into the water. The first problem was weight, the engine and tanks were too heavy to reasonably set down together in the ocean without substantial damage, especially to the fragile Cobra. The second was only slightly more pressing, even if the booster could be landed in one piece, the tail heavy configuration would cause the engine to become partially, if not completely, submerged. Both problems would cause immense damage to both the engines and their tankage. After exploring various options ranging everywhere from folded wings for fly back (similar to the Russian “Energia II” boosters) all the way to their own propulsive landings with secondary engines. Eventually, the relatively simple decision was made that, if the booster could not be landed in the ocean in one piece, land it in two. This led to a design involving an additional separation event after being released from the UCS on ascent where the tankage of the booster would jettison the engine unit (EU). The components would deploy their own droge and main chutes and the EU would then inflate a raft-like structure to keep the engine dry after splashing down, engine-up. Meanwhile, the tankage would splashdown horizontally, similar to the original plan, this time including valves to seal the tanks as well as secondary inflatable seals inside the fuel lines in case of a valve failure. Also protecting the tankage would be the same SOFI utilized by the UCS. Both tankage and EU would be fished out of the ocean with the assistance of two cranes aboard an ocean barge.

    The program would also include other systems, such as a series of notional upper stages derived from the Delta Cryogenic Second Stage (DCSS). These stages would involve a new engine also being heavily investigated by Constellation, the J2-X. In line with the naming of Phoenix, these stages would be named Firelight and be ordered by the stage’s hydrogen tank diameter; 4.2m, 6.3m, and 8.4m. Firelight 4 would use one J2-X, Firelight 6 would use two, and 8 would use four. Firelight 4 would typically be similar in operation to the Centaur-Shuttle of old. All of the Firelights could be used as upper stages of a modular launcher temporarily called the Universal Core Stage Launch Vehicle (UCS-LV) which would be comprised of a UCS, two to eight LRB’s, and the notional upper stages as needed.

    For initial Lunar landings, a derivative of the Firelight 4 stage was studied as a single-stage, dual-axis lander design involving the modified upper stage with an alternative design of an Orion pressure vessel on top, reduced from Constellations proposal to fit in the orbiter’s payload bay and a cylindrical compartment located behind the pressure vessel for abort motors and various commodities. The lander would be fueled before launch from LC-39 and topped off by additional fuel stored in the abort tank fed through a strongback that cradles the lander stage during flight and deployment (normally the abort tank would be emptied after ascent). This version of Orion would not be capable of an Earth return, but would be capable of an abort to Lunar orbit where the crew would be recovered by the Phoenix that deployed the lander, or another Phoenix depending on the scenario. This, temporary, but direct approach would allow a rapid return to the Lunar surface until the program could shift to using transfer vehicles for practice before moving to farther destinations such as Mars.

    So far both programs were making great progress. E-STS was becoming the popular option among the general public, with its continuation of the shuttle design which had inspired the world for so many years and adding full reusability on top of it. This newfound popularity eventually gave the program its new name via one of the regular update press conferences. E-STS was jokingly given the name “Let There Be Fire” by the program’s lead, Chris Stryker, in reference to its now definitively chaotic booster jettison involving two separator motors per booster which were expected to effectively occlude the entire vehicle for a moment in their plumes. The name was later coined by the media, and eventually by NASA itself, as the program’s name outside of most official documents and abbreviated to LTBF.

    In an effort to gain a head start, since both leading proposals included use of the J2-X, a contract was awarded to P&W Rocketdyne for the engine’s development on February 7, 2006, also tagged onto this contract was funding for a preliminary design study for the Cobra engine. Cobra had lagged behind a bit in its timeline, but this was to be expected as it was a clean-sheet design. The new booster engine was expected to take its first breaths within a year of the selection of a program by the Congressional committee. This, of course, would depend on LTBF winning out, becoming another reason for the post-decision estimate.

    As both proposals began to close in on more realistic designs, the initiative gained a massive surge in popularity. Both programs focused on not only Lunar returns, but transfer vehicle designs were beginning to properly materialize (especially in CxP), which gave a grand image of hope to both the United States and the rest of the world. We weren’t just going back to the Moon, that would only be the beginning. We we’re gunning for Mars and this time it was real, no more overly-optimistic proposals, the funding was on the table and real progress was ready to be made. These Mars Transfer Vehicles (MTV’s) differed little in concept between programs. Constellation aimed to utilize a MTV comprised out of specialized modules and stages launched aboard Ares V. Meanwhile, LTBF believed it would be possible to assemble a MTV from more “off-the-shelf” components from elsewhere in the program, such as a propulsion stage made from a spent UCS at the back. Also involved would be an inflatable habitation module up front, and the modules would be separated by a drop tank and truss structure, though Stryker had gone on record in one press conference by saying the UCS might be more useful to the MTV’s construction than previously thought.

    Twenty months finally came and went, and the deadline arrived. The committee reconvened along with NASA officials and members from both the Constellation and LTBF teams. The ensuing discussion was long and grueling. Both programs wound up being very similar, with the only real difference being launch vehicles and order of operations. Constellation would pursue MTV’s right out of the gate and used non-reusable Shuttle-derived launch vehicles. Meanwhile, LTBF would pursue Lunar surface access in the fastest and safest way possible by bypassing the MTV entirely for the initial series of landings, instead opting to use the program’s principle lifter, Phoenix. This approach also bought the MTV more development time, which included plenty of time to learn the in’s and out’s of the program’s various systems before committing to a design. This possibility was a major advantage for LTBF since its MTV’s was expecting to incorporate existing program components, meaning that this time to get familiar with said components would result in a much more “understood” (and, perhaps, better overall) MTV in the end. This is in contrast to the Constellation approach which would create a MTV with little experimental knowledge about its true limits/capabilities. The modular MTV proposal also rang bells for Congress, the reuse of already developed components would drop the price drastically during program operation and enable easy and sustainable exploration to boot. LTBF also allowed the launch of both crew and Lunar lander (as well as other cargo) on one reusable vehicle which beat out Constellation’s use of separate rockets for each purpose. In the end, both programs eventually landed close to each other as far as price was concerned, LTBF would be drastically more expensive in development, but would cost substantially less to operate and iterate on. Meanwhile, Constellation would do the opposite, with a more modest (relatively) start, but costly later development in expansion of its capability.

    Days of back-and-forth later, on January 15, 2007, the decision was made, Let There Be Fire would be NASA’s next pursuit. The committee arrived at the decision stating that LTBF offered a more realistic schedule for returning human presence to the Moon, skipping the complications of an early designed MTV without removing it from the program’s sights. The program’s flexibility was also highly valued, the program could go any direction it wanted and already have the capability to do so. Also of interest was the system’s ability to simply “get up and go” with the program’s leaders firmly believing a full Phoenix stack could go from its “idle” configuration, to launch in under just 24 hours, vastly increasing the possibility to fly rescue missions without much disruption if they were ever needed. All things considered, LTBF was deemed better in both the long and short terms.

    The next step for the program would be to acquire funding, which would be no small hurdle on its own. With the decision made though, a funding bill was drafted and put before Congress. In the meantime, the LTBF proposal team was re-assigned to handle the operation of the program moving forward and NASA was given the go ahead to start work on major hardware, such as the Cobra engine, preparations for orbiter construction in Palmdale, and some rearrangement of the Michaud facility in Louisiana. With the decision made, primary contracts started to become finalized; Boeing would provide both the orbiter and the UCS as well as LRB tankage. The new joint venture between Boeing and Lockheed Martin, United Launch Alliance (ULA), being the new operators of the Delta IV, would advance the DCSS into the Firelight stages. Zodiac, a company specializing in dinghies and inflatable life rafts would handle the reuse system for the Cobra engines, utilizing JPL for consultation, continuing from their own work with the inflatable landing hardware of the Spirit and Opportunity rovers. Finally, P&W Rocketdyne would handle most of the propulsion. With this last step, everything was finally coming together and with the program finally beginning to get traction, the dream was alive once more.
     
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    Chapter 1: The Gauntlet
  • Happy Friday! With the prologue out the door, I’m back and ready to get rolling with Chapter 1 of this chaos, which may accidentally feel like “Prologue, Part 2”, sorry about that, there’s just a lot of setup to do before the first orbital flight, so bear with these first three-ish chapters, Chapter 2 should be a break from the more monotonous testing, though, so stick around for that, hopefully next week. Two things I want to mention beforehand that I should have specified last week: First, I am not very familiar, at all, with people in history and do not wish to spend hours digging for the perfect astronaut for a given mission or whatever other occasion I may need someone for, also the timeline repercussions for certain people, etc. So names for the most part are (A) randomly generated because I am bad at coming up with people names or (B) I actually did manage to come up with a name, so if I somehow stubble into a real person, whoops, it’s not intentional (unless I mention otherwise, of course). Second, I wanted to clarify on timings for these chapters, I am currently 3-4 chapters ahead in writing and I intend to stay there if I can, those chapters are partially backlog, incase I get busy with something like college at the end of the summer or something, but I also go back and fix things as I’m writing future chapters and 3-4 seems to be the sweet-spot for getting it right enough that I don’t need to go back and correct anymore. In your case all that will mean is that, if I can finish a future chapter/big interlude every week, I will post every week. Or two weeks if a new chapter takes me that long, but I’ll try to start digging into the backlog if it’s the third week and I haven’t posted. Anywho, a lot of thanks to defconh3ck for a lot of guidance with this chapter, as with the prologue, and everything really, I should have said that last week, and I still feel bad about forgetting that, I got ahead of myself trying to get this going. Anywho again, time to get this chapter going:

    Chapter 1: The Gauntlet

    The dawn of a new era had arrived, Let There Be Fire had achieved selection and subsequent funding, the stage had been set. Now came the hardest part, to take the so far conceptual foundation and get hardware on the pad. Fortunately for the LTBF, most of its hardware existed or had already been studied extensively during the STS program, specifically, in the case of the stretched orbiter, which Phoenix was an advanced version of. Most changes to the orbiter were small and, overall, relatively straight forward. Resultantly, the Phoenix would inherit most of the stretched orbiter’s components, which subsequently inherited the Space Shuttle’s components. This included identical components such as the speedbrakes, landing gear, hydraulics for the elevons (as well as the elevons themselves), etc. This came as a massive cost saving point for the program, however it wasn’t so straight forward. The alterations to the stretched orbiter came with added weight, on top of this the orbiter was projected to have a higher down-mass limit than the Shuttle from its greater lift. Both added weight issues led to internal concern that the old Shuttle’s aft gear might not be good enough, after plenty of analysis, the team placed over the gear came to the conclusion the gear should work, though the safety margin was thinner than it had been for the Shuttle. Pressing to save money where reasonably possible, the decision was made to start working with the old gear for the ALT’s and start making parts, though a few in the program’s management were somewhat skeptical of the decision. After the ALT’s, NASA would see the results and determine whether or not a change was necessary prior to orbital flight.

    The design had effectively been finalized during the concept phase and Boeing had no delay in getting their end rolling, eager to build their first orbiters since their acquisition of the Shuttle from Rockwell International. Construction started on the first test article, Kite, rather quickly in March of 2007. The first orbital Phoenix, Voyager, was intent on starting about one to two months later. Meanwhile, parts would begin to show up for the second flight orbiter, Drifter. Over in Louisiana, Boeing was also prepping Michoud for some new business, the UCS and its companion LRB’s, which would start production not long after the orbiters in Palmdale. With LTBF, things would be a little different for the facility. The program’s main launcher was, ideally, fully reusable and consequently, Michoud would not need to manufacture tankage at the rate of ET’s for the STS program. Instead, Michoud would serve a myriad of purposes to the program. Of course, it would still produce the UCS, but it would also oversee Firelight production and operate as a “service station” of sorts for any modifications or repairs for the UCS and LRB’s too large to undergo at the KSC. Additionally, since the facility had ample space to store large sections of tankage, ground testing for a “wet workshop” capability expansion of the Block 1 UCS would be performed there as well.
    Over in Florida, the STS program was finally staring its retirement in the face. The date had not been officially set yet, but in June, 2007 the program had been given approval to fly until LTBF was ready to take over the reins. A portion of the remaining missions would involve various tests in preparation for the new program, the most important of which was the new avionics. The new orbiter would need to be autonomous to facilitate evolution without fear of injuring crews, or worse. The flight computers for Phoenix would be placed on the orbiter in parallel to the normal ones so the orbiter could operate on either. Testing would still see crews on the orbiters, but would include autonomous orbital maneuvering and docking/proximity operations with the ISS. This testing would not extend to atmospheric flight as the two vehicles, while similar, would be too different aerodynamically to gain any useful data for entry, descent, and landing (EDL). There also existed safety concerns over using the new system in such a critical situation with crew onboard. The STS program would also see small usage of the new spray-on foam insulation (SOFI) developed for the UCS, patches of the new foam would be applied on the far side of the tank from the orbiter and on the aft of the ET to minimize risk of impact damage should the foam fail.

    Kennedy was also seeing new infrastructure work in preparation for LTBF, such as land clearing for what would eventually be the Final Processing Facilities (FPF’s), a structure in which the full Phoenix stack would be stored horizontally in an “idle” state and payload could be integrated on a strongback which would be picked up by one of two initial rail-based transporters. This system would resemble the transporters used by the USSR for the Energia-Buran during the Cold War. The Crawlerway was also in the process of having its centerline gap filled with gravel in preparation to lay track to LC-39 to support the new transporters. Meanwhile, back at the VAB, a Shuttle mobile launcher platform (MLP) was being converted to handle the vertical configuration of the stack in order to accommodate vertical payload integration and the UCS-LV. Highbay 2 was also being converted to handle the new vehicles.

    Meanwhile back west, Stennis was preparing for a flurry of its own activity. The combined B-1 and B-2 test stands were preparing to handle static firings of various lengths. B-1 would handle both the orbiter and LRB’s which would be attached to a central truss structure that would have each components’ respective UCS attachment points in the correct location. B-2 on the other hand, would prepare for the inverse, with mounting points for the UCS. This set up would allow static fire conditions almost, if not completely, up to full throttle in as similar to flight conditions as possible without overloading the test structure and creating a premature “first flight”. Construction was also underway for a new vacuum test stand for the J-2X, test stand A-3, which started construction back in May of 2006 and was expected to be ready for firings in 2011.

    After a few years of construction, design, and component testing, testing began to finally warm up. The booster and core stage tankage had undergone pressure testing, and STS had validated many components, but now it was time for the program to start living up to its namesake. Leading the pack was the J-2X, its development was progressing nicely with the only snag being the test stand. This didn’t stop the engine, however, it proceeded with a gas generator hot-fire test in May of 2010. This test went fantastically well and would be followed by more tests as P&W Rocketdyne eagerly awaited the completion of the A-3 test stand.

    While STS proved systems in flight, the workhorse RS-25D also powered onward to the upcoming version, the RS-25E, gaining the intermediary notation RS-25DE for the campaign. The new version would feature various modest improvements, better thrust, faster start-up, better reusability, and more. The A-1 test stand hosted the esteemed engine in its program to test components for its successor. Over the course of the upgrade program the engine was expected to reach up to 50,000 seconds of combined firing time totalling for almost 100 firings in the runup to the new engine. This goal was beginning to look realistic too, with the engine averaging a static firing about every other week. Testing was going very well, with the only major failure occurring in early July, when a new injector head had been installed for review. The engine made it 236 seconds before the injector broke free and was ejected from the chamber, taking the throat and nozzle with it. Combustion rapidly made its way upstream causing what was left of the powerhead to shatter, throwing components in every direction. Fortunately, with how shredded the components were they posed little damage to the A-1 test stand and testing would resume two weeks later, albeit with a few new scorch marks. The injector went back to the drawing board while other components progressed.

    Down the river, Michoud was beginning to hit its stride, producing the first set of ground test article boosters for pressure testing and static firings once the engines became ready. The first boosters belonged to the Earthbound group and were named after earthly seas, much like their successors would be named after celestial "bodies of water"; Bering, Weddell, Flores, and Cooperation. The last LRB’s name was assigned after many other agencies abroad expressed an interest in the new program, such as ESA, who had played a large role throughout STS. Post construction, the new boosters were rolled out into the open for the first time, a short parade accompanied the boosters to one of the two barges NASA had procured for ocean recovery and transport of the new components. From there it took the short trip upstream to Stennis where they were offloaded and immediately began preparations for their testing campaign. For the boosters, this process would be a bit dragged out. Not only were they entirely new systems, which never had any involvement with the STS program, with exception of tooling, their engines were also still a while out in their own development.

