I'm so honored and thankful that I can bring this project to life, and I can't wait to share the epilogue with you all... stay tuned!
Proxima: A Human Exploration of Mars
- Thread starter defconh3ck
- Start date
Epilogue
There is not much to say, except for we can't go back. Musical credits for this final piece go to Ben as always, for their fantastic work which you can listen to here. Thank you all, as I've said time and time again, and I will see you on the Horizon. Let us begin.
Epilogue
Noctis Labyrinth
Douglass Outpost
November 15, 2055
Waking up every morning on another planet had been surreal, but I had slowly found myself getting used to it. Every day, as the sun glinted off the rocks in the canyons to our west, I would be reminded of how truly strange it was here. An isolated, barren ball of dust, littered with the remnants of robots and our first phases of exploration - not even 350 humans in the system yet, compared to the Moon’s 2,500 and rapidly growing. Mars, despite its hostility, had welcomed us in some ways. The dust storms had been relatively tame this year, resulting in us only needing to clean the exterior sensors and solar arrays every 4 days instead of 2. Our discovery of Aquifer 1C in the region late last year had boosted our water reserves, enabling a continuous presence of 70 crewmen on this station alone - a blessing in itself. Douglass Outpost, formerly Foundation, stood proudly in the center of Noctis, a gleaming mini-city on the planet’s surface. It had grown considerably since its founding all those years ago, greenhouses and lab spaces sprawled outwards from its central spire, built up in modular increments sent from Earth and more recently, indigenously constructed. This kind of production had been pioneered on the Moon, and had trickled its way down to us lowly Martians. The monotony of days inside was broken by the rumbling of the printing robots, moving across the landscape to tend to their careful constructions. I had only been here 4 months, and I could already tell that there was a real sense of pride that folks here had. The first of 5 permanent bases, and there was a real sense of pride in everything we accomplished. I had arrived onboard the Kepler, Europe’s third transfer vehicle off the line, assembled in the new NRHO facility with components manufactured on the lunar surface. Industry was really picking up there, and working on this dust ball seemed like a second tier position to building up a genuine city on the Moon. But Mars called, and I answered.
As morning broke over the facility, I received my assignment for the day, a six hour maximum EVA to inspect a “site of geological interest,” - Aquifer 10C6. The job was simple, relatively speaking. Traverse out on foot to the work site, and get started on exploring one of the new aquifers that had been detected with the collapse of the lava tube. It was a short walk, less than two miles, something more than doable in the ARES II suits that had been brought up on the last rotation flight. They were designed to be easier on the body, lighter and made of more shock absorbing materials so we didn’t end up with scrapes and bruises on our knees and elbows every time we would kneel to pick up a rock. Relief from the aging ARES IB suits couldn’t come soon enough, and when the Chinese Tianzhou Cargo MTV arrived, we had been so eager to get our hands on suit parts that we’d forgotten the personal items. Given how familiar we were with the terrain, the buddy rule had been waived - we could proceed outwards on our own, and we were close enough to the complex that any rescue work could be done fairly quickly, one of the luxuries in being stationed here as opposed to the other facilities scattered across the planet. I proceeded out of the Lodge, what we referred to as the primary living space, and headed out through the maze of hallways and laboratories to the suit up room. In kind words, it was basically just a locker room and storage facility, filled with the comings and goings of those who stepped out onto the surface every day. Suitup was quick, we generally had the routine of getting into and out of our armored exoskeletons down pat, slipping through the suitport door into my mobile spacecraft. With a hiss, my body would be free from the structure, and I could begin my trek to the worksite, accompanied by a variety of robotic helpers. I didn’t mind the walk, for it gave me a moment to be alone with my thoughts. I put on some Steely Dan, and made it a point to enjoy my morning.
As the structures of the base faded from view, I found myself once again in touch with the planet. There was a certain degree of removal that was deliberate in the design of the base, trying to give us the impression of home rather than a desolate wasteland. My comrades would complain that the redness of the soil would alter their vision, but I enjoyed all the time I could spend outside - within radiation limits of course. The muted blues and greens felt… somehow too artificial, even surrounded by the creeping plants that grew in the corridors. The desert called to me, as if it knew something I didn’t, inviting me out into its harsh embrace to learn something, to challenge my notion of this world around me. Perhaps Mars still had her secrets. After about 45 minutes of walking, I arrived at the worksite, marked on my heads up display by a glowing green arrow. There wasn’t much here, just a narrow opening in the walls of the cliff face, leading to some great unknown that I couldn’t see. Something… Something about it unsettled me. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Carefully, I knelt down and opened the cases of tools and robotic equipment that I carried, my Mule load lifter quad-bot kneeling down to act as my tool case. These robots were extensions of us, tools that broadened our reach to our environment around us. First up was the rotocraft, a small, lightweight helicopter that would act as my first scout, hoping to enter the aquifer and scout how much water could lay inside. My helmet had a small plug, which I connected to a console inside the case - my link to the eyes of the aircraft. With a swirl of dust, UAV-1 was up, and would translate forward into the narrow opening, its infrared and ultraviolet eyes scanning the environment around it. It was… Warmer in here than I expected, and I took a moment to log the temperature. Water ice sat comfortably on the ceiling, dripping down in icicles like ice caves on Earth. We had seen this before, but… Something felt different. I swiveled the camera and flipped on the powerful LED lamps, proceeding further down the tunnel. Something caught my eye, laying on the floor. Wait - what is that? I stood up, my heart rate increasing. An invisible hand sat wrapped around my throat, and I struggled to remember to breathe. The aircraft bucked, slamming into the wall of the cave, and disappeared from my link. Confused, I stood from my kneeling position, and took three tentative steps towards the opening. Protocol required us, if at all possible, to retrieve equipment - but every ancient instinct in my body said to not go in there. Something was wrong, fundamentally wrong with the way this was playing out. I stood there for a few moments, pondering the nature of what I was about to do, logged my position, and prepared to enter the narrow passageway.