    That wasn’t all Michoud had in the works, though. Just a few months after the LRB’s made their debut, the first UCS, Ursa. While she was only a Block 1 core stage, with no reuse hardware, she was met with no shortage of enthusiasm. Ursa had already been outfitted with her seven RS-25D’s for testing while she awaited her new engines. The massive core would follow the trail of the LRB’s loading onto the Pegasus barge from the STS program and traveling to Stennis. From there, Ursa was then hoisted up and into place on the B-2 test stand. From there, it would undergo a series of pressure tests alongside the LRB’s, which had gotten a head start. When testing proceeded as hoped, Ursa was expected to fire up the center of her seven main engines for the first time in January. While this would be using the older engines, it would be a critical test of the stage’s plumbing and, more importantly, the structural capability of the engine bay. This bay had been designed to redirect thrust forces into the hydrogen tank walls, avoiding the bulkhead and minimizing compression of the tank. The static fire proceeded wonderfully and was soon followed by two, three, five, then seven engine static fires. Once the stage had proved her worth, the next milestone was lined up for March, involving more single engine firings and ramping up to seven again. This time, however, there would be fuel entering and/or leaving the UCS as it fired to simulate flight conditions as fuel would enter from the LRB’s and depart to the orbiter. As Ursa continued to perform as hoped, the tests would become more and more ambitious and aimed to culminate in a full duration static fire in December. But Ursa would have to wait for another milestone to pass. Kite was nearing completion and slated to spread her wings for her first captive and free flight tests with the aid of a modified C-5 Galaxy in White Sands, New Mexico in the coming months.
     
    Chapter 2: A Reckoning
  • Not a whole lot to mention before this week's chapter, other than I'll hopefully be posting a couple sketches I did for this chapter. As always, thanks to defconh3ck for the help, enjoy the chapter and good luck:

    Let There Be Fire, Chapter 2: A Reckoning

    Spring had finally arrived in April of 2011 and with it came the first of a new era. After four years of work Kite was finally ready to roll out into the California sun. The doors of the hangar Kite and her orbital sister, Voyager, had been sheltered in opened and Kite was rolled out to meet an eager crowd. The sight of the new test article was awe-inspiring on its own, but the crowd was just as excited for the small glimpses of Voyager, still shrouded by various work platforms. Kite was rolled behind a temporary stage that had been erected for the ceremony. Among the attendees were representatives from Boeing, NASA, and Congress all eager to see the fruits of their labor. Other prospective international partners were present as well, looking on in awe of what the future might hold for them and a possible partnership with such a system. In addition to the massive stretched orbiter, a test fired RS-25DE and a fit check Cobra made an appearance next to Kite. The orbiter towered over the stage and the crowd gathered around. Once everyone had settled down, Representative Harrison approached the podium and thanked all parties involved with Kite’s construction, complimenting them on the vessel’s timely completion. Kite was still only a flight test article, but she was far different from the Enterprise of old. Kite was much closer to an orbit-capable vessel. She was eventually intended to have everything short of a heat shield, though she was a little more bare internally at the moment. The ceremony was relatively short and the attendees were allowed to walk around Kite and see the monstrous vessel up close. After a few hours the crowd had left and the orbiter was rolled back inside to await her ride to Edwards the next day.

    The next morning, Kite rolled out into the rising sun sat atop a special heavy transport trailer, much like the one Enterprise rode on a near-identical trip, and was accompanied by a police escort to facilitate the “rolling roadblock” that Kite would create. Kite arrived at the Armstrong Flight Research Center in the afternoon and was immediately swarmed with activity. Edwards had been waiting intently for the new orbiter for weeks, a maintenance bay had been prepared and two modified C-5 Galaxy Shuttle Carrier Aircrafts had already undergone solo flight tests of their own. The first C-5 SCA, NASA 944, was now being readied for her first integration with Kite. The new SCA’s had been pulled from a boneyard and repaired on site by Lockheed, then flown back to the factory in Marietta, Georgia to undergo retrofitting. 944 alone, among other improvements, received a new dual tail design, similar in appearance to that of the An-225, to remove the vertical stabilizer from behind the orbiter to both improve clearance during release of Kite for free flight tests and improve control during flight while carrying the orbiter. Now in California, 944 was ready to assist the Phoenix fleet’s first flight. 988 was retrofitted in a similar manner to 944, except for the dual tail. 988’s design remained similar in appearance to the previously studied C-5 SCA for the Space Shuttle. The intent was for the dual tail to be the final design, but NASA did not wish to incur any delays to Kite’s flight test campaign should the new tail design have its own issues.

    The flight test campaign schedule was set to start fast with the taxi test happening less than a week after arrival. 944, crowned with a Phoenix for the first time, rolled out from under the mate-demate device and made her way to Edwards AFB’s runway 22L and flared her engines. The two giants rolled down the runway for the first run, only getting up to 64 knots before slowing back down and returning to the start of the runway. After crews had verified that both vehicles had behaved as expected, the pair once again moved onto the runway. This time the speed would reach almost 80 knots before once again slowing back down. Satisfied with their results, the crews brought the vehicles back to Armstrong and de-integrated the duo to inspect the aircrafts further before for the next step, captive flight tests .

    A week later, Kite and 944 rolled back to the mate-demate device and were joined and rolled to the runway again. Kite would remain uncrewed for this first captive flight test, with her telemetry being recorded both on the orbiter itself and through a set of cables to 944 as well as broadcast to ground crews. After loitering beside the runway to tend to a minor communication fault between Kite and ground links, 944 entered the runway, Kite resting eagerly on her shoulders. With a final approval, 944 ramped up her engines and released the brakes. The vessels once again raced down the runway, this time with no intention to stop. 944 left the runway and began her steady climb to the specified altitude for the test. Kite seemed unbothered by the rigors of flight and the orbiter appeared to be in perfect health. While in the air, numerous sensors poured data into the various destinations and Houston attempted to communicate with the vessel via TDRS. The communication testing was successful and Kite performed a variety of internal tasks at Houston’s command. Reaching the end of the first captive test, Kite remained in very good condition and 944 began the descent back to Edwards. 944 touched down and rolled down to a slow departure from the runway. Returning safely to Armstrong, Kite was again removed for inspection and to allow crew onboard for the next captive flight in a couple days.

    The next test would soon arrive and Kite would again sit atop 944 with Shuttle veterans Steve Morris and Sharon Kelly onboard to monitor the new vessel during the test flight. Ready at the runway, both 944 and Kite’s crews sounded off and soon began hurtling down the runway. 944 climbed to the testing altitude again and prepared to fly straight lines back and forth across the desert. This flight, Kite would begin to stretch her feathers a little. Kite, slowly at first, moved her flaps up and down while crews aboard both aircraft observed the effects. After a thorough checkout of Kite’s various control surfaces, including flaring the speedbrake, all reports were good. Flight commander, Steve Morris, would happily remark during one of the health checks, “She's doing just fine, I think we’d be ready to take off right now if Houston’d let us.” With all objectives met, 944 set back down and rolled back to Armstrong. The captive tests had all gone well, in some cases even exceeding expectations. Given this marvelous track record, NASA felt confident in continuing on to free flight tests. These tests would be uncrewed and would instead take place at the White Sands Missile Range in New Mexico, unlike her forebearer Enterprise, in order to utilize the more wide open desert to test Kite’s ability to autonomously guide herself. Additionally, the drogue chute would be unused in order to test the orbiter’s capability without it while the extra landing space was available.

    Twelve days later, 944 and Kite stacked and readied for their trek to New Mexico. Crowds had already begun to gather off to the side of the runway marked into the salt flat. The departure of the vessels would be a televised event which would follow Kite from Edwards to wheel stop at White Sands. The flight was relatively uneventful, Kite's autonomous systems were already active and gathering data, TDRS was getting good feedback from the orbiter as she awaited her first flight out on her own. Teams at Houston would monitor the flight as it progressed and the air in the control room was somewhere between confident and anxious. While the new orbiter had performed well in captive flights, the worrisome landing gear remained unproven in flight. A design carried over from the old orbiters, analysis had shown the gear should hold up fine. However, in a pre-flight press conference for the test, program lead, Stryker, had expressed concern over the legs and their significantly narrowed safety margin from the added weight of the Lunar-capable orbiters. Stryker also noted components of a larger set of gear were being tested incase replacement was necessary, but were not yet ready to be placed on any orbiters.

    Now approaching White Sands, 944 readied to make a practice pass over the runway to check that everything was looking good for a real separation. The crowds cheered as the still gray 944 passed overhead with a roar from her engines. 944 came back around with plenty of distance between her and the runway, the angle was off on purpose so Kite could have the chance to demonstrate banking maneuvers. Two NASA T-38’s now flanked the vessels in addition to the Gulfstream jet, who had been following the journey, which now backed away to make room for the newcomer T-38’s. The time was soon approaching and Kite’s onboard systems declared the orbiter was ready. With additional approval from 944 and Houston, as well as a declaration of calm winds, safety locks were released from the harness holding Kite to 944 and the cockpit crew of 944 checked alignment once more. Moments later the final hold-downs were released, Kite gently pulled up and away as 944 entered a slow dive. The words from the flight engineer of 944 echoed across the waiting crowd, “Release, release, release. Kite is away, thank you for flying NASA 944.” The vessels separated and 944 banked off to the left. Kite and her escorts flew straight and true towards the final approach waypoint. The orbiter glided fantastically through the desert air with all systems still holding a good report. The group crossed the waypoint for final approach and Kite banked right to make the final approach. To those watching from home and in the desert, the views were incredible, the stretched orbiter had managed to captivate the world in its few moments of free flight. Now approaching the runway, Kite pulled up and extended her landing gear. As she crossed 20 feet off the ground, a rogue burst of wind blasted the orbiter from her left. Kite leaned right and impacted hard on her aft-right landing gear. The added force of the hard touchdown shattered the gear and Kite continued to fall. The explosion of metal erupting from the gear caused the T-38’s and the Gulfstream to jump away from the collapsing vessel. Kite next slammed her right wing into the ground and the outer half of the wing instantly sheared off. The orbiter now rested on her aft-left and nose gear as well as what was left of the right wing. With the added friction of the metal frame grinding off into the sand, Kite rotated to slide left-wing-first down the runway. The orbiter screamed sideways down the runway leaving a scar in her wake. The aft-left gear raised off the ground as the orbiter leaned more and more on the fractured wing and air built up against the underside of her left wing. The nose gear’s steering bearing had broken free and the gear turned sideways to face the oncoming runway, eventually it caught the ground and was ripped out, damaging the gear bay door in the process. Now nearing a halt, the aft-left gear re-contacted the ground and snapped as the orbiter scraped to a halt. Detecting “wheel-stop” the now smoking Kite retracted her speedbrake and what was left of her flaps. With an eerie silence, the crowd which had scattered at the first sign of failure now stood in silence, as the future lay shattered in the sand.
     
    Chapter 3: Restoration
  • Sorry I'm late (?). I've spent a good part of this week planning for stuff later down the road, so unfortunately I haven't written as much as I probably should (yet). I've got enough written for next week's not-a-chapter-but-chapter-length post, but just as a heads up incase I can't do as much in the next week as I'd like, there may be a skip or some smaller fill-in in a couple weeks. Hopefully not, it should be fine, but just wanted to give a warning. As for this week, we've got more testing today and the aftermath of a botched ALT. As is tradition, thanks to defconh3ck for the help and on with the show:

    Let There Be Fire Chapter 3: Restoration

    Waiting emergency vehicles had already begun to rush to Kite’s side, firefighters immediately worked to determine the source of the smoke rising from what remained of the right wing and extinguish it. After some tense moments, the smoke stopped, the source appeared to be an electrical spark of some kind that caught hold of flammable material in the base of the wing. Soon after the fire was out, crews were allowed to approach the vehicle to inspect the damage. The crews began to pick through the debris trail littering the runway. Strips of metal and a scar carved into the runway lead all the way up to the battered orbiter. The damage on Kite was a bit more difficult to see, sand had been piled up against the fuselage as it slid down the runway. After some digging, crews managed to unearth the mangled edge of the wing’s base. Hydraulic lines were leaking, wires lay frayed and cut, the metal frame had been crushed and ground down, the first signs were not good. The source of the failure did not take long to determine as video had captured Kite suddenly lean with no apparent movement of her flaps. Sensors around the start of the runway also picked up the burst of wind, which lined up to be at the correct time. After the orbiter had been somewhat pulled out of the ground, deeper inspections of the fuselage would give immense relief to the crews as it appeared the main fuselage remained “high and dry”. The base of the shattered wing had held the main airframe away from the ground for most of the vehicle’s path. At the front, the nose gear and outer skin had held on long enough to spare the airframe from the fastest part of the slide. Intent on honoring a promise to allow crowds to see Kite up close after landing, Stryker gave the go ahead for observers to approach the shattered orbiter once emergency responders gave the all clear stating “Failure is nothing to hide. I made a promise and I’m not backing out of it now, even if that’s probably a better idea.” and later reassured the crowd saying, “This is a test campaign, if we haven’t broken anything, we aren’t doing it right. If that gear was ever going to break, I’m glad it was here and now while no one’s onboard and we can fix it without too many problems.” Inevitably, though, doubts arose rapidly over the program. If Kite, the relatively simple orbiter modification, had such a problem, what about the brand new vehicles at Stennis? A component of the RS-25DE shredded an engine and turned the A-1 test stand into an impromptu cannon, would Cobra even work?
    Over the next few days, Kite was picked up and debris was cleaned up and cataloged. Crews worked to remove what was left of both of Kite’s wings and cover the now exposed internals. Brief tests of the main fuselage’s integrity were conducted using the cranes present to load Kite back onto 944. After deeming Kite to still be in surprisingly good shape, the battered vessel was loaded back onto 944 for transport directly back to Palmdale for more in-depth inspection. The flight, while strange in nature, was uneventful. Kite and 944 reached their destination and parted ways for a while. 944 would return to Edwards for more testing of the new tailfins while Kite was inspected. Within a week and a half, NASA publicly announced a change of plans, Kite’s frame was thankfully still in good shape and the orbiter would be shipped to Stennis to join Ursa and the Earthbound boosters for joint testing instead of continuing ALT’s. The new plan would pick back up on the ALT’s once Kite was able to get new wings with the upgraded gear. Currently, Kite was planned to take to the sky again in mid-2012.
    In November of 2011, just a couple months after her brush with White Sands, Kite rolled back out to be joined with 944 with her wings still missing. Some temporary flight covers had been crafted and installed for the flight to the Kennedy Space Center where Kite would then be inspected again and loaded onto one of the waiting booster recovery barges and towed behind the freshly remodeled MV Freedom Star to Stennis. Kite would arrive to a bustling campus, the engines of LTBF were beginning to get on their feet with static firing tests beginning on Ursa in December and the Cobra engine was taking its first breaths, with a gas generator hot fire test in January of 2012. Meanwhile the RS-25E had “wrapped up” its development campaign and begun its dedicated static firing campaign which aimed to be just as rigorous as its development. The test campaign hit the floor running, now that the design had settled down engines would be fired more than once with no alterations, testing could progress much more frequently than before. With the new engines operable, Ursa and Kite ran parallel static fire campaigns with them on B-1 and B-2, respectively. Kite had been mounted to the same truss structure the LRB’s had been attached to in order to simulate the arrangement without the full thrust of the entire stack ripping the structure apart. Kite would fire first and as with all of the other major tests, the firing was televised and as the RS-25E’s roared to life, the commentator followed by saying, “Kite will not live in silence, let her voice be heard!”
    While the action at B-1 and B-2 was underway, the A-3 test stand had finished construction after a mountain of minor delays had pushed its completion back a year. The J-2X finally got its chance to fire in its entirety, roaring for 20 seconds in its first test in the new vacuum chamber. With this success, the tests would steadily increase to the same 500 second durations as the RS-25DE’s. Bringing up the rear of the static fire train was the Cobra, with its development finally reaching a soft end. The first test fire engine arrived in October and got to breath for the first time in November. The engine held up wonderfully for its inaugural run, some sensor irregularities arose but were easily sorted out as false data. After a review and replacement of faulty sensors testing proceeded and confidence in the new engine began to grow rapidly.
    It wouldn’t be long before Cobra was deemed ready for testing with the LRB’s. The B-1 test stand would host a wet dress rehearsal for the boosters going all the way up to just before engine start before proceeding to a short static fire in the next test in March of 2013. Afterwards, the boosters would fire several times for various durations, some tests included fuel drain tests to simulate the accompanying UCS. Finally, the decision was made to progress to joint firings involving Kite, Ursa, and the Earthbounds. A few more wet dress rehearsals and an automatic ignition abort originating from a RS-25E aboard Ursa with a limit set too conservatively went by, but eventually, in May, the B-1 and B-2 test stand showed the heart of Let There Be Fire alive and beating for the first time. The separated stack flared up to the lower bound of its expected flight throttle and progressed toward the maximum. After maintaining maximum expected thrust for 20 seconds, the behemoths wound down leaving a monsoon in their wake. All looked well and three weeks later, the engines were fired up again, this time for a full duration test involving simulated fill and drain operations for both systems. The test went without any major issue with the LRB’s shutting down right on cue and lighting up indicators to signal the electrical systems associated with the LRBs’ various separation events were operating. Kite-Ursa fired to their own cutoffs minutes later again giving green indicators in the control room signaling a good core separation command. The vehicles, now hissing as they detanked, had completed their static fire qualification campaign.
    Next up, Kite would take the reverse of her journey, barging back to the KSC, this time with the assistance of MV Liberty Star, and flying back to Palmdale. The California facility welcomed the orbiter and quickly got to work removing the protective covers over her wing connections and began attaching the new wings. The wings had not changed much in design, only adding new locking mechanisms for the new joint in the upgraded gear. The new gear would utilize similar components to the old gear, but would strengthen the main strut as well as add a second axle with necessary bracing and folding mechanisms. Voyager, now complete with the new landing gear and associated locking mechanisms, had been rolled into an adjacent hanger and was preparing to catch her flight to KSC aboard the second SCA, NASA 988, now back from Georgia with the new tail assembly installed, in the coming weeks. Drifter had taken up residence in Kite’s old spot in the assembly hangar and the frame had already taken shape. Kite’s new wings were installed at a truly rapid pace having been prepositioned on their assembly platforms ready to be installed as soon as Kite could be placed in the bay between them.
    With her new wings attached, Kite rolled out into the California sun again, in July of 2013, to join 944 once more. This test would be different, there would be a brief captive test circling around the Palmdale facility before heading off towards White Sands once more after the integrity of the wings had been confirmed. The greenlight was given and the pair broke their pattern and headed east. Once again a crowd had gathered, seeming no less adamant from Kite’s previous run. Again, the duo made their practice run over the marked stretch of the salt flat. Confidence seemed higher this time, both with NASA officials and the public. Over the course of development for the new gear, NASA had made sure to show plenty of footage of the gear tests. NASA even showed the new gear surviving an impact of near-equivalent magnitude to the one that had destroyed Kite’s gear last time. The transparency seemed to have worked, the public once more looked to Kite, flying aboard 944, over the desert in wonder. 944 circled back around, once again flanked by two T-38’s and the Gulfstream. As the time approached, the go ahead was given for safety lock release and soon, with a good report from Houston, 944, and the weather crew, Kite was released and rose once more from the falling C-5. 944 banked left and cleared the pack of aircraft now racing towards the runway. Kite once again soared beautifly, exceeding expectations just as she had before. On final approach, Kite once again nosed up and let go of her gear locks. The new gear fell into place and locked, just as hoped. Moments later, Kite softly touched down and ejected a cloud of dust as her wheels got up to speed. Again, foregoing the drogue chute, Kite steadily lowered her nose gear and made contact. Now resting safely on all gear the crowd erupted and Houston breathed a sigh of relief. The orbiter cruised to a halt about three-quarters of the way down the runway. Emergency vehicles again rushed to the side of the vessel still standing tall and proud. The automated system had done its job wonderfully and Kite was in remarkable shape, even with the standard laying on the floor. Remarks were again given to the crowds next to Kite, program lead Stryker announced that NASA now believed the program was finally almost ready, testing on all non-orbital fronts was almost complete with only one exception. The last step would be at Kennedy Space Center, where Voyager would arrive to join UCS Polaris and the Seabound boosters only days later to begin pre-flight testing. The last leg of testing was about to begin and Let There Be Fire would soon be ready to reach for the stars.
     