It was just wide enough for my suit, the broad armored shoulders scraping against the weathered sandstone. Dust hung in the air, clinging to my suit’s visor with its electrostatic grip. I brushed it off as I ventured further down the passageway, feeling the corridor constrict all around me. Minutes felt like hours as I proceeded further, and I struggled to keep my cool - despite training as an astronaut, I really hated tight spaces. An alarm sprung up on my suit, not an internal problem, but… A trace gas warning? Something was different about the environment here, oxygen, carbon and methane levels were higher here. This was entirely not normal - nothing had the ability to generate gasses in this volume. Nothing that we knew of. My gaze remained so locked on the screens on my wrist that I nearly lost my footing as I encountered UAV-1, laying twisted on its side in the chamber, lights still flickering weakly. I felt… Frightened. For the first time in so long, I felt so deeply afraid, paralyzed by a fear of the unknown that I had not felt in so long. Like a child facing a nightmare. Slowly, I cast my headlamps across the chamber, puddles of water sitting on the floor. Liquid water… Liquid water this close to the surface had never been observed like this before. It was impossible… Wasn’t it? I stepped closer, my reflection distorted behind the suit and in the hazy, dusty void of the cavern. Movement. My proximity alarm tripped, a small ping on the right side of my helmet. What the fuck? Where- I lost my balance, my suit rocking forward and landing me firmly in the puddle. Mud coated my faceplate, and I struggled to right myself. I was blind, cold, and alone - deep underground somewhere. For a moment, I remained still, imagining the sounds of the cave. A wet, cold drip, something… present. Something new. Warning, high heart rate - rest as needed. The biometric alarms would no doubt be triggering back at the base, if they could hear me at all, and I managed to get myself onto my feet. That’s when I saw it. A hexagonal structure, seeming to ebb and flow with the movement of the universe around it - I felt it watching me. I stood, moving slowly so as not to startle it… It was clear that whatever it was, it startled easily, and fried the UAV. It seemed to stare back at me, no longer threatened. It seemed to only observe, watching slowly with its non-existent eyes. The rigid hexagonal towers that rose from it seemed so artificial, and yet, reminded me of the great steps of the Giant’s Causeway on Earth. So familiar and yet so different. I found myself speechless, my chest tight with something, not fear but… Wonder. And then it hit me - I was the only one who knew. The only one who knew that this thing existed. The only human, across any part of settled space, that knew that something was fundamentally different. That we were not alone. My heartrate started to creep up again, and I shakily held up my hand. The… Thing - it moved. It raised a column of green and gray in response. It understood me… What I was, perhaps not, but there was a degree of understanding present. My god, we were not alone after all.
I had to run, for there was no turning back. I documented what I could, wiping the mud from my helmet cams, and turned towards the opening, eager to see the light of day again. The walls of the cave seemed tighter, and I struggled against the restriction of the chasm as I made my way out. All I could think of was getting out. On my hands and knees, I crawled up the sloping dunes and found myself where I had been before the world had changed, a moment of rebirth into the harsh desert of the planet. Terra Nova. I craned my neck as I struggled to stand, looking for the lights of the base in the distance. I had to run. My heart felt as though it was straining to keep up, and I started to run, leaving my equipment behind. Now, out of the cave, communications were restored and I could hear the chatter of the human race once more, so blissfully unaware that change was coming. I stumbled in the shifting sand, sweat stinging my eyes. There was no going back. No way to move beyond this. I had to run - the sole bearer of information that would alter humanity forever. If there was a God, perhaps he would be kind to our species, and set us on the right path. My bones, weakened by the lack of gravity, would ache as I continued my trek, but I didn’t care. My lungs and heart screamed at me, and the tunnel vision of exhaustion crept into my field of view, suffocating me like the cave had. Voice after voice filled my ears as I got closer to the base, asking me why I had slipped from view, why my suit was stained red with the iron rich mud of the planet. I didn’t care, my world and my ideas of normality slipped from me. I had to tell someone, and soon. The doors of the base, sealed against the harsh elements of the planet, were all that stood in between me and the rest of humanity, but I was determined to go through them. For there was no way back. Only forward, onto a horizon heretofore unseen. God help us all - for the dawn of some new era was upon us. With as much force as I could muster, I began to pound on the door.
Epilogue
Noctis Labyrinth
Douglass Outpost
November 15, 2055
Waking up every morning on another planet had been surreal, but I had slowly found myself getting used to it. Every day, as the sun glinted off the rocks in the canyons to our west, I would be reminded of how truly strange it was here. An isolated, barren ball of dust, littered with the remnants of robots and our first phases of exploration - not even 350 humans in the system yet, compared to the Moon’s 2,500 and rapidly growing. Mars, despite its hostility, had welcomed us in some ways. The dust storms had been relatively tame this year, resulting in us only needing to clean the exterior sensors and solar arrays every 4 days instead of 2. Our discovery of Aquifer 1C in the region late last year had boosted our water reserves, enabling a continuous presence of 70 crewmen on this station alone - a blessing in itself. Douglass Outpost, formerly Foundation, stood proudly in the center of Noctis, a gleaming mini-city on the planet’s surface. It had grown considerably since its founding all those years ago, greenhouses and lab spaces sprawled outwards from its central spire, built up in modular increments sent from Earth and more recently, indigenously constructed. This kind of production had been pioneered on the Moon, and had trickled its way down to us lowly Martians. The monotony of days inside was broken by the rumbling of the printing robots, moving across the landscape to tend to their careful constructions. I had only been here 4 months, and I could already tell that there was a real sense of pride that folks here had. The first of 5 permanent bases, and there was a real sense of pride in everything we accomplished. I had arrived onboard the Kepler, Europe’s third transfer vehicle off the line, assembled in the new NRHO facility with components manufactured on the lunar surface. Industry was really picking up there, and working on this dust ball seemed like a second tier position to building up a genuine city on the Moon. But Mars called, and I answered.
As morning broke over the facility, I received my assignment for the day, a six hour maximum EVA to inspect a “site of geological interest,” - Aquifer 10C6. The job was simple, relatively speaking. Traverse out on foot to the work site, and get started on exploring one of the new aquifers that had been detected with the collapse of the lava tube. It was a short walk, less than two miles, something more than doable in the ARES II suits that had been brought up on the last rotation flight. They were designed to be easier on the body, lighter and made of more shock absorbing materials so we didn’t end up with scrapes and bruises on our knees and elbows every time we would kneel to pick up a rock. Relief from the aging ARES IB suits couldn’t come soon enough, and when the Chinese Tianzhou Cargo MTV arrived, we had been so eager to get our hands on suit parts that we’d forgotten the personal items. Given how familiar we were with the terrain, the buddy rule had been waived - we could proceed outwards on our own, and we were close enough to the complex that any rescue work could be done fairly quickly, one of the luxuries in being stationed here as opposed to the other facilities scattered across the planet. I proceeded out of the Lodge, what we referred to as the primary living space, and headed out through the maze of hallways and laboratories to the suit up room. In kind words, it was basically just a locker room and storage facility, filled with the comings and goings of those who stepped out onto the surface every day. Suitup was quick, we generally had the routine of getting into and out of our armored exoskeletons down pat, slipping through the suitport door into my mobile spacecraft. With a hiss, my body would be free from the structure, and I could begin my trek to the worksite, accompanied by a variety of robotic helpers. I didn’t mind the walk, for it gave me a moment to be alone with my thoughts. I put on some Steely Dan, and made it a point to enjoy my morning.
— — — — — — — —
As the structures of the base faded from view, I found myself once again in touch with the planet. There was a certain degree of removal that was deliberate in the design of the base, trying to give us the impression of home rather than a desolate wasteland. My comrades would complain that the redness of the soil would alter their vision, but I enjoyed all the time I could spend outside - within radiation limits of course. The muted blues and greens felt… somehow too artificial, even surrounded by the creeping plants that grew in the corridors. The desert called to me, as if it knew something I didn’t, inviting me out into its harsh embrace to learn something, to challenge my notion of this world around me. Perhaps Mars still had her secrets. After about 45 minutes of walking, I arrived at the worksite, marked on my heads up display by a glowing green arrow. There wasn’t much here, just a narrow opening in the walls of the cliff face, leading to some great unknown that I couldn’t see. Something… Something about it unsettled me. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Carefully, I knelt down and opened the cases of tools and robotic equipment that I carried, my Mule load lifter quad-bot kneeling down to act as my tool case. These robots were extensions of us, tools that broadened our reach to our environment around us. First up was the rotocraft, a small, lightweight helicopter that would act as my first scout, hoping to enter the aquifer and scout how much water could lay inside. My helmet had a small plug, which I connected to a console inside the case - my link to the eyes of the aircraft. With a swirl of dust, UAV-1 was up, and would translate forward into the narrow opening, its infrared and ultraviolet eyes scanning the environment around it. It was… Warmer in here than I expected, and I took a moment to log the temperature. Water ice sat comfortably on the ceiling, dripping down in icicles like ice caves on Earth. We had seen this before, but… Something felt different. I swiveled the camera and flipped on the powerful LED lamps, proceeding further down the tunnel. Something caught my eye, laying on the floor. Wait - what is that? I stood up, my heart rate increasing. An invisible hand sat wrapped around my throat, and I struggled to remember to breathe. The aircraft bucked, slamming into the wall of the cave, and disappeared from my link. Confused, I stood from my kneeling position, and took three tentative steps towards the opening. Protocol required us, if at all possible, to retrieve equipment - but every ancient instinct in my body said to not go in there. Something was wrong, fundamentally wrong with the way this was playing out. I stood there for a few moments, pondering the nature of what I was about to do, logged my position, and prepared to enter the narrow passageway.
It was just wide enough for my suit, the broad armored shoulders scraping against the weathered sandstone. Dust hung in the air, clinging to my suit’s visor with its electrostatic grip. I brushed it off as I ventured further down the passageway, feeling the corridor constrict all around me. Minutes felt like hours as I proceeded further, and I struggled to keep my cool - despite training as an astronaut, I really hated tight spaces. An alarm sprung up on my suit, not an internal problem, but… A trace gas warning? Something was different about the environment here, oxygen, carbon and methane levels were higher here. This was entirely not normal - nothing had the ability to generate gasses in this volume. Nothing that we knew of. My gaze remained so locked on the screens on my wrist that I nearly lost my footing as I encountered UAV-1, laying twisted on its side in the chamber, lights still flickering weakly. I felt… Frightened. For the first time in so long, I felt so deeply afraid, paralyzed by a fear of the unknown that I had not felt in so long. Like a child facing a nightmare. Slowly, I cast my headlamps across the chamber, puddles of water sitting on the floor. Liquid water… Liquid water this close to the surface had never been observed like this before. It was impossible… Wasn’t it? I stepped closer, my reflection distorted behind the suit and in the hazy, dusty void of the cavern. Movement. My proximity alarm tripped, a small ping on the right side of my helmet. What the fuck? Where- I lost my balance, my suit rocking forward and landing me firmly in the puddle. Mud coated my faceplate, and I struggled to right myself. I was blind, cold, and alone - deep underground somewhere. For a moment, I remained still, imagining the sounds of the cave. A wet, cold drip, something… present. Something new. Warning, high heart rate - rest as needed. The biometric alarms would no doubt be triggering back at the base, if they could hear me at all, and I managed to get myself onto my feet. That’s when I saw it. A hexagonal structure, seeming to ebb and flow with the movement of the universe around it - I felt it watching me. I stood, moving slowly so as not to startle it… It was clear that whatever it was, it startled easily, and fried the UAV. It seemed to stare back at me, no longer threatened. It seemed to only observe, watching slowly with its non-existent eyes. The rigid hexagonal towers that rose from it seemed so artificial, and yet, reminded me of the great steps of the Giant’s Causeway on Earth. So familiar and yet so different. I found myself speechless, my chest tight with something, not fear but… Wonder. And then it hit me - I was the only one who knew. The only one who knew that this thing existed. The only human, across any part of settled space, that knew that something was fundamentally different. That we were not alone. My heartrate started to creep up again, and I shakily held up my hand. The… Thing - it moved. It raised a column of green and gray in response. It understood me… What I was, perhaps not, but there was a degree of understanding present. My god, we were not alone after all.