    Chapter 3-4 Interlude: The Rise of Aurora
  • Alright, today I bring you an slightly long interlude in place of a chapter to show you what's been cooking behind all the testing. Also, I've caught myself back up so chapters should keep coming out at the rate they have been for a moment or two, so next week you'll get the last chapter before orbit, I promise we're almost there. Thanks to defconh3ck, especially with this chapter, you'll see it in a moment, but for reference the "double barrel" didn't exist until two days ago and now does thanks to their guidance through all this. Anywho, have fun with this one, it's got some wild stuff.

    Chapter 3-4 Interlude: The Rise of Aurora

    Alongside the noise and fire of testing, just outside of the public’s fixation on the test program, progress was being made on the projects that would be serviced by the developing system. NASA was making progress lining out the first flights of two parallel mission campaigns. Program Test Campaign (PTC), for the test missions, and Universal Transport System (UTS), for the mainline missions. This split system arose out of a funding bill that aimed to dedicate funds for continued testing of the system and its components for any major concerns NASA, or other entities, may have. The first two flights would fall under this PTC designation as PTC-1 and PTC-2, with Voyager going on PTC-1 to LEO for an orbital free flight, briefly visiting the ISS for a couple days, and again on PTC-2 for a free flight around the Moon carrying a MPLM full of various experiments mostly geared towards the extreme environment of cislunar space. NASA had also set sights on a (somehow) more ambitious mission, an In Flight Abort test to demonstrate the capability of Phoenix to safely abort a launch and potentially still be mostly reusable.

    Also on the minds of mission planners was the consideration of large orbital projects, a consideration that had come up with about every system since the Mercury capsules. The rapid-launch capability of Phoenix, with multiple pads and the (soon coming) ability to clear the pad within even 24 hours of being called upon, would potentially allow for multiple orbiters to operate on the same mission on-orbit. This gave mission planners a very versatile mold to shape future missions with. That being said, some mission planners believed the system could do more than just orbit together. What was initially thrown out as a completely crack-pot idea, was later given a second look. What about launching multiple vehicles in a single window? It seemed to be an unprecedented option, but then again, so were the orbiters. The option to launch within moments of each other could streamline mission profiles as rendezvous would be nearly eliminated, adding back precious time to complete mission objectives. A study had started on these rather unique joint-missions, which soon gained them the codename “Starlight Brigades”.

    In another effort, NASA was starting to string together a path towards Mars, creating the Aurora sub-program and getting to work on a transfer vehicle. After long internal debate, the fog of concept work was starting to clear, and what stood there was a strange and truly massive vessel. It would be composed of converted Block-1 Universal Core Stages, mostly in a "double-barrel" configuration, and a full vehicle length truss “spine” structure that would attach to the tanks’ LRB hold-down points. The propulsion module would be two cores of the UCS-LV, with their LOX tanks removed and engines replaced on orbit by nuclear-thermal engines and carrying two “saddle-bag” utility modules each, one on either side. They would handle attitude control and smaller orbital adjustments and the modules would resemble the cargo modules of the old Shuttle-B concept and would, likewise, launch with the UCS. One set of modules would provide solar power to the gargantuan vessel while the others would house the thermal control systems to maintain the hydrogen propellant and the nuclear engines. Moving up the vessel, the in-line drop tanks would have their engines removed on orbit as well and supply fuel for part of the vessel's journey before being cast into solar orbit. Ahead of that would sit the crew module, which would be one UCS, again stripped of its engines on orbit, and converted into a wet-workshop using a “work shed” module positioned above the stage’s nose and launched in a fairing with the core. This forward module would later act as additional hab space and would host an airlock module, the docking tunnel for the Mars Crew Lander (MCL), and a, more interesting addition, an APAS docking port and structural bracing at the very front of the vessel to carry a new variant of Phoenix all the way to the red planet. This new variant was the Extreme Duration and Range Orbiter (EDRO) which came equipped with two new OMS pods outfitted with nuclear-thermal engines, LH2 drop tanks, an onboard ISS-like ECLS system, and other upgrades to aid deep space operation. This orbiter would carry a smaller hab section of its own, created in cooperation with ESA for their expertise in operating the SpaceLab system. This module would house an airlock and docking port, the latter of which would be near the center of mass of the orbiter to ease structural strain on the whole system. The orbiter would serve in a similar role to the Orion spacecraft for the Constellation program’s proposed MTV’s. It would function as a bridge, lifeboat, and additional hab space (most likely for crew quarters). A cargo only MTV was also being developed in parallel which would be identical except for the hab being replaced by one or two Heavy Cargo Landers and/or MCL’s. Their function would be a little different, they would follow a free return-style cycler orbit and would keep their drop tanks’ LOX section in order to fuel the last-mile delivery stages and landers before releasing them to capture into Martian orbit and join the crewed MTV or directly land on the surface.

    Untitled_35.png

    The initial MTV concepts; the final design, the initial design, and an alternate design that was ruled out in favor of the "Double Barrel" design


    These landers, for the most part, were a new addition, coming from the former Constellation team’s work, having come up with a lander design to be launched aboard their Ares V rocket. Utilizing the flexibility LTBF had been selected for, NASA quickly adopted and adapted the lander into the new program. Teams immediately got to work completing and altering the design to handle the somewhat different mission profile and to be launched aboard a new lifter, Leviathan. NASA had need of a new super-heavy lift vehicle not weighed down by the cumbersome Phoenix orbiters to deliver fuel and their heavy landers to the waiting MTV’s. UCS-LV hosted an immense number of possible configurations, but one that met NASA’s needs soon arose. The configuration would become the second named variant of UCS-LV, after Phoenix, and would be comprised of a UCS, eight LRB’s (two LRB groups), and a Firelight 8 upper stage. The power possessed by this variant was immense, sitting at one-and-a-half times the liftoff thrust of the Saturn V. To drive the idea home, NASA also began a small study for a new engine unit for the program’s LRB fleet which would host four RS-25E engines instead of the Cobras, nearly doubling the boosters’ thrust and raising the liftoff thrust to just over twice that of the Saturn V.

    Untitled_35.jpg

    The Heavy Cargo Lander carrying a proposed surface habitat.

    Of all these new additions, the most ambitious was the wet-workshop hab. It had been an interesting choice among other options like an inflatable hab or a more ISS-like modular section. This option, however, was seemingly the fastest. While other options would take potentially years in development and testing, this hab theoretically already existed, excepting the method of outfitting the tanks. NASA had theorized a method involving a polymer-type liner over the installed metal floors and tank walls, similar to that used in marine inflatables, that would allow easy installation of both the liner and mounting points for containers, workstations and other items that would need to be secured for the long trip. In order to resolve concerns and guide final design choices, a proposal was made to conduct several incremental tests starting with a long duration pressurized free-flight of a UCS core all the way up to adding a UCS hab as a potentially permanent expansion to the ISS.

    Needless to say, the program was beginning to turn heads everywhere and potential international partners began to pop up cautiously, but also eagerly. Canada would be first, with a proposed stronger version of the Canadarm system, which had been made for the Shuttle and augmented for Phoenix, as a robotic arm for the MTV’s to aid in inspection, EVA tasks, as well as the construction and maintenance of the MTV’s. Another prospective partner was Roscosmos, who seemed very eager to join the program, bringing multiple opportunities to the table. Their first proposal was a revival of the recent proposal of a small lifting-body crew vehicle, Kliper. Roscosmos sought funding aid for the vessel to advance their own crewed flight program and saw an opportunity to gain international support for the craft. They pitched the small vessel stating that it could act as a new lifeboat for the station and allow Phoenix to supply large crew rotations to the ISS and other possible projects without fear of leaving the massive orbiters wide open to micrometeorite or debris strikes during such a long stay. Their addition of the new lifeboat was readily welcomed by NASA as the Soyuz would simply not be a viable option to fill that role if they wished to pursue the mammoth expansion of the station.

    More importantly, as a shock to most, Roscosmos expressed an extreme interest in assisting with the nuclear engines for the MTV’s and EDRO system, citing their own experience in the subject. Congress would need a lot of convincing, but eventually work began on a nuclear cooperation agreement between the two nations. The joint endeavor would soon receive the Boreal Project moniker, after the great Boreal Forest that spanned the two superpowers and to honor the new engine’s precursor, Project Timberwind.

    Under the illumination of Aurora, NASA was now getting ready to bring the world along on a journey back to the moon on the wings of Phoenix, paving a path for larger vessels to send humans farther than ever before.
     
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    Chapter 4: Dream Again
  • OK, we're early today, I probably won't be home for a while after work so I'm instead doing this on my phone from work. As a result, and for my own sanity, I'm going to come back to fix things and italicize vehicle names later because I don't have control-F. So, enjoy the last chapter before launch (there technically is one here, but you'll see) and thanks to defconh3k as always:

    Chapter 4: Dream Again

    With LTBF finally aiming its sights skyward, Kennedy Space Center somehow became even more of a hive of activity. The horizontal transport system was taking shape and while not quite ready for modal testing, the two transporters were almost complete and still sat outside the nearly completed FPF buildings. Wide double rail paths now ran all the way along the inside of the Crawlerway and reinforced crossings had been constructed to allow the passage of the heavy Crawler transporters. This mass of activity was only heightened by the arrival of UCS Polaris and the Seabound boosters. The components would arrive together with Polaris riding inside the Pegasus barge towed behind MV Freedom Star and the boosters following behind onboard one of the recovery barges towed behind MV Liberty Star. The group was met by some of Port Canaveral’s emergency response vessels shortly before entering the port and the flanking vessels welcomed the space-bound vessels with their water cannons. The celebration of the group’s arrival did not end upon reaching Turning Basin, though, as NASA had allowed the public media partners to watch the arrival. Polaris would be unloaded first and slowly carried up towards the VAB and would stop short of the entrance to await the unloading of the boosters. Once Pegasus had been moved, the LRB’s were offloaded as well and joined Polaris at the VAB’s side entrance. After NASA and the media had gotten their images, the components were rolled inside to Highbay 4 for storage and pre-stacking processing and inspection.

    Not too far behind them, Voyager had rolled out at Palmdale less than a week after the successful second ALT attempt of Kite. The orbiter was met with even more enthusiasm than her test article predecessor, leaving aboard a freshly retrofitted NASA 988. This C-5 was originally similar to the base model utilized by the Air Force and was the standby in case 944’s new tail assembly gave trouble in its own test flights. After the assembly proved effective, 988 received her new tail as well and returned to California to meet Voyager. During the departure ceremony, once again the media looked not only at the completed Voyager, but past her into the busy assembly hangar. This time they would see a nearly-completed Drifter and a somewhat underway Wayfarer. After the ceremony, 988 and Voyager flew out flanked by the adjacent airbase’s F-16’s. Due to the high profile nature of the flight, multiple “shifts” of escorts would assist and document the pair in their journey across the country. Eventually, after an uneventful flight, the two great crafts touched down at the Shuttle Landing Facility, which had just finished receiving a fresh coat of paint in preparation for the wild cadence that awaited the Space Coast. After leaving the runway, cranes assisted Voyager off of 988. Later, this task would be handled by a retrofitted version of the existing mate-demate device (identical to the one used for Kite at Dryden), however, as STS was still flying, NASA decided not to build a new structure only for the old device to become useless once STS soon ceased operations.

    Now that all components had arrived, Polaris and the Seabound boosters came out of storage in Highbay 4 to meet the new orbiter at the front door. Another arrival event was held, this time with the full vehicle set for the first flight. The public was ecstatic, the first fully reusable rocket was together at last, all at the KSC. Once the vessels had their brief time in the spotlight, the vessels were rolled back inside for their final pre-assembly inspections. Stacking occurred rather quickly, aiming only to structurally complete the stack in order to run some modal testing by rolling the stack out and returning shortly after. After the bare-bones assembly had been completed, the stack crept out of Highbay 2 in a calm mid-August evening, hoping to catch the calm nighttime weather for the nearly half-a-day journey to LC-39B. The Voyager-Polaris stack and its Seabound tugs would not be alone in the roll-out, pausing as Endeavor on STS-141 rolled out just ahead of them, taking time for photos as they passed. The huge convoy consisting of Voyager-Polaris, STS-141, and all of the related support vehicles rolled out toward Complex 39 and the two vessels went their separate ways. STS-141 went straight on to LC-39A and Voyager-Polaris hung a left then a right on to LC-39B. In the late morning light, NASA sent out T-38’s to fly over and caught a marvelous photo of the two monumental vessels on their respective pads, but also something else. Groundwork could be seen in the background for a new member of the Complex 39 family, LC-39C, being built to assist the soon expected high flight rate of the LTBF program. All that existed of the new pad and the crawlerway extension so far was a flat patch of dirt where land had been cleared and leveled, but it was an immense sight of progress.

    After arrival at LC-39B, Voyager-Polaris would undergo a multitude of tests at the pad. Most notably, a test involving the recently retrofitted Rotating Service Structure (RSS), which had be upsized to accommodate the longer payload bay (rendering it incapable of servicing the old Shuttle in the process), would see the structure wrap around the orbiter to provide cleanroom access to Voyager’s bay. A simple boilerplate test structure, made to the rough size and shape of a typical payload, would be installed in the payload bay and the RSS would rotate away for a few days while teams kept a careful eye on the loaded structure. One of the two new Crew Access Arms (CAA’s) was rotated into place and was utilized to test crew ingress and a few simulated dry-dress rehearsal countdowns with the checklists. NASA astronauts John Bailey and Ann Moore were onboard Voyager for some of the tests. Soon the process was reversed and the boiler plate was removed. Eventually, the time came for STS-141’s launch into a late-summer night sky illuminating Voyager-Polaris and the fledgling LC-39C in golden light. This stay at the pad during the launch was partially a test as well, allowing observations of the stack’s ability to withstand parallel launch campaigns.

    After a brief look-over, Voyager-Polaris crawled back to Highbay 2 to complete assembly and further inspection in order to pursue a wet dress rehearsal. While not overwhelmingly necessary for the system in general after the Kite-Ursa tests at Stennis, this was a new stack with orbital capability and tile-covered vehicles and NASA wanted to ensure the new vessels were up to the task. This also gave KSC teams ample opportunity to run a non-altered countdown, unlike Kite-Ursa where an altered timeline was utilized to fit the unique circumstances. With the stack readied, it once again made way out to LC-39B. After the long trek, the system made it and the crawler departed. Within the week the first runs were underway, starting again with a dry dress rehearsal. After a couple successful dry runs, the time came to start loading propellant. The on-site tanks had been filled in the week ahead by the reestablished rail line to the pad and NASA cautiously began the first wet dress rehearsal. This run went fine until, at the T-3:55 point the following engine gimbal test, a valve in Voyager’s #1 engine registered as open, which was not only not supposed to be open, but this reading was not supported by surrounding sensors. The onboard system immediately threw a flag and, knowing it would continue to do so, mission controllers stood down from the attempt the address the issue along with a minor hydrogen leak that had developed in the attachment between the ML and the pad umbilical that would provide fuel, power, and data connections to both the ML and the eventual transporter-erector launch mounts. A week passed and the system had been given another lookover and the issue with the valve sensor had been corrected by replacing a loose telemetry cable. The hydrogen leak had been determined as well; it seemed that the transition from slow to fast fill had forced the connector open by a near-immeasurable amount, allowing hydrogen to seep out faster than expected. This was resolved by replacing the sealing ring and applying a temporary fix by bracing the connector more in the meantime while a more permanent solution was developed by the pad system's contractor.