I had to run, for there was no turning back. I documented what I could, wiping the mud from my helmet cams, and turned towards the opening, eager to see the light of day again. The walls of the cave seemed tighter, and I struggled against the restriction of the chasm as I made my way out. All I could think of was getting out. On my hands and knees, I crawled up the sloping dunes and found myself where I had been before the world had changed, a moment of rebirth into the harsh desert of the planet. Terra Nova. I craned my neck as I struggled to stand, looking for the lights of the base in the distance. I had to run. My heart felt as though it was straining to keep up, and I started to run, leaving my equipment behind. Now, out of the cave, communications were restored and I could hear the chatter of the human race once more, so blissfully unaware that change was coming. I stumbled in the shifting sand, sweat stinging my eyes. There was no going back. No way to move beyond this. I had to run - the sole bearer of information that would alter humanity forever. If there was a God, perhaps he would be kind to our species, and set us on the right path. My bones, weakened by the lack of gravity, would ache as I continued my trek, but I didn’t care. My lungs and heart screamed at me, and the tunnel vision of exhaustion crept into my field of view, suffocating me like the cave had. Voice after voice filled my ears as I got closer to the base, asking me why I had slipped from view, why my suit was stained red with the iron rich mud of the planet. I didn’t care, my world and my ideas of normality slipped from me. I had to tell someone, and soon. The doors of the base, sealed against the harsh elements of the planet, were all that stood in between me and the rest of humanity, but I was determined to go through them. For there was no way back. Only forward, onto a horizon heretofore unseen. God help us all - for the dawn of some new era was upon us. With as much force as I could muster, I began to pound on the door.
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It's what I've wanted all along. A fitting end, with an eye to the future, knowing that nothing will ever truly be the same.
No way, things really are never going to be the same. Cannot wait to see what comes next!
Hey everyone, just wanted to share something here - while the story may be complete, we've got a few more pieces for the soundtrack in the works!
For this one we're jumping back in time a bit. I've wanted to write something for Olympus 9's recovery for a while, but I'm only just now getting the chance to go back to it. So with that, here's Homecoming!
For this one we're jumping back in time a bit. I've wanted to write something for Olympus 9's recovery for a while, but I'm only just now getting the chance to go back to it. So with that, here's Homecoming!
Excellent work as always, really happy to have you craft and continue to craft this amazing soundtrack!
Once again, banger after banger. This soundtrack is wonderful and continues to grow.
A Proxima "Where are they now" is currently in the works, so if you're curious about Shuttle, OPAV, MTVs and more after our story ends, stay tuned! That'll be coming so very soon...
Where Are They Now... Part 1!
Hello all, hope you’ve been doing well since the end of Proxima - I’ve missed you! And I hope the soundtrack has been keeping you happy and entertained, more pieces will be coming out soon as they’re released. Today, we’re gonna explore where a variety of hardware ended up as Proxima ended, and what roles different components served as the years flew by. I wanna give a huge shoutout to Peter for his help in planning the final locations for all of these important pieces. The way this will work is thus: everything will be broken up by vehicle type, and I’ll give a little blurb about the process of getting there. Let’s start with what we came here for, the orbiters!
Shuttle Orbiters
OV-101 Enterprise: Space Shuttle Enterprise, while not a space capable orbiter, would end up as part of the first collectible items of the program as a whole. Originally, she sat in storage in Palmdale California, before being ferried in 2003 to the newly opened Udvar Hazy center in Dulles, Virginia. Here she would remain for nearly 20 years before being flown to the National Museum of the United States Air Force in Dayton, Ohio. The exhibit, titled “To Boldly Go…” would tell the story of her involvement in the Approach and Landing Tests, as well as planned conversion for Air Force Needs. She would become one of the main attractions to the museum, replacing a training mockup that had been used during the development of the shuttle system. The NMUSAF would boast about the impressive size of their aerospace collection, which included a Titan IV and a prototype Atlas NG recovery pod.
OV-099A Challenger: With Challenger’s retirement, museums across the country scrambled to get their hands on the oldest orbiter in the fleet. The Smithsonian Institution, already holding one orbiter at the Udvar Hazy Center, would agree to a trade with the National Museum of the United States Air Force, bestowing Enterprise on them to ensure that the Fleet Leader would remain close to Washington DC. Following her retirement in 2019, Challenger had remained at the Orbiter Processing Facility, being looked over carefully in the event that any of her spare parts would be needed to support the remaining Shuttle fleet as they were phased out. After the retirement of the Shuttle fleet in 2022, Challenger was once again stacked on the SCA in March 2023, being flown over Washington DC before landing at Dulles Airport and being de-mated. Here she would be towed across the airfield to the hangar at the Udvar Hazy Center, where she would swap places with Enterprise. She would join the rebuilt OPAV pod, Perseverance, in the Boeing sponsored Spaceflight Hall.
OV-103 Discovery: Discovery’s journey would not be so easy. Immediately following her final flight to Horizon in 2020, Discovery would be brought into the Orbiter Processing Facility for her post-service teardown, removing all components that would potentially be useful for future spaceflight endeavors. Her final destination would be the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago, Illinois - a museum centered in the middle of the Windy City. Delivery of the orbiter would be one of the most daunting tasks of the program, and a carefully choreographed plan had to be orchestrated to support it. Since the beginning of the shuttle wind-down, the museum had been hard at work preparing a bold new expansion for space artifacts. Due to the restrictive nature of the cityscape, the shuttle would not be flown to a Chicago-area airport. Rather, she would be flown to Milwaukee, and driven down to a special covered barge which would be used to bring the orbiter into the city. Milwaukee was chosen for its proximity to Lake Michigan, enabling transit over water rather than land. In August, 2023, Discovery would lift off from the Kennedy Space Center one final time, bound for Milwaukee, Wisconsin. After a picture perfect arrival and demate, she was carefully offloaded onto her transport sled. After nearly a week-long journey, Discovery would come to port in the city of Chicago. Using a specially constructed sled system, Discovery would be moved next to the sunken box in which the museum had constructed for her exhibition. Now, the truly novel feature of the system - a retractable roof and a system of cranes, designed to lower the orbiter into its final position, wheels stop, like Challenger before her. With Discovery safely inside, the door would be closed, and the museum opened in October, the orbiter finally at rest.
OV-104 Atlantis: For Atlantis, as she came to a stop at the Cape for a final time, several institutions would begin to debate over who would receive her. Atlantis would set her wheels down and come to a stop one final time in 2021, where she would head to the OPF for a brief stint, before returning to the back of the Shuttle Carrier Aircraft. In discussions of who would retain the remaining orbiter fleet, it became clear that NASA themselves wished to preserve Atlantis and Intrepid, for they played a vital role in the assembly and logistics of the Olympus program as a whole. Bold new plans for exhibition spaces were drawn up, highlighting the two orbiter’s role in the program. Johnson Space Center, home of much of the station planning for the agency, would seem to be the logical choice for Atlantis, as she had become one of the most prolific station fliers. For Atlantis, her home would come as part of the “Islands in the Stars” exhibit, a tell-all setup detailing the crucial infrastructure of space stations and the role they played in human spaceflight. Atlantis would be the centerpiece of this display, before moving guests through interior replicas of Skylab, Odyssey and Horizon, as well as offering a chance to try their skills wrangling satellites with the Remote Manipulator System. Unlike the stoic monuments of Challenger and Discovery, Atlantis would retain her youth, coming to life in a dynamic display.
OV-105 Endeavour: Endeavour’s journey would see her return to the California heat from which she was born, a fitting cycle for such an iconic vehicle. Her landing on her final mission was the start of a several thousand mile journey, which would ultimately see her winding through the streets of Los Angeles. After storage at United’s LAX hangars until the spring of 2024, the big move could begin in earnest. Endeavour would snake her way through the streets of Los Angeles, an iconic sight to see for all who flocked to witness her majesty. The Space Shuttle was mainly carried by four self-propelled robotic dollies throughout the 12-mile journey, equipment that would later see use as part of an automated transporter-erector for VTVL rockets at Vandenberg Air Force Base. Upon her arrival at the California Science Center, she would sit in a temporary exhibition space, nothing more than a glorified shed. For many, it was somewhat of a disgrace - the great orbiter relegated to nothing more than a tent in the California sun. Fortunately, she would not remain this way for long, for a structural test article ET and veteran booster pair would be delivered to the museum in early 2025, and construction could begin on Endeavour’s new home, the only exhibit to have an orbiter fully stacked. In July 2025, the museum would open its doors to the “Soar, Endeavour!” experience, showcasing the important role the orbiter played in human spaceflight.
OV-106 Intrepid: Intrepid had always been something of an oddball. She had been relegated to modifications and tweaks that had always made her something of an odd duck, on ferry duty to bring crews to and from their waiting MTVs loitering in orbit. She had been a fine ship, but due to her extensive modification, had not flown many other sorties besides crew rotation, and some free flying research flights. Nevertheless, she had become one of the most historic vehicles in history, delivering Olympus crews to their vehicles before they set off on the adventure of a lifetime. Hell, she had delivered one of the most important crews to ever fly; Olympus 3, to become the first humans to set foot on the planet Mars - a triumphant international feat that captivated the world. Now, as she would finally be retired, a new home was being prepared for her. At Kennedy Space Center, the Saturn V had once been the centerpiece of the museum. Now, in a new age, Intrepid and a mockup of the immense MTVs that carried crews to and from Mars would serve as the focal point, alongside a full size interior mockup of MADV. The museum would see numerous construction delays however, originally timed to line up with the first Destiny program landing in 2027, opening to the public in March of 2028. The museum would be, for many, a showcase of the immense scale of the program’s architecture, an awe inspiring element to the already awe inspiring landscape.
SV-001 Valiant: As the pieces of Valiant were plucked from the water off the coast of California, it became apparent that there would need to be a concentrated effort to organize and curate the important pieces of what made her crew unique. Three locations were chosen to showcase elements of her from her final, fateful flight, as part of a project to educate the public about the risk of spaceflight. On the West Coast, Vandenberg Air Force Base would build a small memorial overlooking the Venturestar Facility at Space Launch Complex-6, the centerpiece being the vertical stabilizer, the logo of the 77th Valiant Operation Wing still visible. A small memorial garden would be constructed for quiet reflection, and viewing of launches from a safe distance. Every year, on the anniversary of her final flight, hundreds of space enthusiasts would make the trek into the California hills to pay their respects and have a moment of silence. In Dayton, Ohio, the National Museum of the United States Air Force would receive several artifacts of the crewmembers themselves, including pieces of an Extravehicular Mobility Unit, Air Force Academy pennants, and other items from onboard. Also on display would be pieces of the RS-25 main engines, and the external tank, all recovered nearby the crew cabin. Arguably, the most moving display of the orbiter’s remains would be at the Cape, where her flight deck windows and iconic nameplate would sit in a darkened room, with projected images of the crew adorning the hall. Below the nameplate would sit a model of the Valiant Memorial, laid by Anna Douglass and her crew onboard Olympus 3 - a connection between those who gave their all and the stars above.
Shuttle Orbiters
OV-101 Enterprise: Space Shuttle Enterprise, while not a space capable orbiter, would end up as part of the first collectible items of the program as a whole. Originally, she sat in storage in Palmdale California, before being ferried in 2003 to the newly opened Udvar Hazy center in Dulles, Virginia. Here she would remain for nearly 20 years before being flown to the National Museum of the United States Air Force in Dayton, Ohio. The exhibit, titled “To Boldly Go…” would tell the story of her involvement in the Approach and Landing Tests, as well as planned conversion for Air Force Needs. She would become one of the main attractions to the museum, replacing a training mockup that had been used during the development of the shuttle system. The NMUSAF would boast about the impressive size of their aerospace collection, which included a Titan IV and a prototype Atlas NG recovery pod.