    The second test ran all the way to the planned end point at T-11 seconds, just before the ROFI’s would start firing. Satisfied with their results, NASA brought the stack back to the VAB one last time to make final preparations for PTC-1, the first flight of LTBF. Late October rolled around and Voyager-Polaris made way for LC-39B once more. This time, all was in order for flight. NASA had planned a “quick trip around the block” for the mostly-autonomous first flight, stopping at the ISS for flight days 2 through 4 before departing for a several day free-flight, landing back at Edwards AFB on flight day 9. The weather looked clear in the coming week and NASA targeted October 29, 2013 hoping to reach the ISS just in time for Halloween.
     
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    Chapter 4-5 Interlude: Ascension
  • Ok, back again, got a little bit caught up in planning again, but I'm now back up to speed. Unfortunately, I didn't get back up to speed until yesterday, so today it'll be a reasonably sized interlude I was going to post earlier if I got caught up. I have a couple fun images to make up for it though, so today, you get to see the duality of my art capability with one that took me a week and another that took me five minutes and a post-it note. As is tradition, thanks to defconh3ck for keeping me doing things that are only mostly off the rails and enjoy the launch on PTC-1, the ascension of Phoenix:

    Chapter 4-5 Interlude: Ascension

    unknown.png

    Mission patch for PTC-1


    (00:00) "And launch commit. Onward Voyager-Polaris, show us the dream!"

    (00:02) "Aft pyros disarmed. Abort zone A-1"

    IMG_0141_copy_16.png

    (00:23) "Voyager-Polaris, now rotated around to the correct azimuth, is continuing her ascension. We've got clear skies and calm winds here at the cape, so hopefully that brilliant plume will continue to grow taller and taller, we might even get a little rain out of it down here on the ground."

    (00:53) "Voyager-Polaris now throttling back and approaching max-Q."

    (01:02) “Max Q”

    (01:15) “Throttle returning to normal.”

    (02:00) "Voyager-Polaris, with boosters nearly depleted, is now coming up on booster shut-down and separation, this is what we've been holding our breath for, folks. Godspeed, Voyager-Polaris, we'll see you on the other side."

    (02:15) "And there go the boosters, the plumes of their separator motors obscuring our view for a moment."

    (02:19) "Visual contact! Voyager-Polaris, clear of booster separation, ascending through the smoke and powering onward!"

    (02:24) “Nominal UCS fuel level.”

    (02:32) "LRB-EU jettison, all transponders active, all valves closed."

    (02:37) "The boosters, now split into their base components, are clear from each other and are being tracked by the recovery crews as they return to the Earth.

    (02:58) "Voyager-Polaris is still going strong, no major issues at this time."

    (03:28) “And there's the drogue deployment on all booster components."

    (04:17) "Main chutes deployed and good inflation of the Cobra rafts."

    (04:32) "Looks like the first catches of the day are safely on their way home, now slowly descending under their parachutes."

    (04:56) "Voyager-Polaris, still on track."

    (05:10) “The Cobra rafts are still holding, ready to protect the fragile engines from the Atlantic.”

    (06:04) "We're now seeing the boosters setting down into the Atlantic, fast boats already rushing to secure their parachutes, welcome home, Seabounds."

    (06:15) “With the boosters home, we can now turn our attention back to the stars of the show, still making their way uphill. Next up will be shutdown of the core engines.”

    (07:50) “UCS MECO confirmed.”

    (07:53) “The Polaris core has now shut down to ease the transition out of powered flight easier on the two vessels.”

    (08:12) “MECO, Phoenix.”

    (08:19) "We're almost there folks. With all RS-25E engines shut down, Voyager and Polaris now prepare to go their separate ways, hopefully not for the last time."

    (08:30) "UCS separation."

    (08:32) "Both vehicles now pulsing their reaction control thrusters to widen the gap between them. Soon, Polaris will deploy her four fins and reorient herself in preparation for her journey around the world in ninety minutes before returning back to us here at complex 39B."

    (09:32) "Voyager now opening her payload bay doors and preparing to fire her OMS engines in a little while for a short duration at apogee to place the orbiter into her stable target orbit. We’ll take a quick break and be back in about ten minutes."

    (24:19) “Good light.”

    (24:28) “Shutdown, nominal orbit.”

    (24:32) “We now enter another quiet period for both vehicles for about forty minutes. We will resume coverage just past the T+ one hour, right before entry interface for Polaris, which will be around the T+ one hour and ten minute mark. We’ll see you then, but for now enjoy the views out of Voyager’s payload bay as she approaches her first orbital sunset.”

    (65:57) “This is Mission Control Houston, now at one hour and six minutes into the maiden flight of Let There Be Fire. As you can maybe tell from the images you’re seeing now, it's still a little dark up there, but Voyager is still healthy and continuing her journey to the International Space Station. Looks like Polaris is about to steal the show, though, now approaching entry interface, for those of us used to the STS program, this is where things start getting a bit off of the beaten path. The first thing we'll see is entry interface, which should come about any time around ten to twenty minutes from now. That will be when our descent gets properly underway.”

    (70:15) “There we go, Polaris is now hitting entry interface. We expect some communications loss here soon so, good luck Polaris and we’ll see you when you get through.”

    (70:27) “Alright, there’s plasma blackout, a period of expected communications loss from atmospheric plasma building up around the vehicle. We expect this to last just a little longer than normal due to the cylindrical shape of the core stage, which may trap more plasma behind it than a more typical entry vehicle shape, this should last about four minutes. While we wait, we should be getting some visual contact from one of our faithful WB-57 tracking aircraft sometime during this phase.”

    (72:30) “There she is! Polaris has been locked onto by the WB-57 aircraft, now only visible as a streak of light over North America. If you’re here from the Midwest, weather permitting, you may be able to see her shooting by. The Southeastern US should be able to see her shortly, if you’re in one of those areas along the path, look up and let us know if you saw her!”

    (89:22) “Next up, once the vehicle is through reentry and a little east of Florida, is what mission controllers have begun calling the “Stall-back”, where Polaris will slow down horizontally and reverse her flight direction from nose-first to engine-first flight back to the Kennedy Space Center.”

    (100:42) “Looks like Polaris just hit the stall point and is now falling back to the Space Coast. Utilizing her flaps and body lift, generated by the surface area now exposed to oncoming air, she will now attempt to glide her way back to the cape.”

    (104:27) “It’s a pretty quick fall for Polaris now, she’s already halfway down from her stall point, taking the shuttle’s long standing mantle of “flying brick” for herself. Next up, in about five minutes, is the wild part. We’ve never really tried a propulsive landing from orbit, much less with a vehicle this large, so we aren’t entirely sure what to expect. But we’re all crossing our fingers so hard our nails are turning blue down here on the ground. Come home safe for us, Polaris.”

    (109:12) “Now getting quite close, Polaris is now getting ready to light up three of her RS-25 engines to shed what’s left of her velocity.”

    (110:04) “And there we go! Engine start and Polaris is now attempting to power herself into a stable hover. And she’s upright and stable! Now shutting down her center engine and deploying her landing gear, Polaris is beginning to slowly traverse and drop down onto the concrete pad below her. Come on Polaris, you’re almost home! Touchdown, Polaris! Standing strong and becoming the first ground landing of the program! Polaris will now vent her tanks to bring herself to a safe and stable state for recovery crews to approach her and bring her first flight to a close. Hopefully, we’ll have a lot more of these spectacular landings to see going forward. On the other end of the mission, Voyager is still well on her way to the ISS. For now, though, that will conclude our commentated coverage until the rendezvous with the ISS. Until then, there will continue to be video coverage from the orbiter and we’ll be back here on Thursday, October 31st at 12:30 PM Central for live coverage of the approach and docking with the ISS. Congratulations to all involved with this incredible moment, the dream is alive once more!”
     
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    Chapter 5: Rising From The Ashes
  • Ok, whoops, I'm sick currently so I took off work and forgot it was Friday, twice, so I'm a bit late. I'm also slightly braindead so if something's sketchy (formatting wise like a missing word because I accidentally overwrote it while trying to italicize it, etc.) , I apologize. Thankfully I'm a little ahead of schedule again so at least the chapter wasn't written while I was two seconds from falling asleep. Thanks as always to defconh3ck and on with the show;

    Chapter 5: Rising From The Ashes


    Now cruising steadily towards the ISS, Voyager, at command of Houston, began to check over her systems. The checks revealed good news, Voyager had risen from her first launch unscathed. Most importantly, her heat shield, now pointed at the sun, registered no temperature anomalies across her many sensors, allowing mission controllers a much hoped for sigh of relief. Now with the almost two day free flight, mission control began to relax somewhat as the first hard part had passed. The next complication would be reentry at the end of the vessel’s almost two week sortie, but for now, the next task would be the, mostly proven, approach and docking operations with the ISS. Currently on station, would be NASA astronaut, Patrick Olson, launched on STS-141 and hoping to be the first astronaut aboard the mammoth orbiter in space. Olson had been one of the astronauts working closely with the LTBF program and was already slated for a crew mission, his upcoming experiences moving around and operating in the modernized cockpit of Voyager would be instrumental to the finalization of procedures prior to launching crews aboard the new system.

    Voyager would soon come into view as a black speck against an illuminated horizon for the crew of the ISS, now watching excitedly from the cupola module. The orbiter would carefully drift her way into the approach ellipsoid on the morning of Halloween shooting telemetry data to both the station and TDRS. After a while of loitering the orbiter began her approach finally reaching the keep out sphere and holding before resuming her approach, skipping approach abort tests as they had already been completed aboard STS. Voyager halted at 50m and switched from autonomous to manual control as Olson and Houston took turns at the wheel. The vessel responded happily, though with a little expected delay from Houston's command. After some shuffling around, Voyager entered autonomous control once more and brought herself closer to the station's forward port and made it to soft-lock in, what most of the U.S. would consider, the early-afternoon. Soon the ports would move to hard-lock and crews aboard the station would begin to anxiously monitor the vestibule pressure.

    Eventually the hatch would open and the crew would hold a ceremony, after which they would enter Voyager’s airlock and venture further into the lower deck. The crews were greeted by a relatively familiar looking deck and orbiter’s meager supply load. After a quick look, they then made their way to the flight deck, with Olson going first. The flight deck was drastically different in appearance from the orbiters of old, utilizing the advantages of modern equipment. After giving the people on the ground and their Russian counterparts a tour and unpacking their Halloween deliveries, including gifts from their families, the station crew would begin the two day process of trying out the orbiter’s systems on orbit. Overall, Voyager responded well to the crew’s inputs as they ran through various checklists and only minor changes to procedures were made. Eventually, the orbiter would finally depart, leaving her “first” flight crew behind on the ISS as she ventured back off into the void to spend several days in free flight.

    Voyager’s free flight would be mostly uneventful, with exception of some minor communication issues arising between the vessel and Houston. The issue was traced back to a TDRS handover that was missed by a couple of the redundant flight computers which continued to insist on contacting the old satellite, now over the horizon, before being overruled by the other computers and passing the signal correctly. In the nine days of free flight, the orbiter would run through many procedures from orbit raising to remote use of the Canadarm2X (the new version of Canadarm2 tailored to Phoenix’s payload bay). Voyager successfully demonstrated that the new system was more than capable of carrying the mantle of the Space Shuttle.

    With her flight nearing an end, Voyager rolled over and conducted a brief deorbit burn, placing her on a safe return to Earth. The control room at Houston would once again settle into silence as the orbiter neared entry interface. Ideally this should be nearly identical to the reentries they had all grown accustomed to, but the ever-present worry of the new vessel’s performance loomed over the room just as it always had before. Voyager would soon hit the 0.5G acceleration waypoint indicating that the orbiter was now well on her way into the fiery descent. She would soon begin to be enveloped by a trail of plasma as her heat shield continued to punch a hole through the upper atmosphere. Foregoing the usual communication loss of other vessels, just like her forbearer, Voyager continued transmitting her vital telemetry.

    Just over the Pacific, the WB-57 aircraft had locked Voyager in its sights and began tracking the vessel through reentry. For the observation aircraft, the sight was familiar, a dot of light shooting overhead and beginning to bank for its S-turns. Soon, Voyager would clear entry interface and continue her fall towards the Edwards AFB. The familiar double sonic boom would hit California moments later as the orbiter dropped speed and altitude rapidly. Though she flew somewhat better than her predecessor, she was still a brick designed to create massive amounts of drag to bleed off speed as fast as possible. Voyager drew closer to the runway and was joined by T-38’s which rapidly moved to observe the orbiter for any immediate damages. The orbiter spiraled through the heading alignment cone and exited into the marked runway, setting down as gently as ever under her own control. Shortly after touching the runway, she deployed her drag chute and began to nose down, bringing her nose gear into contact with the ground as well. Voyager rolled to a stop and was soon swarmed by recovery personnel once she had wound down from her descent. Similar to Kite’s debut at White Sands, both media and public had arrived to see the product of almost a decade of work. Voyager was rolled off the runway and by the crowd to be lifted onto her transport back to the KSC, modified from the from their previous configuration for STS.

    Her next mission would soon be upon her once she finished post-flight inspections. This next flight would demonstrate the capability that had driven the program’s development. Voyager would be outfitted with the necessary drop tanks for her OMS pods and be lofted by UCS Copernicus and the Lakebound boosters to lunar orbit. These components had recently arrived and begun their own preparations. Voyager herself would spend four-and-a-half months in preparation and although a new vehicle, her turnaround time benefited massively from lessons learned by her predecessors. The Voyager-Copernicus stack surrounded by the Lakebound “tugs” began to rise in the VAB, ready to break the barrier of LEO that had bound Phoenix’s precursor for so many years.

    April of 2014 would soon roll around and the Voyager-Copernicus stack would inch out of the VAB and continue to LC-39B. The stack would pass by signs of old and new as it crept down the crawlerway. First, on the left was the first FPF facility and the accompanying horizontal transporters, now almost ready. The transporters were two parts, a strongback and the transporter. The full stack would be assembled and stored on the strongbacks and would be picked up and carried by the transporters, pulled by four EDM SD40-2 diesel locomotives, bought from Norfolk Southern, to the pad. The transporters would then verticate the structure and back away once the strongback had been successfully attached to the pad, plugging into the MLP’s modified umbilicals. The necessary systems were in place and nearly ready to support their first launch in the horizontal configuration, aimed to be the primary method for all payloads that could be horizontally integrated, enabling the hangar-to-launch in under 24 hours as the program was intended. Next on the glacial road trip was LC-39A, which had recently hosted the last STS mission, STS-142, seeing Atlantis fly for the last time. Now beginning its own refit, to match LC-39B, to support the new program, including preparation to extend or raise various components to accommodate the taller system. New to LC-39A, however, would be the umbilicals required for the other variants of the UCS-LV system, especially the upcoming Leviathan. Also new would be the addition of a second crew access arm to support the horizontal configuration which would need to be placed on the pad “backwards”, losing access to the umbilical and access arms. LC-39B would be getting these additions once LC-39A was ready to support launches once more. LC-39C, its construction undergoing just as drastic of a change, was still making progress with foundation work now well underway.

    The mammoth stack would finally take up its temporary residence on LC-39B and prepare for launch. Voyager sat proud once more on the pad, this time looking a bit strange by comparison to her first flight. The drop tanks were an odd sight on an orbiter, but it was also hard for many to grasp the thought that this shuttle would be going all the way to the Moon. It would be a massive jump in capability from the STS program. But this jump would be met with an equally massive jump in power, between the new cryogenic boosters, the powered core and the added OMS fuel capacity in the drop tanks, this vessel held the power to potentially go even further. Though, this much reach was likely to never be utilized in a solo flight. Soon Voyager-Copernicus would get her chance, rising into the spring air and setting her sights on the far-off Moon.
     
    Chapter 5-6 Interlude: 23 Minutes
  • Alright, I'm less dead than I thought. I'm still on the fence about getting out a chapter this Friday, but I'm nearly back on track, so if not Friday, there will be one next week. In the meantime, thanks to defconh3ck and enjoy this short interlude to make up for last week where everything is absolutely fine:

    Chapter 5-6 Interlude: 23 Minutes

    unknown.png

    Mission patch for PTC-2 showing the Moon, Earth, and the eventual goal of Mars

    “This is Phoenix mission control with 51 minutes into the flight of PTC-2, If you’re just joining us, we had a beautiful liftoff from the Kennedy Space Center over in Florida, with stage separation and UCS jettison happening on track and on schedule, placing Voyager onto her path to the Moon. As for right now, I’m afraid I may have some bad news, but first, we’ll get the good news, Voyager is continuing to perform as expected and remains on course as she continues on her path to skirt the edge of the Van Allen belt. As for Copernicus, though, after the deorbit burn conducted moments ago, flight controllers have now noticed a higher than expected rate of boil off for both the liquid hydrogen and oxygen propellants. Our data shows this rate has been slowly growing since reaching orbit, but it’s been under the radar for most of the flight. As of right now controllers are evaluating the issue and trying to determine if a safe return of the stage is still possible. We’ll come back with some more information in a few moments.”

    “This is Phoenix mission control now at 56 minutes into the PTC-2 mission. Voyager continues to be nominal, but Copernicus is now edging dangerously close to the point of no return with no sign of her unexpected boil off slowing down anytime soon. This issue has been so far determined to only be boil off, which comes as a source both relief and dread as the vessel’s many systems have behaved correctly, but something may be fundamentally wrong with the core stage and, unfortunately, we may not get the chance to physically evaluate the issue back here on the ground. Mission controllers are currently looking at next steps with the stage currently continuing on its trajectory back to complex 39B and, as of now, they have about twenty-three minutes to find a way home for Copernicus, if they can. The clock is ticking, Godspeed, Copernicus.”

    “OK folks, we’re now at T+65 minutes for the PTC-2 mission and 15 minutes from entry interface. Copernicus’s situation has not improved, in fact, we’re now past the point where we’re certain she lacks the fuel required to complete her landing burn. Mission controllers haven’t given up yet, though, they think there may be a way to get her down in one piece, she won’t be able to fly anymore, though. Currently, they’re looking at a way to drop the stage into the Atlantic using what fuel she has left, but we may not be able to make that kind of change to her flight software this late.”

    “We’re now about 5 minutes from entry interface and we have some good news. Copernicus still lacks propellant sufficient for a normal landing, that hasn’t changed, unfortunately, but mission controllers believe they have found and, hopefully, implemented a solution to bring her safely into the Atlantic. We can’t make any large changes, but we can alter the numbers streaming into her flight computers. Controllers have altered two things, first is her landing location, this is a standard feature, so this really wasn’t much of an alteration, but she is now aiming for a typical “ditch” location just off the coast. Support vessels now wrapping up booster retrieval are being relieved of the recovery barges by tugs from Port Canaveral and being redirected towards this new landing site. Second, controllers have implemented an alteration to Copernicus’s radar altimeter, her flight computers currently believe the vessel to be 500 feet above her real altitude. That altitude difference won’t make much difference this far up, but it will once we start closing in on the landing site. 500 feet is the typical height of the hover stage of the landing burn, the point at which the vessel would bring her velocity to roughly zero before descending onto the landing pad. While we don’t have the fuel for a full landing, we believe we may have enough to achieve this hover, which will now be a mere few feet above the water, hopefully setting her somewhat gently into the Atlantic just before, or as, she runs dry. She won’t be airworthy again and certainly her engines won’t fly again, but we will get a complete core stage back that we can study for faults, giving us a better picture of what could have caused this problem and how we can fix it. We’ll be waiting for you Copernicus, come home safe.”

    Copernicus, powered through reentry just as Polaris before her, seemingly unaware of her destination. She slowly turned her nose up, coming to a vertical position, stalling east of Florida, and beginning the quick fall back to the coast. Support ships were waiting at the edge of the recovery area, fast boats already being lowered down to the water, waiting for their moment to descend upon the stage and stabilize her on the waves. Copernicus, descended through the clouds and faithfully executed her deceleration burn, uprighting herself and coming to a stop just over the water’s surface, shoving it out of the way as her center engine shut down. She made it to the stopping point just a few feet above the surface and began to start a typical descent, but her engines choked, her fuel now depleted, and dropped into the waiting Atlantic. Copernicus bobbed upright for a few seconds before leaning and quickly falling, with her nose impacting the waves. The fast boats were released and sped towards the battered core, support vessels trailing behind.

    Copernicus’s RS-25 nozzles were crumpled and shattered, tiles were missing from her fall, and two fins were laying limp, having broken free of their locks. Soon support craft surrounded her, strapping inflatable rafts meant for the boosters to her in an attempt to keep her above the surface and stable. After her long and eventful flight, Copernicus was home at last, not as anyone had hoped, but she was home.
     
    Chapter 6: Back in Business
  • Alright this semester might only mostly suck, but it is time for a return to flight in the wake of Copernicus taking a small drink and some other steps toward the next flight, so thanks to defconh3ck for the assistance in these developments and on we go:

    Chapter 6: Back in Business

    Copernicus bobbed along assisted back to Port Canaveral between two tug boats and towed by MV Freedom Star. Visitors to Jetty Park and the rest of the port looked on as the battered Copernicus floated slowly by. The tugs pushed the stage up to a dock and cranes carefully fished it out of the water. The cranes held Copernicus over the edge of the concrete letting all the water drain out of her before swinging her over the ground to lower her onto a set of transporters that had only just arrived. Copernicus was hurried back to the VAB to begin inspection with no shortage of onlooker attention. NASA would maintain the accident was of little lasting concern, this was a test program after all, they would especially stated that it would be best to wait before jumping to conclusions. This didn’t stop some from beginning to doubt the system, but others would state the contrary, so far the system had only two flights, it was simply too soon to say. In any case, NASA began to work out where to go now, but it would take the partial completion of the investigation into Copernicus to know for sure. In the meantime, Voyager was still in the ring, so far nothing serious had arisen in the vessel and she continued her three day cruise to her short capture burn around the Moon.

    Voyager’s capture burn would go as planned, placing the orbiter into a highly eccentric orbit which would bring her close to the lunar surface. The first pass would bring a photo in the works since 2005, Earthrise from Voyager’s flight deck. Combined with Voyager’s continued great health, the program appeared so close to returning humans to the Lunar surface already. Countering engineer’s concerns, the drop tanks were holding well and keeping the OMS engines fed for the trip so far. Also performing as hoped was the new solar-electric power system that had replaced the fuel cells, operating from a solar array mounted at the front of the payload bay in a similar arrangement to the Ku-band antenna, only on the other side. The system had functioned well on PTC-1 as well, but it was even more vital here. Over the course of a week, Voyager would help mission controllers refine lunar operations, especially communication through the Deep Space Network, a new operation in regards to a shuttle. Meanwhile, her MPLM collected data to guide mission planners in future operations. One of the many experiments aimed at future operations actually sat outside the MPLM. Dozens of swatches of potential space suit sections were placed in the payload bay where they could be exposed to the intense environment. Building on lessons learned from the suits used both around the ISS and in the Apollo missions, hoping to improve functionality and safety of the new suits with these materials.

    Eventually, the time came to return and Voyager lit her OMS engines again, sending her into a return trajectory to Earth that would involve seven passes over the course of six days to slowly bring the orbiter down to a safe speed to descend through to Edwards AFB on the final pass. Voyager would orient herself to point towards the now oncoming Earth and sent the command to separate her, now purged, drop tanks. The tanks released their hold downs and fired their small separator motors, clearing them from the vehicle and lowering their orbit a little more and ensuring a safe disposal into the atmosphere. She would soon transition from the DSN back to TDRS as she passed under the relay network’s purview. Mission controllers would hold their breath as Voyager closed her bay doors and made her first pass. She would soon rise back out of the atmosphere, regaining a temporarily lost connection to TDRS and reopening her payload bay doors for the first go around. After a positive health check of the orbiter, Voyager would swing around and repeat the process five more times, slowly inching her orbit lower and lower. Eventually, the final stretch was upon her, hopefully this pass would be closer to a normal reentry now that her orbit had been dropped to a more typical altitude. One last time, Voyager opened her payload bay to allow her radiators to function, but she would not deploy her solar array or Ku-band antenna. As she made her just over 100-minute final orbit, observation aircraft made their way to their respective places for the final time to watch the orbiter hurdle in for landing. With exception of being slightly higher energy, Voyager made an excellent repeat of her performance on her previous mission. She lazily swung through her S-turns and brought herself closer to Edwards with the ever-familiar sonic booms, eventually bringing her legs down onto the marked runway in the desert. Her drogue chute weakly popped out and eventually deployed fully later than hoped. Thankfully with the long runway allowed the orbiter had the room to slow down safely. Later the issue would be discovered as a weak detonation of the deployment charge caused by additional resistance from trapped heat around the wiring only now arriving after slowly working through the heat tiles.

    The aftermath of the mission was a mixed bag. On the one hand, the mission had been completed successfully, giving NASA plenty of data to work with. On the other, the loss of a brand new core stage and the weak drogue deploy were a bit worrying, though to very different degrees. NASA maintained that the loss, while certainly not hoped for, wasn’t entirely out of the question for the fledgling system and the lasting effects would hopefully be minimal. The parachute was also noted as being a relatively simple fix. Either way, NASA would suspend flight operations for about a month while they mulled over the data and the watered down Copernicus. It didn’t take long for NASA, in cooperation with the other governmental agencies, to narrow down the problem, the boil off was just faster than projected, not at all assisted by this stage's prolonged direct exposure to the sun, something absent from Polaris’s mostly night flight. Following a report that Copernicus had done everything as correctly as she could have and the issue was out of her hands, NASA partially lifted the suspension, still keeping the hold on high energy flights until corrective measures, yet to be determined, could be implemented. Eventually, corrective measures would be found, the “chandelier” landing tanks would be moved from their place, up against the tank wall to hanging from the center. The added stability from the offset center of mass was noted from the first two flights as negligible, its help would not make up for a malfunctioning fin or otherwise. Additionally, better, and heavier, insulating materials would be used and the mass limit for high energy payloads would be somewhat lowered to provide a larger propellant buffer for boil off. By an extreme stroke of luck, UCS Vega was entering the stage of production at Michaud where these changes could be inserted without major disruption and minimal backtracking, after a brief hold on production to design the new configuration, the altered tank would be installed. Once Vega would arrive at KSC, NASA planned to send Tauri back for the retrofit of the tanks, followed by Polaris once Tauri had returned.

    The loss of Copernicus had also managed to revive something from the initial planning stages back in 2005. So far, UCS had two “blocks”; Block 1, the “expendable” or the later “special request” version and Block 2, the primary version with propulsive landing. Besides that, however, there initially existed another option for the Block 2, a flyback stage. The current Block 2 had won out with the possibly higher payload up mass from the obvious lack of having wings to weigh it down. With the potentially permanent reduction of the capability of Block 2, however, the flyback variant, now being labeled as Block 3, was back on the table. It offered an advantage that only increased as the stage went farther away from the Earth. While Block 2 would need more and more propellant to sate the inevitable boil off, even with the boost back burn to return the stage home sooner (which itself dug into propellant margins), Block 3 would only need propellant for the boost back burn. Block 2 would still be the king of lower altitude flights, with the short flight time meaning less of a boil off buffer required and lacking the "dead weight" of wings, and, with restrictions, it could still handle some higher flights, but Block 3 would restore most of the lost up mass capacity to farther destinations. This would take time in development for certain, but thankfully the temporary solutions put in place wouldn’t suffocate the program and amended plans would soon begin to march onward.

    Speaking of which, Voyager was now getting her first partner. Drifter arrived while Voyager was cleaned up after her long ride. While Voyager got a heavy inspection, Drifter began preparations to carry out the grand honor of the first crewed flight of the system under the PTC-3 mission, aiming for a six day LEO free flight. Over in California, another orbiter was almost done as well. Work on Wayfarer was winding down as the final touches were being made. Next door, Traveler was halfway through construction herself, soon hoping to bring the Phoenix fleet up to four. Enough vehicles were arriving to set up the rapid cadence always envisioned for such a system. Also in support of this goal, the horizontal transporters had finally been completed along with the two FPF’s.

    Groundwork was also starting to roll on an adjacent facility, the Emergency Call Orbiter (ECO) facility, which would be similar in style to the FPF’s, instead having bays to support two Phoenix stacks horizontally and a workspace in between. This facility would keep one stack in a “ready to go” state should an emergency ever arise, requiring the rapid launch of another orbiter. Ideally, this setup would minimize disruption to other ongoing operations in the midst of whatever chaos arises while scrambling a stack, also aiming to lower the risk of “rushing” a stack to the pad as it would already be ready. Realistically, though, the ECO program was an elaborate excuse to conduct regular maintenance on the various vehicles of the program without inconsistently scheduled maintenance interrupting an otherwise busy cadence. The processing flow would be somewhat complicated, starting with the new stack coming in for ECO service being “field stripped” having all removable sub-assemblies removed, such as engines, OMS pods, airlocks, etc. Once those were taken off, the components removed from the previous ECO stack from when it entered service, now inspected and repaired as needed, would be installed on the incoming stack. When the fresh components were installed, the former ECO stack leaves, reentering active service and the new stack goes “on duty” while its former components are inspected and repaired for the next stack.

    Moving back to the FPF’s, FPF-1 was getting ready to host its first mission, UTS-1 which would be the first of the “buffer manifest”, a group of missions that NASA would need to fly and could not risk missing due to a late launcher, such as cargo resupplies or crew rotations for the ISS. These missions were slated to fly on STS or UTS, in order to either give Phoenix something to do for early flights to build confidence in the system, or keep these needed missions running on STS if Phoenix ran behind schedule as it predictably was from the landing gear redesign. There were originally a total of nine missions, with four already being taken by STS in Phoenix’s absence. Voyager, once she had been inspected to within an inch of her life, would venture out once more for the first of these remaining flights, carrying seven crew and cargo on an ISS cargo resupply run. It would be a seemingly slow start, but among these first flights, the program would show no lack of ambition, aiming to soon take the first of many steps towards Mars.
     
    Chapter 7: Rolling Start
  • Back again, this week has slowed me down a small amount, so there exists the possibility there may not be a chapter next week. I'm maybe only a day behind, but if next week is similar it may put me yet another behind, so we'll have to wait and see, I suppose. In the meantime, though, thanks to defconh3ck and I hope you have some fun with this week's chapter!

    Chapter 7: Rolling Start

    Mid-2014 rolled around and Drifter prepared to make her sprint for orbit as she was stacked on the Tauri core stage with the Baybound LRB’s. Much like the first flight, it would be an all new set for the mission. The next mission, also starting the early stages of preparation in FPF-1, would face a mild dilemma, however. While less nervous about the reuse of the orbiters for their familiarity or the boosters that didn’t have to put up with the harsh environment of reentry, NASA was wary about reusing the UCS system this early, especially with crew. Polaris would have to step up to the plate after Vega was held back at Michoud for retrofitting. After over a year of inspection and some small alterations, Polaris seemed to take the flight and return well. Just to be safe, however, many of Polaris’s “primary” components (components critical to launch, not reuse) had been removed and replaced while the old components made their way across the country to their various testing locations to demonstrate their continued ability to function in less risky environments. Refurbishment was something NASA would hope to avoid as much as possible in the future, but for this point, they were still somewhat wary of that level of reuse. That being said, it would come soon enough anyway, only moving up the manifest by one flight and NASA would make the exception, albeit with heavy review of the veteran UCS.

    Back across the crawlerway, Drifter-Tauri started her slow roll out of the VAB and on towards a July launch attempt. The space-bound stack would pass some items that would come as a bittersweet sight. Still rolling out of the back of the VAB, the crawler would pass pile after pile of hardware gutted from the OPF’s as the KSC started converting the rest of them to support the incoming fleet. The STS days were coming to a close, the program had no more scheduled flights, but NASA, in an ineffective attempt to bluff a “backup plan” for public reassurance, would state that the orbiters, along with some other spare hardware, would not completely retire just yet, in case Phoenix ground to a screeching halt during the first few buffer flights, but afterwards that would be the end for certain. With no major hold-ups on the horizon, though, it looked as though this was it for the old guard and many would say their goodbyes to the marvelous vessels that had brought the future within reach of its successors, flown by those they had inspired for so many years.

    Drifter-Tauri’s time would soon come in the mid-July heat, her crew settled in and anxiously counting the seconds. In both the Firing Room and Houston, the air of excitement that loomed over the previous two launches had been somewhat diluted with unease. Though the addition of crew shouldn’t change anything major, the teams had plenty of practice, the procedures had been refined, they even had a couple full launches under their belts. By all accounts, this should be easier, but the inevitable worries of crew settled in anyway. Countdown would go smoothly and the moment of ignition would come without a hitch. The crew would shout with excitement as the stack lurched off the pad and picked up speed.

    Upon reaching orbit, the crew got up and peered out at the world below them. They would soon give their remarks of their wonderful journey, with Shuttle veteran, Amy Bryant, stating the flight was certainly a bit smoother than her last trip. After remarks, they would settle in for their first rest period, ready to start their testing of the new vessel in free flight. With the aid of notes taken by the PTC-1’s “crew”, the mission would pass with ease and with a safe return to the Kennedy Space Center, the crew was met with fanfare. It would be the first time crew could return to the SLF since STS ceased operations, which granted, hadn’t been long, but it would still be a well received milestone.