OV-099A Challenger: With Challenger’s retirement, museums across the country scrambled to get their hands on the oldest orbiter in the fleet. The Smithsonian Institution, already holding one orbiter at the Udvar Hazy Center, would agree to a trade with the National Museum of the United States Air Force, bestowing Enterprise on them to ensure that the Fleet Leader would remain close to Washington DC. Following her retirement in 2019, Challenger had remained at the Orbiter Processing Facility, being looked over carefully in the event that any of her spare parts would be needed to support the remaining Shuttle fleet as they were phased out. After the retirement of the Shuttle fleet in 2022, Challenger was once again stacked on the SCA in March 2023, being flown over Washington DC before landing at Dulles Airport and being de-mated. Here she would be towed across the airfield to the hangar at the Udvar Hazy Center, where she would swap places with Enterprise. She would join the rebuilt OPAV pod, Perseverance, in the Boeing sponsored Spaceflight Hall.
OV-103 Discovery: Discovery’s journey would not be so easy. Immediately following her final flight to Horizon in 2020, Discovery would be brought into the Orbiter Processing Facility for her post-service teardown, removing all components that would potentially be useful for future spaceflight endeavors. Her final destination would be the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago, Illinois - a museum centered in the middle of the Windy City. Delivery of the orbiter would be one of the most daunting tasks of the program, and a carefully choreographed plan had to be orchestrated to support it. Since the beginning of the shuttle wind-down, the museum had been hard at work preparing a bold new expansion for space artifacts. Due to the restrictive nature of the cityscape, the shuttle would not be flown to a Chicago-area airport. Rather, she would be flown to Milwaukee, and driven down to a special covered barge which would be used to bring the orbiter into the city. Milwaukee was chosen for its proximity to Lake Michigan, enabling transit over water rather than land. In August, 2023, Discovery would lift off from the Kennedy Space Center one final time, bound for Milwaukee, Wisconsin. After a picture perfect arrival and demate, she was carefully offloaded onto her transport sled. After nearly a week-long journey, Discovery would come to port in the city of Chicago. Using a specially constructed sled system, Discovery would be moved next to the sunken box in which the museum had constructed for her exhibition. Now, the truly novel feature of the system - a retractable roof and a system of cranes, designed to lower the orbiter into its final position, wheels stop, like Challenger before her. With Discovery safely inside, the door would be closed, and the museum opened in October, the orbiter finally at rest.
OV-104 Atlantis: For Atlantis, as she came to a stop at the Cape for a final time, several institutions would begin to debate over who would receive her. Atlantis would set her wheels down and come to a stop one final time in 2021, where she would head to the OPF for a brief stint, before returning to the back of the Shuttle Carrier Aircraft. In discussions of who would retain the remaining orbiter fleet, it became clear that NASA themselves wished to preserve Atlantis and Intrepid, for they played a vital role in the assembly and logistics of the Olympus program as a whole. Bold new plans for exhibition spaces were drawn up, highlighting the two orbiter’s role in the program. Johnson Space Center, home of much of the station planning for the agency, would seem to be the logical choice for Atlantis, as she had become one of the most prolific station fliers. For Atlantis, her home would come as part of the “Islands in the Stars” exhibit, a tell-all setup detailing the crucial infrastructure of space stations and the role they played in human spaceflight. Atlantis would be the centerpiece of this display, before moving guests through interior replicas of Skylab, Odyssey and Horizon, as well as offering a chance to try their skills wrangling satellites with the Remote Manipulator System. Unlike the stoic monuments of Challenger and Discovery, Atlantis would retain her youth, coming to life in a dynamic display.
OV-105 Endeavour: Endeavour’s journey would see her return to the California heat from which she was born, a fitting cycle for such an iconic vehicle. Her landing on her final mission was the start of a several thousand mile journey, which would ultimately see her winding through the streets of Los Angeles. After storage at United’s LAX hangars until the spring of 2024, the big move could begin in earnest. Endeavour would snake her way through the streets of Los Angeles, an iconic sight to see for all who flocked to witness her majesty. The Space Shuttle was mainly carried by four self-propelled robotic dollies throughout the 12-mile journey, equipment that would later see use as part of an automated transporter-erector for VTVL rockets at Vandenberg Air Force Base. Upon her arrival at the California Science Center, she would sit in a temporary exhibition space, nothing more than a glorified shed. For many, it was somewhat of a disgrace - the great orbiter relegated to nothing more than a tent in the California sun. Fortunately, she would not remain this way for long, for a structural test article ET and veteran booster pair would be delivered to the museum in early 2025, and construction could begin on Endeavour’s new home, the only exhibit to have an orbiter fully stacked. In July 2025, the museum would open its doors to the “Soar, Endeavour!” experience, showcasing the important role the orbiter played in human spaceflight.
OV-106 Intrepid: Intrepid had always been something of an oddball. She had been relegated to modifications and tweaks that had always made her something of an odd duck, on ferry duty to bring crews to and from their waiting MTVs loitering in orbit. She had been a fine ship, but due to her extensive modification, had not flown many other sorties besides crew rotation, and some free flying research flights. Nevertheless, she had become one of the most historic vehicles in history, delivering Olympus crews to their vehicles before they set off on the adventure of a lifetime. Hell, she had delivered one of the most important crews to ever fly; Olympus 3, to become the first humans to set foot on the planet Mars - a triumphant international feat that captivated the world. Now, as she would finally be retired, a new home was being prepared for her. At Kennedy Space Center, the Saturn V had once been the centerpiece of the museum. Now, in a new age, Intrepid and a mockup of the immense MTVs that carried crews to and from Mars would serve as the focal point, alongside a full size interior mockup of MADV. The museum would see numerous construction delays however, originally timed to line up with the first Destiny program landing in 2027, opening to the public in March of 2028. The museum would be, for many, a showcase of the immense scale of the program’s architecture, an awe inspiring element to the already awe inspiring landscape.