    NASA would immediately get hard at work with the remaining red tape to place the system into active service. In the meantime, the FPF’s were prepping for their first flight, with the first horizontal stacking of Voyager-Polaris, together again atop the Lakebound tugs. The rail transporters had both received names as well, with Transporter-1 receiving the name Endurance and Transporter-2 receiving the name Resolute. Both were named after ships that had once carried explorers to the far reaches of the Earth in history just as they would carry these vessels on the first step of their great voyages. The newly christened Resolute made way to LC-39B carrying an empty strongback to conduct some various modal testing during the wait for UTS-1. After depositing the strongback and launch plate, Resolute backed down to the bottom of the ramp and looked on as the new structure underwent testing, including rapidly pulling away from a simulated launch and cryogenic testing of the various fuel lines. To the relief of engineers and administration alike, no major issues would arise from testing, signaling one of the final green lights for the first operational flight.

    With a few more good results, Resolute once again grabbed the strongback and returned to rest in front of FPF-2, making way for Voyager-Polaris to soon take her place atop the freshly completed LC-39A. The pad had finished receiving the numerous upgrades for the “backwards” positioning of the stack and now stood ready. While most of the pad had been left alone, the tower had evolved into a strange monstrosity of limbs, with two sets of umbilical and access arms, both the original and another set, mirrored in position and one level lower. Also new were the added levels and set of umbilical arms to support other incoming variants of the UCS-LV system. The addition consisted of three arms with a small amount of actuation. Two of which support both propellants for the three variants of the Firelight upper stages and one for the environmental and electrical control lines to support the various needs of the payloads. For Voyager-Polaris this arm would remain well out of the way, but its appearance would mark the beginning of the program’s non-shuttle operations. Another strange alteration would be the tower escape system which had been lowered by a half level, with both crew access levels having a small ramp to reach the baskets.

    Voyager-Polaris, with a roar from her supporting locomotives rolled out of the FPF, already speeding past the crawlers’ glacial pace. Ground crews would wave as the gargantuan transporter rolled by the crowd gathered outside, with one worker shouting down, “All aboard Endurance, servicing the International Space Station, Moon, and Mars!” Once at the pad, Voyager-Polaris was brought upright by the hydraulics of Endurance to stand proud once more and after some lengthy testing to finish up validation, the pair would power away from the pad on the maiden flight if the main UTS program with the strongback falling away. The stack would light up the November night sky as she rose from the KSC on her way to the ISS. It would be a mundane first few flights, but it would be a start. Plenty of time to ease concerns of potential payload providers and plenty of time for the first development hardware for both the Moon and Mars to begin showing up.

    Over at Michoud, the first of this hardware was soon to make an appearance. Working alongside the almost finished Vega, the first Block 1 was nearing completion as well as it geared up to handle the Absurd-Duration Atmospheric Pressure Test (A-DAPT). The new stage was somewhat bland in appearance, lacking landing legs, RCS thrusters, heatshielding, etc. Effectively, just a tank with some engines and a boat-tail. The Block 1 was already showing the versatility of what was effectively just a blank frame. The Block 2’s avionics had been placed in their typical location inside the intertank to give the stage the ability to be controlled during its long duration mission. Also shoehorned to the outside the interstage was a small deployable solar array that would keep the stage powered, noticeable only by its aerocover that would pop off during the last stages of ascent. The decision had been made that the UCS would receive a dedicated mission to ensure the stage’s operations would start correctly and to place it on a different orbit than the ISS, which would be where the stage would be placed if it were to rideshare on another mission.

    For UTS-1, the return would be textbook, with another safe return from all components. The milestones kept rolling in with the first reflight of UCS and an orbiter-UCS pair. Many more firsts were clear on the horizon, but so were steps forward. Phoenix had not lost sight of her reason to exist, after all. Rapid Lunar return was still on the docket and its time was approaching.
     
    Chapter 8: Shifting Focus
  • Alright, the new schedule is definitely working out, this week is a mess that isn't anywhere near over yet and yet I'm still on schedule. Thanks to defconh3ck, especially on this one because I can not make science missions to save my own life. In any case, have fun with a look at some things going on in the background:

    Chapter 8: Shifting Focus

    With the first flights underway, sights began to shift back towards Lunar landings. While temporary restrictions still stood on long range flights, estimates of the altered UCS’s performance, this time benefiting from past experience and a little less use of rose-tinted glasses, showed most of the systems up mass would be restored, at least, enough to proceed back to higher energy missions. Unfortunately, Copernicus’s scar would still linger for a while, leaving a permanent dent in the maximum payload limit of the system. Crewed Lunar landings weren’t exempt from these impacts either. Most notably, the missions would see an altitude increase, leaving more work on the lander itself for descent and ascent, the margin was thankfully there to accommodate, but it would thin that margin.

    As another partial result of the hit, the decision was made to shift some cargo from the crewed lander to pre-staged landers, which would be provided by other partners. This plan already somewhat existed, but it was supposed to enter later in the program instead of immediately. With the decision made, requests for proposals went out to the commercial industry and were met with the usual flood. Also among the entries was a proposal from JAXA, who had been developing their option for a while, already aiming to offer payload services for later missions. Now with the deadline both posted and moved forward, they moved with it, now well ahead of other proposals. In a letter to NASA, JAXA would express their condolences for the loss of Copernicus, but stated that maybe there would be a silver lining yet, in that more cooperation moving forward with Lunar access may lead other agencies to join the Aurora Program.

    NASA wasn’t just busy sending out requests for Lunar returns, though. While Phoenix was starting operational flights, NASA began quietly sending out requests for information to the telecom industry regarding interest in potentially “larger”, “modular” satellites in geostationary that could be launched in “short order”. The requests were somewhat vague, leading some to request more information, only to be denied. Around the same time, proposals for interplanetary probes started surfacing depicting probes launched on Firelight 4’s that were much too lengthy to ride with the stage onboard an orbiter. Some began to theorize about payloads that would require multiple launches for assembly and some would even draw the lines back to the Starlight Brigade study, which for the last little while seemed to have fallen off the table. When asked about the study’s status, a NASA official simply stated that the missions hadn’t been thrown out yet and they were in the process of “testing the waters” before making any decisions. Soon NASA would get their answers and would shortly send another request for information in a similar quiet manner, this time to satellite manufacturers requesting information on interest in fabricating these structures. The silence around these requests would be regarded as strange, coming from NASA, who with the rest of the program had been so transparent. That being said it was a strange idea, maybe the agency simply didn’t want too much public interest in the subject just yet.

    Hopping across the pond, Roscosmos had completed their pathfinder for the Kliper vehicle and had started work on the first flight vehicle. While discussion of the nuclear agreement continued at its expectedly abysmal pace, an interim agreement had made it through to get some items rolling, starting with the joint involvement in the small lifting body. The goal was for Kliper to have its inaugural test flight at some point in the next few years, depending on funding and when the first flight model made it out of production. As far as the supporting infrastructure, most of the work had been completed, a small building had been constructed near the facilities for Soyuz for processing and preparing the Klipers for flight. Roscosmos hoped to use this building to operate a smaller fleet of three or four orbiters, at least for the time being.

    Back in the U.S., at Michoud, work on the two new core stages would soon wrap up and make their way to the KSC. Vega would go first, arriving in the Turning Basin and being met with her flight-proven sister, Tauri. The two stages would switch places with Vega proceeding into the VAB for storage and Tauri taking the Pegasus barge back to Louisiana for the necessary upgrades to somewhat restore her capabilities. Polaris, still keeping her LEO restrictions, would remain with Vega to keep the launch cadence up, but would swap places with Tauri upon her return. With Vega’s arrival came the partial withdrawal of the long range suspension on the program. While no immediate missions had need of the range, the notion that the program had been, at least partly, restored to its full capability came as a relief.

    The next arrival would be the peculiar Block 1, which would roll off the Pegasus barge in early 2015, mere weeks after the arrival of Vega. The stage would simply retain the acronym A-DAPT as its name, given its no-return nature and its appearance resembled the early external tanks of the STS program, with its all-white foam shell. The dedicated mission would hope to follow the upcoming UTS-2 mission seeing Drifter on her second outing carried by Vega. Voyager would accompany the Block 1 through to orbit, hoping to assist in any setup tasks the stage may fail to complete independently. Ideally, Voyager would only be there to observe the UCS from a distance as it set up shop on its own, but the unusual nature of the stage meant NASA wasn’t confident enough to let the vessel try without ready assistance being available. With this arrival, NASA was already in the process of dreaming up the next Block 1’s, NASA was already looking to take the first steps in propellant transfer, hoping to prioritize on the cargo MTV’s development, as they would be the first built. In the usual style, one step at a time was the idea. The first step would be to ensure the concept could be accurately modeled, so a demonstration would need to occur to prove the current models and establish procedures. This would occur in parallel with another test involving a Firelight 4 dud, which would simply be the fuel tankage attached to the strongback. Later, the use of a propellant “depot” would be employed to further develop standard procedures and mechanisms for long duration propellant storage.

    The first demonstration would not have to wait long. Not long before UTS-2, a smaller, less noticed delivery made its way into the turning basin. Bunking with an arriving Delta IV aboard MV Delta Mariner, the first “working model” of a Firelight 4 rolled its way into the VAB, aiming to soon finalize handling and propellant transfer operations for the upper stage in the near future. There were a few more buffer flights in the way, but the launch campaign for PTC-4 was now out of the starting gate. Something not visibly apparent on the bare-bones stage was a change in engine configurations. The J-2X would still find use, though in reduced numbers, on the larger stages, but Firelight 4 would see a change to the RL-10. This change came from a myriad of reasons, everything from the RL-10’s extendable nozzle allowing for longer payloads to fit with the stage to higher engine reliability for the upcoming Lunar lander variant.

    These weren't the only first steps to Mars though. Across the world the components for a new age of planetary science were beginning to manifest. Planting boots on the red sands of Mars would not be so easy as loading a MTV and sending it along, years of study and data gathering would need to occur long before crews could see the new world. This would come in the form of wave after wave of probes dispatched to the red planet, starting with two polar orbiters, Mirage and Oasis. The first being a radar mapping satellite, also carrying ground penetrating radar. The latter also being an imaging platform utilizing multiple other methods, including thermal imagery. Later waves would focus on smaller landers to pathfind for crewed landers later as well as test ground equipment in situ to ensure confidence.

    Eyes were turning higher than before and Phoenix was eager to earn her keep. The missions that would pave the way across the solar system were beginning to come into view, something almost impossible to believe only a few years ago.
     
    Chapter 9: Flight of the Oddball
  • We're back and, it's time for the first Block 1 of many. I don't have any announcements to make so thanks to defconh3ck and let's get going;

    Chapter 9: Flight of the Oddball

    UTS-2 came and went, as another cargo run to the ISS. This time, the mission would coincide with a spacewalk, getting the first images from crews outside the orbiter. As noted by many that have seen the vessel, astronauts noted it was a familiar sight. One spacewalker, Mathew Coleman, would remark, “Looking at the head, it’s just like old times, but then you start looking down and it just keeps on going for a little bit longer than I think it will. Heh, I think I might need more time to get used to this thing.” Drifter would soon depart, returning home to KSC following in the old tracks of her core, Vega, setting down on the SLF on a late evening.

    Meanwhile, over at the VAB, a hive of activity was stirring. Inside, Voyager waited to be joined to the A-DAPT core, now aboard the MLP. Across the transfer isle, the conversion of the old STS highbays was now underway, stripping out access platforms while NASA awaited the completion of the new platforms for both the orbiters and the other configurations of the UCS-LV. The new platforms, at their base, would be large enough to support the largest the system had to offer, Leviathan. For smaller setups, inserts (installed by the overhead gantry system) would be used to fill the gaps. The conversion for the “oddballs”, as the unnamed variants would come to be called, would take time, but their infrequent appearances would make it manageable enough. Some wouldn’t even need to be changed if the configuration had no need of higher platforms, for example the upper platforms would likely almost never be taken out of the Leviathan configuration. Eventually, NASA believed Leviathan would become a regular enough launcher that it may simply have a highbay to itself to cut back on conversion times for the lower platforms.

    A-DAPT would take her slow roll out to the pad, carrying the, mostly empty, Voyager along for the ride. In terms of the orbiter, very little equipment was expected to be necessary, only some typical tools for a possible EVA or two, but the payload bay would remain otherwise empty. After various checks and tests performed in the VAB, confidence the UCS would be able to operate correctly without interference had grown. Nevertheless, the crew had spent the past few months preparing for whatever tasks the stage may throw their way.

    Passing the FPF’s, Resolute had been moved inside FPF-2 as another stack would start the march to orbit in support of the UTS-3 mission, which unlike the previous two missions, aimed to pay a visit to an old friend, Hubble. It would be the first Hubble servicing mission of the new system’s career and it wouldn’t be just routine maintenance either. Alongside the usual maintenance, NASA planned to evaluate some future options for the aging telescope while they were there and had the opportunity for a hands-on look. Most notably was the potential addition of a service module to enhance Hubble’s attitude control ability. For now, though, those plans would remain on the drawing board, but it would be a good idea to begin looking at the spacecraft for options.

    Work around FPF-1 was happening too, cleaning up from their previous launch and getting ready to take on its next flight, UTS-4 with another ISS flight. In a way the A-DAPT stack rolling down the crawler way was a strange sight among the mundane buffer flights, a mission to lay the first brick in the road to Mars was finally on its way out. For some, the mission would be met with rolled eyes, a program slated to do so much, so fast, was only now starting to take the first of those promised steps. To a degree, maybe they had a point. After all, the goal of a 2020 Moon landing was starting to look like a stretch, development on the altered Orion-Firelight 4 pair was running behind, namely from the small sideways engines intended for the final landing burn and initial takeoff from the Lunar surface. Development hadn’t ground to a halt, but it was beginning to miss some of the optimistic deadlines set during the initial selection. NASA would remain confident in the possibility of the landing still occurring on time, though. Fortunately, A-DAPT would only be the first of many steps occurring in rapid succession, hopefully bringing the program's goals back into line. Soon the first Firelight 4 demonstrator would start the path back to the Moon, the first crewed Lunar flight was on the horizon, and regular flights were becoming just that.

    While odd in appearance, the launch of A-DAPT would go as planned, shedding the solar array cover and ascending all the way into a full low Earth orbit instead of the sub-orbital trajectory typical of a UCS return. Voyager would separate from the core and drift away to the planned observation distance before flipping over to give the crew a chance to watch the deployment of the solar array and look for any unexpected visual queues as the tanks moved to their starting pressure of between two and three atmospheres. The pressure was overkill for testing atmospheric conditions, but the extra pressure would be a useful reserve for continued testing. The array would spring out from the intertank’s side, swaying as it locked into place while the rest of the stage began working to manage the pressure in its tanks as residual propellant evaporated. After a couple hours of stationkeeping with the stage, Voyager would finally get the good news from Houston, A-DAPT had reached starting pressure in both tanks and all was looking good. The crew would stay with the stage a while longer, photographing the lone UCS (somewhat cooked from LRB jettison) hovering silently over the Earth, before pushing away and tuning their orbit for a return in a little over a day-and-a-half, taking time to do some inspections and brief microgravity experiments, placing the mission as the shortest of the program and its predecessor, beating Columbia’s time on STS-2 by nine hours.

    Watching from the sidelines and seeking another launch system, the U.S. Air Force began to express an interest in the system, formally requesting information regarding NASA’s availability to launch Department of Defense payloads or department related service missions. In a surprise to USAF, NASA administration expressed a strong opposition to the request, stating that it would not be “productive” to the international partnerships the agency was forming with the system. NASA simply did not want the inevitable fallout from spy satellites flying on an orbiter that could then turn around and launch a Russian cosmonaut. While caught off guard by the response, USAF would state their understanding of the statement and continue their search, venturing into the commercial sector.

    Making its way through the buffer flights, Phoenix operations were beginning to pick up speed, moving their way towards five launches a year and aiming for more. So far, NASA was well on the way to that goal, making it to three launches by June of 2015. Riding on the heels of the most recent of which, was the next test campaign flight, PTC-4, carrying the Firelight 4 dud out to LC-39B via the crawler for a series of wet dress rehearsals. On the way, the stack would take a right turn at what previously had not been an intersection. With LC-39C having its base completed and the tower beginning to rise, the crawlerway had also been connected properly, having previously only been a cleared strip of land and a temporary gravel road bed. Construction had taken longer than the original two had, but building a pad to modern standard from scratch had slowed the process. The implementation of minor design changes from lessons learned by the other pads’ retrofits had taken some time as well. At current pace, projections would have the pad ready to operate normally by the end of the next year.

    The new pad would have plenty of business too, recently arrived were a large number of vehicles, both new and old. The first would be a new orbiter, Wayfarer. Visually, nothing was different, but like Drifter before her, lessons learned from the previous orbiters had improved and solidified her design. Second in line was the return of Tauri, sporting the new chandelier landing tank and the associated new insulation. Polaris would meet her at the Turning Basin, swapping places to take her trip back for her own retrofitting. Once back at Michoud, Polaris would sit alongside the upcoming replacement for Copernicus, Altair, commissioned in order to restore the fleet back to its planned initial number of four stages. Another set of stablemates were the upcoming LRB’s, part of the first group bearing names from Martian surface features; Olympus, Arsia, Pavonis, and Ascraeus.

    The new arrivals would settle in and begin work towards their upcoming flights and begin to fuel an even faster cadence.
     