SV-001 Valiant: As the pieces of Valiant were plucked from the water off the coast of California, it became apparent that there would need to be a concentrated effort to organize and curate the important pieces of what made her crew unique. Three locations were chosen to showcase elements of her from her final, fateful flight, as part of a project to educate the public about the risk of spaceflight. On the West Coast, Vandenberg Air Force Base would build a small memorial overlooking the Venturestar Facility at Space Launch Complex-6, the centerpiece being the vertical stabilizer, the logo of the 77th Valiant Operation Wing still visible. A small memorial garden would be constructed for quiet reflection, and viewing of launches from a safe distance. Every year, on the anniversary of her final flight, hundreds of space enthusiasts would make the trek into the California hills to pay their respects and have a moment of silence. In Dayton, Ohio, the National Museum of the United States Air Force would receive several artifacts of the crewmembers themselves, including pieces of an Extravehicular Mobility Unit, Air Force Academy pennants, and other items from onboard. Also on display would be pieces of the RS-25 main engines, and the external tank, all recovered nearby the crew cabin. Arguably, the most moving display of the orbiter’s remains would be at the Cape, where her flight deck windows and iconic nameplate would sit in a darkened room, with projected images of the crew adorning the hall. Below the nameplate would sit a model of the Valiant Memorial, laid by Anna Douglass and her crew onboard Olympus 3 - a connection between those who gave their all and the stars above.
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Sometimes the retirement of a program can feel as daunting as its operation - this is a great way to spend just a little bit more time with our beloved orbiters now that the story's wound down. Discovery's journey in particular felt like a dizzying affair, but it's all worth it if these vehicles can rest and inspire the next generation.
As a native Texan I can't help but envy the Proxima universe getting a shuttle in Houston! I went much longer in life without seeing one just because of the distance, so it's cool to see that opportunity being provided here. That fully-stacked shuttle exhibit in California sounds like a sight to behold...
I also really appreciate Valiant's treatment here; it just feels right to give a lot of those artifacts to the USAF Museum. I've always thought Columbia's windows made for a compelling exhibit - one that looks you in the eye and demands vigilance. It's a fitting way to remember Valiant, alongside the iconic memorial.
As a native Texan I can't help but envy the Proxima universe getting a shuttle in Houston! I went much longer in life without seeing one just because of the distance, so it's cool to see that opportunity being provided here. That fully-stacked shuttle exhibit in California sounds like a sight to behold...
I also really appreciate Valiant's treatment here; it just feels right to give a lot of those artifacts to the USAF Museum. I've always thought Columbia's windows made for a compelling exhibit - one that looks you in the eye and demands vigilance. It's a fitting way to remember Valiant, alongside the iconic memorial.
I wanted to design a series of exhibits that inspired, but still remembered where they came from. Sometimes museums can hold onto artifacts, but not understand the context of aforementioned artifact or understand why its so important. This, I hope, balances it out to some degree.
Hi all, happy holidays! I hope you all have been doing well. I wanted to pop by and let y'all know that "where are they now pt 2" is still in the works, and there is a lot more coming for Proxima's sequel, Horizon. If you're curious and want a head start on all of that, you can take a look at my tumblr where I post WIP thoughts and musings, and discuss some elements of Proxima itself. Hope to see you all back here soon!
Hey everyone! While @defconh3ck wraps up the last loose ends of the story and its vehicles, I'm working on finishing the last few pieces for the full soundtrack. This one, The Long Fall, takes place as Olympus 3 is racing down towards powered capture at Mars.
Excellent work as always! Super excited to continue to grow the proxima audio universe!
Where Are They Now... Part 2!
Hello everyone, welcome back! I know it's been a while what with the holidays and everything going on. I wanted to finally give you all a part 2 of "Where Are They Now" to help answer the question of what became of the machines we know and love, and what human spaceflight starts to look like after our story ends. There will probably be one or two more posts after this one, before we really start moving to Proxima's sequel. I want to give a huge shoutout to Jay, for providing an amazing new design of our next gen MTVs, and Peter for doing some amazing writing for a long lost traveller. I will be around here for questions, which I encourage you to ask, but also on Tumblr, which you can find here. And now, let's dive right in!
Where Are They Now: Part 2
With the introduction of the latest plan from NASA and the Olympus Partners to pursue not only a Martian program, but a Lunar one, it was ultimately deemed necessary to ensure that a new generation of Mars Transfer Vehicles continued to power crews out to the Red Planet without sacrificing capabilities. While the original nuclear thermal design had proved to be highly advantageous for the program, there were elements in which the design struggled - notably crew capacity and lack of full reuse characteristics. In 2020, a group at Marshall Space Flight Center, the very same birthplace of the first generation MTV, would gather to begin to design the next generation of spacecraft. Initial designs called for something referred to as the Deep Space Transport, or DST, highlighting the multi-mission nature of the vehicles, and centered much of their focus around a fully solar electric architecture using a large, rigid “workshop” module. Ultimately, this configuration would end up with intense power draw requirements and longer trip times, something that mission planners wanted to avoid in order to ensure maximum science return on the Red Planet itself. The next option explored would be a hybrid of sorts, a massive methalox chemical stage, supplemented by a nuclear powered VASIMIR thruster. These twin propulsion systems would work together for various phases of flight, with the Nuclear-Electric element doing the outward push, and the chemical stage performing the arrival burn at both Mars and departure from when the time came. Post arrival, the electric stage would ignite once more to slowly spiral down to the Low Martian Orbit customary of Olympus operations, where the vehicle would rendezvous with the Base Station and MADV for the sortie to the Martian Surface.