    Chapter 10: High Jump
  • Running late, but I am here. I got caught up working on a midterm project so whoops. Thanks to defconh3ck on this one especially, because there is a lot going on here. It's a fun chapter today, with a couple test flights, one definitely stranger than the other:

    Chapter 10: High Jump

    Back out at LC-39B, the uncrewed Drifter-Vega, would take flight on the third try, after taking some precautionary measures with the new Firelight 4 stage tagging along in her payload bay. The ascent would be filled with worry as ground crews anxiously watched the fueled stage be carried to orbit. While the public was less aware of it, the weight of the stage along with whatever payload may accompany it, would place the system in a very concerning position in terms of abort capability. It would certainly blackout any of the pad aborts, which barely existed to begin with, and the first phases of in-flight scenarios as well, with the already questionable water landing potentially rupturing the stage on impact. On top of that the best way to abort after that typically involved dumping as much fuel out of the vehicles as possible as jettisoning the stage would only be reasonable in late stage aborts.

    Snapping mission controllers out of their worry, Drifter and Vega reached their respective MECO’s and parted ways. Leaving Drifter and the Firelight 4 to reach their target orbit. Once there, telemetry indicated that both the upper stage and the abort tank had kept their fuel loads successfully. Along with the initial good news, the rest of the mission went according to plan, testing propellant transfer on orbit with minimal issues. With their work in orbit completed, all leftover cryogenic propellant would be slowly and carefully discharged and Drifter would make her return to KSC. Once back on the ground, celebrations of the first orbital propellant transfer would give way to the back-end work of the mission immediately, seeing heavy inspections for both the Firelight and Drifter. Handling procedures would also begin to narrow in on an operational form for the stage and understanding for other future propellant transfer operations now had real data to rely on. With newly gained confidence in the system, the path looked clear for the system’s first operational mission in the later end of 2016, aiming to send the OSIRIS-REx mission on its way to sample the asteroid Bennu. The mission had been swapped over to Phoenix in the year prior, after working out an alteration to the launch agreement with ULA, who accepted the switch as they were still supporting the launch with Firelight and maintained Atlas V as a backup option.

    For ULA, it was a busy year, with work picking up on the Firelights, including the underway production of the first DAL model, though this one would be mostly just a Firelight 4 and an Orion command module, but that wasn’t all. The USAF, who were still in the market for their next launcher finally found one after coming up empty with Phoenix. Their new solution wouldn’t be available for a while, but the opportunity was still alluring. Under various agreements between ULA and other partners, USAF and NASA included, had started working on the initial phases of their next system, Vulcan. Aiming to combine the incredible heritage of both the Atlas and Delta families into one powerful workhorse. For the DOD, it would fit the job well, even if it did take time and while they waited, Delta IV and Atlas V were happy to carry the load.

    Back in Highbay 2, preparations for a different kind of mission were underway. Back near the program’s start NASA had stated that not only did Phoenix have proper abort capability, they intended to prove it and the first demonstration was closing in. Gaining the PTC-5A designation, the mission would be comprised of Vega and the Baybound boosters, along with a recent arrival to KSC, Kite. Due to her near proximity to an orbit capable vehicle and functionality as a flight article, Kite had been reassigned from her static fire test article duties to begin a new role as the dedicated vehicle for the Early Mission Abort (EMA) test series, aiming to test various non-reentry abort modes. For PTC-5A, the intention would be to begin a typical flight until booster separation, where booster 3 would intentionally fail to jettison. To facilitate the simulated failure, LRB Harmony was replaced with a new booster, which lacked recovery hardware and would be jettisoned after Vega had long cleared the abort.

    While no longer planned, the failed booster was initially planned to remain attached with non-explosive bolts and the Phoenix assigned to PTC-5B would follow shortly behind, carrying an additional set of tanks to top off Vega and a new piece of hardware, which aimed to later aid in larger orbital construction projects concerning the UCS stages, a deorbit module, supplied by Orbital ATK and consisting of a small solid rocket motor and a basic attitude control system. The Phoenix would meet Vega and the attached booster, attach the deorbit module, manually separate the booster and let it drift away, then top off Vega for its own deorbit and return. Even more first uses were planned including the fueling lines, that had been so far sitting unused on Phoenix’s new robotic arms, and the new temporary latching points for the arms, also already present, but so far unused. Between both delays in the deorbit module’s development, the dependency on so many “firsts” for the program, and the UCS fleet currently wearing thin in numbers, NASA moved to scale back the mission’s ambition and remove this follow-up mission.

    Kite’s time would soon come, thundering off the pad into an almost clear Florida sky. After successfully passing through maximum dynamic pressure, flight controllers would begin holding their breath, counting the seconds, and watching the stack ascend, which as of now was following a typical flight plan, blissfully unaware of the chaos it was about to endure. After a few seconds in eternity, the call would come for booster flame-out and jettison. The stack would erupt into a plume of smoke as three of the boosters fired their separator motors and pulled away. Instantly recognizing the fault, Kite and Vega began preparing to make their respective exits, only waiting for the functional boosters to safely clear. Almost immediately, the call would come through, “Booster three, failure to separate! Kite, go for E-RTLS! Abort! Abort!” and with the momentary firing of the abort motors, unseating the pins holding the two giants together, Kite would shut down her center engine, slightly nose up, and lurch off of Vega. With her limited supply of fuel, Kite began swiftly sliding away from Vega and soon stabilized herself in time for the flame-out of her remaining two engines. She would follow her arc, performing a slow and graceful roll over to bring herself back upright and begin her glide back to the SLF.

    Untitled_41.png

    Vega, now free of the orbiter, began her own series of events, rotating to align the failed booster with Kite’s former position and continued carrying it uphill, jettisoning it higher in the atmosphere. Kite’s descent would go as well as any normal return to Earth, rolling to her first wheel-stop at the SLF. Vega, meanwhile, had reached her once-around orbit and was now drifting free, soon executing a normal return setting down next to her launch site at LC-39A.
     
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    Chapter 11: Terror From the Deep
  • I think it's chapter time again, so it's time for some fun. Much like last chapter, I had a lot of fun with this one. A definite thanks to defconh3ck for this one with the upcoming science missions for the program. Also, Midterm has passed and now begins the season of three different final projects at the same time, I don't know of any issues that will cause this whole thing, but it may take time away from working on it at some point. With that out of the way though, enjoy this one:

    Chapter 11: Terror From the Deep

    With Kite back on the ground and a few more UTS missions now behind it, the program had begun to hit its stride, reaching five missions flown in 2015. Now in the latter end of 2016, the buffer manifest had been wrapped up, Polaris had returned, and LTBF now stood on its own feet. The last part of the year would hold a lot for NASA, in both launches and other missions yet ready to fly. Starting with the upcoming launch of OSIRIS-REx aboard Phoenix-Firelight 4, which was beginning preparations for launch.

    Elsewhere, the first wave of Mars orbiters in support of the Aurora program, Mirage and Oasis, were nearing the end of assembly, running just short of schedule. Preparations were also starting for the next rounds of Mars-bound spacecraft aiming to set up a communication network for the red planet. The network was divided into two parts, three areostationary orbiters for constant ground coverage and an eccentric polar relay providing a nearly-constant link to DSN ground stations back on Earth. Requests for proposals were also going out with NASA seeking an easily configurable small lander to scout future Martian landing sites as well as field test some supporting hardware such as communication equipment.

    At Kennedy, Traveler had arrived bringing the Phoenix orbital fleet up to four. The fledgling orbiter would be immediately whisked away to start getting ready for her first flight, Aurora I. This mission was a long time coming and would be the first mission of the promised fast-track back to the Lunar surface and the first crewed Lunar flight aboard Phoenix. The mission hoped to send a test model of the Firelight-DAL with Traveler around the Moon testing handling and crew ingress/egress procedures after backing down from a full lander in the interest of time. The Aurora I Firelight-DAL would be lacking landing legs and the behind schedule engines responsible for the “dual-axis” part,. The stage would remain unfueled and would not depart from Phoenix this time, being only moved around using the orbiter’s two robotic arms, but it would be essential in preparing for the next flight of Aurora, which would conduct a free-flight and an uncrewed landing with a full lander.

    In September, Wayfarer-Tauri rose into the sky carrying OSIRIS-REx on the first leg of her mission, christening LC-39C in the process. After reaching the Earth-departure orbit, teams would assess the probe’s readiness and begin a new countdown to separation of the Firelight 4 to carry the mission away from home. It would take two attempts over a twelve hour period, but eventually the stage would get the all clear, be released from the strongback, and drift silently away from Wayfarer as the crew onboard watched and documented the departure. Julia Knight, payload specialist for the mission, would remark as the stage began making its way into the distance, “There’s almost a personal touch to being here with her as she floats off that you just don’t get from a typical launch, watching from miles or maybe states away.” For the crew of Wayfarer, Firelight’s ignition and departure would be visible as a spot of light in the distance. The stage would soon burn through her fuel and let go of her payload, quietly slipping away into solar orbit, having completed her job. The success of Firelight-4 gave NASA confidence in their upcoming efforts with Aurora, paving the way for the stage’s Lunar debut.

    While the earliest phase of Aurora was progressing nicely, other aspects were certainly still taking their time. The agreement that would allow the joint production of the nuclear-thermal engines intended for the MTV’s still sat mired in the expected political gridlock, though slow progress was being made. One step at a time, both NASA and Roscosmos were certain the agreement would make it, but when was a different question entirely. In the meantime, another smaller agreement had made it through the cracks in the meantime to fly cosmonauts on Aurora missions in hopes of further intertwining the agency into the program. This agreement would come as Roscosmos was gearing up for the first test flight of Kliper, having recently completed the first flight vehicle and aiming to dock to the ISS in early 2017.

    Along with the other progress towards Aurora, the next steps towards the supporting spacecraft for the program were being taken, with Highbay 3 gearing up for the orbital flight test of Leviathan. Polaris along with both the Seabound and Baybound LRB groups were being joined together while some new acquaintances waited their turn. Not yet in the VAB, but preparing for their respective stacking operations nearby were the Universal Nosecone Barrel, Firelight 8 interstage, Firelight 8, and the 8.4m diameter payload fairing to top off the stack. Being the first lifter of the program to fly with an upper stage, LC-39A was already in the process of preparing as well, running through mock countdowns and umbilical arm retractions.

    In the run-up to an ISS resupply and crew rotation, the new monster crept out of the VAB into the Florida winter air. NASA’s first true superheavy rocket in just short of half a century, Leviathan, finally got her chance to see the light of day as a fully assembled stack. Even with her shared components, she looked like a new beast all her own. Sitting at around 110 meters tall and carrying more power than any before her, she was an intimidating sight. Creeping slowly down the crawlerway, the monolithic vessel made its way to LC-39A to revive the legacy of power once belonging to the Saturn V. After getting her time in the spotlight alongside Voyager-Vega and her departure for the ISS on the adjacent LC-39B, Leviathan lit her engines starting with the LRB’s and then the core. The dust that had settled in the flame trench was ejected as she lurched upwards. After just over two minutes of flight, Leviathan put on a show like no other as her boosters flamed out and fired their motors to clear the ascending core creating a blooming flower of fire and smoke, preemptively dubbed by engineers as “Leviathan’s Lotus”.

    Untitled_46.png

    Leviathan OFT-1 Mission Patch
    Several minutes later, Polaris’s engines would silence and the Firelight 8 would spring free of the interstage, drifting off momentarily before starting her twin J-2X’s, their first time in space. The massive stage would speed away from Polaris towards a trans-lunar injection, hoping to swing around the Moon before returning to Earth for a fiery demise. Meanwhile, Polaris spun around to ditch the UNB/interstage combo before rotating back, performing a burn to place her on a return back to KSC, and rotating once more to her cruising attitude while she waited for her reentry. With the stunning reentry, now common to the UCS, Polaris approached the switchback portion of her descent over the Atlantic. Something peculiar happened this time though, a scene planed for, but one most hoped to never see. What was an eternity to flight controllers lasted a mere few seconds. Instead of beginning to fall engine-first back towards KSC, Polaris began to nose down as she failed to stabilize in the new direction of travel. Without missing a beat, Polaris sent the command to deploy the drogue chute that had sat so far unused in her storied career. The cover shot off, and with it came the furled chute which quickly reached the full length of its harness, unfolding and expanding to its full size. With a jerk, the drogue pulled Polaris’s nose up and held it there for a moment. Now stabilized engine-first, Polaris cut the chute free and continued her fall back to LC-39A, eventually coming to rest safely on the ground.
     
    Chapter 12: Strangers to Gene
  • Well, well, well, if it isn't Moon time! This time around we've got a couple of things going on that have been on the way for a while. I don't have anything else, so thanks to defconh3ck who is responsible for the name of this one (among many other things) and enjoy:

    Chapter 12: Strangers to Gene

    Back on the ground in one piece, Polaris was whisked away for some more in depth inspections than normal. While use of the drogue was expected at some point, engineers were eager to get a look at the results and see if expectations for its use had panned out. Much to their relief, other than the obvious absence of the cover and drogue chute, Polaris was just as healthy as ever. The Firelight 8, however, was in a considerably worse state. Having completed her mission and reaching all of her test goals, the upper stage streaked across the sky over the Pacific Ocean as one final show of success.

    A seemingly mundane launch would be the next to go up, Voyager was planned to head up to the ISS for a cargo run, but this time she would stick around a little while longer. Roscosmos was ready to launch their first Kliper, Zhizn, to the station and this resupply run gave the perfect opportunity to photograph the small spaceplane in a fly-around survey of the station upon Voyager’s departure. Separated by half a world, Voyager-Vega and Zhizn, atop its carrier Soyuz, prepared for their respective flights. Voyager-Vega would go first with a launch just after sundown, leaving the booster jettison plume brilliantly illuminated in the high-altitude sun. Within a day of Voyager’s arrival at the station, the Soyuz carrier rocket would rise away from Baikonur and set Zhizn on the way to meet with the Zvezda module. Zhizn would soon arrive, approaching the station and lining up for a docking attempt. She made it on her second try after having to back off from a perceived guidance issue after she had strayed a bit from center. In reality, Zhizn would have recovered if not interrupted, but an “abundance of caution” approach was deemed best for the first run.

    The flight was heralded as a great step forward for Roscosmos, giving the ISS and possibly other future projects a lifeboat and eventually a new crew vehicle. With the new spacecraft safely aboard the station, the crew of Voyager said their goodbyes and began their departure from the station. Once safely away, Voyager began her trip around the station, getting imagery of Zhizn and made her way home. A week later Zhizn would make her own exit from the station, powering through reentry and touching down back at Baikonur.

    Back in Florida, NASA had done its best to resurrect the energy of the Apollo program as the time for Aurora I approached. Though just a test flight, it would be the first time humans orbited the Moon in almost forty years. Traveler had been in preparation and inspection procedures since her arrival at the Cape. Finally free of the OPF, Traveler made her way to the VAB to join Tauri, the Seabound boosters, and her drop tanks. After a healthy dose of public events at both KSC and around the world hosted by the program’s many partners and a scrub from bad weather, Traveler-Tauri took to the sky carrying her compliment of seven astronauts and stripped back Firelight-DAL.

    Eventually, Tauri would shut down her engines, letting Traveler fly free, and started her return journey. This would be the first high-energy flight of the system since the loss of Copernicus and the first full trial run of the subsequent retrofits. As the time to reentry ticked down, Tauri would see the nominal boil-off rate the retrofits had anticipated. She would soon streak across the sky on her way home, coming safely to rest at LC-39B.

    Now that Traveler was into her coast phase, her crew doffed their recovery suits and made their way to the flight deck windows for a marvelous sight. While they looked down at the Earth, they got a chance to see Tauri, her reentry trail almost too thin to see, as she raced over the U.S. towards Florida. Looking forward, the Moon hung ahead of the crew, silently awaiting the arrival of visitors not seen in so many years. On the way out, the stripped back lander received its name Stranger. Though it would never see the surface, the internals were there and it would be invaluable in preparing for future missions.

    As the Lunar surface became closer and closer, Traveler executed her capture burn and pulled herself into a low orbit. Once safely there, the crew would soon take in their first Earthrise as they prepared for a rest period. Next up on their list was the primary goal of the mission, retrieval of Stranger from the payload bay. The strongback would soon rotate Stranger up and Traveler’s twin robotic arms got to work grappling the lander. This was a somewhat awkward operation, as typically a Firelight 4 would just be sent straight forward and out of the strongback’s grasp. Due to the need to load crew onto the lander prior to departure, however, the arms would instead pull the stage out of the strongback and rotate it to meet the orbiter’s docking port. With careful control and monitoring from crews both onboard Traveler and in Houston, Stranger was slowly plucked from the strongback and reoriented to the docking port.

    After some working with the docking ports, the hatch was opened and a few crew members would make their way into Stranger. While it had its difficulties in development, the Orion command module the crew were now eagerly working to start up, had turned out to be a wonderful asset to the program. While its typical "capsule" purpose had more or less stripped from it, the new responsibilities it took on as a part of the Firelight-DAL had more than made up the gap.

    Stranger would remain docked for the duration of the Lunar stay as crews worked through multiple dry runs of the various operations the spacecraft would have to endure. Eventually, the time would come to head home, hatches would be closed and Traveler would bring her arms in to place the stage back into the strongback. With one last look around, the orbiter would light the OMS engines and place herself into the return trajectory and soon her drop tanks were set free, tumbling away from the orbiter from their small jettison motors. Much like Voyager’s trip on PTC-2, this section of the mission incurred the most concern and the orbiter would once again target Edwards AFB for the Lunar return. After the multiple reentry passes, Traveler would race over the Pacific on her final approach and touchdown safely at Edwards, her drogue chute deploying without complication, and came to a smooth wheel stop.

    After sitting in the blazing sun for a while the crew were finally able to disembark to a reception fit for the occasion. NASA’s Lunar return was here and somewhat back on track, once again targeting a landing in 2020. It was still anyone’s guess as to whether or not NASA would make that date, but the date sliding back to the original range instead of past it was a promising sign either way.
     
    Chapter 13: Mars in Sight
  • Wow, this week sucked! Here we are though, all I have left between me and winter break is one final I effectively can't fail and and some final projects I have a week and a half to wrap up. That in mind I'm going to go ahead and say that the next chapter is going to be in three weeks instead of the usual two just so I can get the semester finished out, then we'll be back to our regularly scheduled mayhem. In any case, the worst is over, so thanks to defconh3ck for a lot of the stuff in this one and lets get going, not a lot of launches, but some fun none the less!

    Chapter 13: Mars in Sight

    Aurora had begun and confidence in Phoenix and other variants of the UCS-LV was growing rapidly and with the entrance of 2018, non-program launches were entering the manifest for the program. Leading the charge was GOES-S, lining up for a launch in March. Other mainstays of the old STS program were set to return as well, with ESA beginning work on new Spacelab elements for the higher-flying Phoenix. The many newcomers to the program were set to substantially increase flight rates for the program, possibly pushing towards ten launches per year and, depending on who you asked, more than even that. Regardless of what the elevated rate would be, it appeared LC-39C had arrived just in time to meet demand.

    Other arrivals aimed to keep the pace as well, with UCS Altair and the Mons LRB group, consisting of Olympus, Arsia, Pavonis, and Ascraeus, beginning the new series of boosters named after Martian surface features. Coming in from Palmdale was Adventurer, the last of the current series of orbiters. The new arrivals were already assigned missions, having little time to sit around after reaching the Cape. Michoud still had one more UCS and booster group to produce before settling their operations to just maintenance and Block 1 production, this “last batch” was underway and expected to fill out the KSC fleet within the next two years. Palmdale would not be out of business either, serving as a facility for major maintenance operations on the running fleet that could not be completed at Kennedy, but the next series of orbiters were entering the scene.

    The new series would be a strange product of Aurora’s plans for Mars, which were rapidly approaching a final form. Major design choices had been mostly cemented and the truly colossal machine had been refined from its previous state. Consisting of a massive truss structure acting as a spine for the vessel, which would be constructed onto the propulsion segment after the twin UCS’s that comprised the segment had been joined on orbit. Two more UCS’s would sit in front of the propulsion segment, acting as drop tanks. For the crewed MTV, all four propellant UCS stages would have their LOX tanks removed prior to assembly and would have a wet-workshop UCS for crew habitation on the front. The cargo variant would keep the LOX tanks on the drop tanks in order to provide propellant to the hydrolox descent stage of the Martian landers, of which the cargo MTV’s would carry two in the “double-barrel” arrangement instead of the crew segment. Concerns about redundancy had yielded two interesting additions to the architecture. First was the introduction of MTV Deliverance, a cut down version of the crewed MTV, which lacked the drop tanks, that would go to Mars ahead of crewed missions and serve as a safe haven in the event of major damage or loss of the primary MTV during a stay at Mars. MTV Deliverance would not have the ability to return home, however, which led to the second addition, the Deep Space Orbiters. These orbiters would hold many responsibilities during these missions and would tag along with the crewed MTV’s, being attached to the forward docking port. Among many other things, it would serve as a “bridge” for the MTV, additional hab space in a similar manner to the new Spacelab modules, and as a lifeboat. In order to fulfill the last requirement, the vessel would need to be almost an MTV of its own, having hydrogen drop tanks, twin Boreal engines in place of the typical OHS pods, radiators to help manage the various heat-related needs of the orbiter this far from home, additional radiation shielding (both for the sun and the engines), and much more. For now, the Boreal pods were the last bottleneck, but that would not stop crews at Palmdale from getting ready.

    To the fortune of the program and the DSO’s, in March of 2018, the labyrinth of red tape finally cleared. In the process BWX Technologies had been selected as the primary contractor of the US contribution to the project with direct involvement and oversight from NASA. The only thing left to do was to get the agreement signed. The final two signatories, NASA administrator Chris Stryker and Roscosmos director Andrey Vladikov met at the facility where the Russian reactor would be assembled with the rest of the engine in Virginia. Teams on both sides of the world began almost immediately, with NASA and BWX engineers already in Russia ready to start as soon as the go ahead came through. From the perspective of NASA and Roscosmos there was no time to lose, the agreement had taken a long time to make it through and the sooner they could start, the better. RSC Energia had decided to attempt to get a jumpstart on the program prior to the agreement's approval. While cooperation was not yet allowed, RSC Energia engineers knew the engine would ideally fit in the RS-25E engine sockets on NASA’s UCS stage and began roughing out the engine. When the time came for cooperation to commence, the engine’s core was of course nowhere near complete, but RSC Energia’s gamble would pay off, putting the engine well ahead of the expected schedule.

    With the first MTV now appearing over the horizon, Aurora was about to split straight down the middle, with half of the program focusing on Lunar access and the other focusing on paving the way for MTV construction. A multitude of hurdles faced the latter, namely long duration fuel storage for both the MTV’s and the depots that would be needed to fuel them prior to departure and the spine structure that would cradle the MTV’s various segments. The spine would be tackled by General Dynamics, who had been selected by their previous experience with the concept of automated construction of large structures on orbit. The design would need to change, but the overall idea would remain. Instead of triangular trusses, the beam builder would need to make something stronger to construct a structure subjected to the dynamic loads of an MTV, the unit would weld steel plates brought up by Phoenix to form the box beams that would be the primary structure of the spine.

    In order to move and place these beams in their final positions once constructed, Canada’s next contribution would come into play. Building off their previous RMS designs, a stronger arm was being developed to aid construction of both the MTV’s and other structures.

    Fuel would be a different hurdle altogether and would be handled in part by Boeing, utilizing the Block 1 UCS as depots. Thankfully, this end already had the ball rolling. A-DAPT had spent its time on orbit well, mostly doing research for habitation purposes, but it also provided useful information for depot development as well. Keeping the momentum, Michoud was already in the process of constructing the next Block 1 with a few new additions. While A-DAPT was almost a clean UCS with only a few exceptions, this Block 1, the Interplanetary Cryogenics Experiment (ICE), would have a lot more. The two most notable additions were the “saddlebag” and the “crown” modules. The saddlebags were somewhat similar in appearance to the side mounted payload structures seen in various Shuttle studies, but somewhat longer as it wouldn’t need the propulsion section common to those designs. For ICE, this saddlebag would contain the radiator and attitude control system, among many other things. The crown would be LTBF’s equivalent to the Aft Cargo Carrier system, though with the engines on UCS being in the way, a relocation was needed. As the name implied, this new location was on top of the stage, supported by the UNB typically used to support upper stage adapters. ICE’s crown would contain plumbing necessary for fuel transfer, along with twin solar arrays that would provide the structure with its power. Three docking ports would also be on the crown, the first would be a structural-only APAS port for visiting Phoenix orbiters, the other two would be a new variant of the APAS. These ports would contain umbilicals derived from those used for Firelight 4 stages for fuel transfer between the tankers and the depot. In the beginning, “tankers” would be a Phoenix orbiter with a tank in its payload bay with the fueling port on its back, though a much larger tanker was in the works to fly aboard Leviathan for operational use.

    The current target for ICE was 2020, with the bottlenecks being the two additional modules. Even with the slowdowns, the mission was well on the way and the beam builder was gathering steam.
     
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    Chapter 14: Up to Speed
  • I've got a short one today, partly due to Christmas weekend and partly due to being gone for part of the week on a work trip, but it's here! Thanks for the patience over the end of the semester, after this chapter we should be back to every other week like before. Thanks to defconh3ck and enjoy the chapter and the holidays:

    Chapter 14: Up to Speed

    With 2018 still underway, things around KSC continued to be busy. Stranger had received a heavy lookover prior to being sent back to ULA for a couple of interesting reasons. Consisting of a functional Firelight 4, the stage could still be potentially used for other missions and was set to be removed from the assembly to look into such an option. Something similar was in mind for the command module as well, it was still a fully functional capsule. With Aurora II lining up for 2019, Stranger’s CM would find its way onto the Firelight-DAL for the flight. NASA had somewhat altered the flight plan of Aurora II in the meantime. Originally aiming to send three astronauts on a Lunar free-flight, Aurora II would now send the lander on an autonomous landing attempt. The crewed free-flight test would instead manifest itself as a longer loiter in Lunar orbit before the landing of Aurora III.

    Aurora III was still eyeing the end of 2020 for launch. Mission plans were falling into place as well, with landing sites being identified. The primary site was Taurus–Littrow, the site of Apollo 17. This decision, of course, came mostly out of PR, but being a test flight, there was very little lined up for major surface activities. NASA had decided that, so long as they had one mission where they had very little in the way of taking or leaving anything, they may as well use it for an observation for the old site and pick up right where Apollo left off.

    Turning back to the Mars side of Aurora, things were going well with Mirage and Oasis. Testing of the two spacecraft was wrapping up prior to their delivery to KSC. The two spacecraft were both aiming to launch on Phoenix-Firelight 4’s in mid-2020 and would launch relatively close to each other. If everything went according to current plans, both carrier orbiters would be in orbit at the same time, launching potentially within a day of each other. For NASA the missions would represent a major step towards joint missions for the orbiters as teams would get an excellent chance to see how operating multiple orbiters simultaneously would work.

    With 2018 only being half-done, Phoenix had already launched four times, as many times as it had in the entirety of 2017. This flight rate came as expected, given the new arrivals in addition to opening Phoenix to commercial opportunities. With the exception of two, it looked like commercial launches would occupy Phoenix’s manifest for the year while Aurora II materialized on the ground. Some of these flights weren’t purely commercial, though. As Aurora marched on, Phoenix regularly hosted small demonstrations or tests for upcoming equipment. NASA also brought back the Getaway Special along with these flights.

    Another aid in Aurora’s tool box was now on its way as well. The fly-back Block 3 UCS had passed its final review work and was expected to begin production as soon as a purchase agreement was settled on. Michoud was already making room for the new assembly area, which had been converted from one of the two bays for the Block 2. The remaining Block 2 bay would be kept in place for maintenance on the existing fleet and initial construction of the Block 1 stages. This new arrangement would likely stay as few new Block 3’s would be built and new UCS stages afterwards would hopefully not be needed. At this stage both bays would serve for maintenance.

    Back at the Cape, ULA was working steadily towards their upcoming Vulcan rocket, aiming to launch by the end of 2019. Construction of the new mobile launcher and modifications to the SLC-41 launch pad were underway. Still spurred on by the Air Force, the vehicle was gaining a commercial footing as well, racking up contracts well in advance. As a way to raise the flight rate, Vulcan was also pursuing reuse of the engines via jettisoning the engine compartment and recovering it downrange. The Air Force was not overwhelmingly interested in this capability for their missions and resultantly requested expendable flights until the system was well understood.
     
    Chapter 15: First Contact of a Lone Stranger
  • Sorry I'm late, I was building a new PC. It's 2019 time which means it's Aurora II time! I won't stall any longer and I will get the formatting tomorrow provided it doesn't drift wistfully from my mind as it likely will, so thanks to defconh3ck and wahoo,

    Chapter 15: First Contact of a Lone Stranger

    Rolling into 2019, Kliper Zhizn once again stood atop a Soyuz in preparation for another orbital flight. This flight would be part test and part operational mission. Zhizn would fly to the ISS and begin her first long duration stay. During this stay, she would take on her primary role as a lifeboat while Roscosmos evaluated her condition throughout the stay. This mission would be the transient step between her current state of testing and her future state of acting as a permanent asset to the space station program. With the ignition of the Soyuz, Zhizn was on her way. She arrived with no trouble this time and attached to the station’s Pirs module. It would not be long after her arrival ceremony that crews would begin working to prepare her for the long stay, doing some additional testing on the way.

    Zhizn’s arrival would come shortly before news regarding the ISS. In pursuit of the UCS converted crew module for Aurora’s MTV’s, NASA, in conjunction with ISS partners, announced that the station would host the conversion of a UCS stage into a habitable volume. This new structure would more than double the station’s internal volume. In order to protect the station and its ability to maneuver, the Poisk module would be removed and the UCS would be attached parallel to the existing modules with the truss segment between them. Struts would also be added by EVA’s in order to further brace the structure as a whole. Detailed reports were released alongside the expansion’s announcement that showed data from the still ongoing A-DAPT. The drifting Block 1 UCS had successfully carried out its long-term study of the stage’s ability to hold pressure. With this report, however, came the intention for A-DAPT’s decommissioning. The stage was running low on propellant and leaving the stage on orbit uncontrolled posed risks such as fragmentation of the stage or an unplanned fall from orbit. The plan would have the UCS depressurize and receive a visit from a Phoenix in order to perform a detailed inspection of the exterior, searching for MMOD damage and other points of interest.This would likely take place in early 2020 as research wrapped up.

    The beginning of summer would see Wayfarer-Altair with the Seabound LRB’s roll out to the pad carrying Stranger. This time Stranger was a full-blown lander, fully equipped and ready for an uncrewed landing attempt on the Lunar surface. The stack would roll down the Crawlerway on the back of Resolute with the crew of Aurora II tagging along for the ride. Three days later, Aurora II started the journey to Lunar orbit, thundering into the Florida night sky. The trip would nearly be a mirror image to Aurora I. Once safely in Lunar orbit, Stranger’s fuel tanks were topped off and she was carefully plucked from the payload bay. Stranger would then be berthed to Wayfarer for a quick final look over before being raised away and released. The sight of the lander drifting away would be a mixture of anticipation of Aurora III and worry for the lander’s first run. The first post-release hurdle soon passed as the two circular solar arrays deployed and locked successfully before Stranger and Wayfarer disappeared around the far side of the Moon. With the next Earthrise came the first of two burns for Stranger, placing her on a sub-orbital trajectory towards her selected landing site of Mare Serenitatis. The next burn would come as Stranger approached her target, slowing her horizontal velocity and placing her on a near vertical path towards the surface. Given the RL-10’s track record these burns were not a large concern of flight controllers, but the next and final burn was. Right before shutdown of the RL-10, the RCS fired and the engine gimbaled, placing the lander in an orientation perpendicular to her travel. Stranger coasted for a few seconds before firing up the sixteen small, side-mounted thrusters that were sitting in groups of four at each corner. To flight controllers’ relief, all engines started with no immediate issues, but this would soon change as two engines in one quadrant detected a surge of fuel and shut down. Stranger wasted no time in shutting down two other engines on the opposite quadrant to balance her descent. Only needing half of her engines for a landing the loss of four was acceptable. After the tense moments that followed, Stranger touched down safely, now resting quietly on the surface. Both controllers and the crew of Wayfarer would erupt with cheers as Stranger’s cameras began looking around the site. It was a day too long in the making.

    Her stay would be short, but far from boring as crews took the chance to run as many tests on the vehicle as they could. It was decided that it would be best to leave the engines that had been shut off during landing in a closed off state for the return to orbit and crews would be able to get a good look at any lasting issues when the lander returned home. As Wayfarer started to come over the horizon, Stranger once again fired her side-mounted engines, rising off the ground before igniting her RL-10 and starting the climb to meet with Wayfarer once again. After the ascent, Stranger came slowly into Wayfarer’s view, puffing various thrusters to keep on track. Eventually, Wayfarer reached out her arms and took hold of the stage, maneuvering her once more to Wayfarer’s docking module. The crew would once more venture into the lander where mission commander, Steve Meyer, would take a marker and put a tally mark on the wall of the command module to signify a successful landing for the vehicle with the hopes of many more to come. Once the crews had done some closeout and other tasks, Stranger was loaded back into her cradle in the payload bay and residual propellants were removed from the stage before she was rotated back into the bay.

    With the time for departure at hand Wayfarer burned out of the grasp of Lunar orbit, ejecting her depleted drop tanks to their fiery end. Wayfarer made her way through the nearly week-long return process, lowering back to Earth one re-entry pass at a time. With her last pass, she hurdled over California, casting her sonic booms into the previously calm morning below. Under escort from two T-38’s, Wayfarer touched down at Edwards AFB, deploying her drogue chute and coming to rest. It would not take long after the vehicle was declared safe to approach for the gathered crowd to descend on the vessel. A brief interview with the crew followed where the crew was asked how they felt about being so close to landing on the surface, but unable to go, lander pilot, Julie Lee, responded by saying, “I’ll admit, I’m a little jealous of Stranger getting to go without us, but we’ll be back for that journey sometime soon. I’m not sure when that will be, but I’m already looking forward to it.”
     
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