In December 2027, after a long and arduous design period, the first launch of the newly named Armstrong Class MTV Endurance would be conducted by Jupiter-OPAV, carrying the largest single element - the chemical transfer stage. This would see Adventure pushed to her absolute limits, having recently completed her Block III upgrades. After a flawless flight to orbit, the great chemical stage would separate and coast free, with the OPAV pod returning to land in the California desert. Over 7 additional launches, the inflatable habitat, workshop, node and truss segments would be launched to the growing vehicle. In March of 2028, she would be visited by the crew of ACEV Kitty Hawk for checkout once the reactor had been delivered, configuring her for her service life. She was an impressive vehicle, with MTV Endurance acting not only as a fully functional Mars Transfer Vehicle, but a testbed for technologies needed to augment future human spaceflight endeavors. Her first crew would marvel at her size, and conduct final bolt tightening and maintenance work before her series of practice burns over the next few months, simulating various maneuvers. With a successful electric thruster demonstration under her belt, she would be topped up by a series of new, commercially and internationally launched methane tankers In June of 2028, Endurance would receive her crew onboard ACEV Columbia, having launched only 12 hours prior onboard an Atlas EvO. Their international crew consisted of members who had only been children when the first rotations to the Red Planet had begun, finally fulfilling their dream of walking on worlds unknown. Olympus 19 would cast off from planet Earth only 8 days after their arrival, conducting a 6 month voyage to Mars to further research at Foundation. Soon, Endurance’s sister ships would be brought online one by one, Constellation and Pathfinder - to continue the dream of human exploration of Mars. This dramatic capability increase would also see the need arise for a second MADV, to support larger crews operating around Mars. Enterprise’s sister ship, Phoenix, would be launched to Low Martian Orbit to support crews of up to 16 at Foundation as the complex expanded dramatically.
Minerva herself had already been modified in support of Destiny, removing her drop tank mounting points and habitation section, with those components being returned to LEO for servicing and potential conversion. What remained of her now was the core fuel tanks, solar arrays, a cargo mounting point for the Altair Common Lunar Lander, and her avionics ring. To spaceflight enthusiasts, she was a shell of her former self, but in the eyes of the Mission Planning Office, she was right where they needed her to be. An international crew of 6, commanded by Olympus 15 veteran Lance Novak would set off from Earth in August 2027, launching onboard ACEV Columbia for the short journey to the Moon. Minerva would brake into an elliptical orbit, high above the gravitational anomalies that limited Apollo’s stay in lunar orbit. On August 28th, 2027, the crew of Destiny III would board their lander, Artemis, and make the descent to the Lunar surface, aiming for the rim of Shackleton Base. Their lander, a joint project between NASA, ESA and JAXA locked on to the Russian built beacon already in place onboard their cargo lander, and soon the crew of 6 could begin their initial operations, setting up a permanent, rapidly expandable base on the Lunar surface. Prometheus and Selene would soon see retirement from Martian sorties as the Armstrong Class ramped up their operational cadence. They would spend their golden years here, servicing the Earth-Moon system as they ferried crews, cargo and more between the growing base at Shackleton, supporting crucial operations as the population of the moon rapidly grew through the 2030s. Soon, the needs of the growing base would surpass that of the original MTVs, and the great ships would be broken up in Lunar orbit, with usable components brought down to the surface to expand the growing base. Tanks would be repurposed for hydrogen storage, vital in support of the growing demands of fuel production. The MTVs would find themselves living out their days incorporated into human architectures, spread out across the lunar surface. Well, nearly all of them.
Hera’s time in service ended long before her sisters. Due to the damage sustained by Chris Taylor’s impact along with the structural failure of the robot arm, the helium coolant circuit and one of the redundant ammonia circuits were emptied long before her arrival at the world of her birth. Through the careful management of propellant and power, flight controllers were able to keep her alive all the way back to Earth. In the absence of coolant, bled off into the vacuum of space, the Valkyrie engines had their control drums locked in the neutral position and had the xenon quench fired shortly before entering the Earth-Moon system to ensure the reactors would never start again. Hera had built up too much energy during the abort to be captured at earth. She would be forced to leave her crew behind as she threw herself past their home. The final act of her propulsion system would be supporting the safe separation of the Lifeboat, burning the last of the hydrazine propellant, the last drops of her blood, to increase separation from her precious crew and give them the best odds of making it home. NASA had good reason to believe heliocentric space would become much busier in the future, and since she could not be tracked on her solo trek around the sun, Hera was made to pose as little of a hazard as possible. Hera had mostly been bled dry but as a final precaution, all her propellant tanks were opened to vacuum to minimize the risk of a breakup. One by one her batteries were discharged and isolated from the solar panels to prevent their explosion. The team behind each subsystem said their goodbyes as their respective computer, pump, or gyroscope was turned off for the final time. The final command sent was to turn off the remaining CMG and broadcast the abort repeater tone indefinitely. The message ended with a text string to be read by no one. “Thank you Hera. Rest well” Back on Earth, Hera’s lifeboat was placed on display in an annex built onto building 30 at JSC. New flight controllers are brought into the room on their third day of training where the audio recorded onboard Hera during the abort is played back, a reminder of painful day's past. The intent is to not only remind them of the stakes of the job but demonstrate that they will never run out of options in their fight to bring a crew home safe. Hera herself orbits silently between earth and Venus. Over many years a tumble slowly developed from the uneven pressure exerted on the two remaining radiators and the reflective MLI on her tanks. Despite this - she remained intact and never experienced a close encounter with any planet again. She remains the only original Olympus hardware that is left unperturbed or unmodified, free to silently observe humanity's future in the solar system.
Where Are They Now: Part 2
With the introduction of the latest plan from NASA and the Olympus Partners to pursue not only a Martian program, but a Lunar one, it was ultimately deemed necessary to ensure that a new generation of Mars Transfer Vehicles continued to power crews out to the Red Planet without sacrificing capabilities. While the original nuclear thermal design had proved to be highly advantageous for the program, there were elements in which the design struggled - notably crew capacity and lack of full reuse characteristics. In 2020, a group at Marshall Space Flight Center, the very same birthplace of the first generation MTV, would gather to begin to design the next generation of spacecraft. Initial designs called for something referred to as the Deep Space Transport, or DST, highlighting the multi-mission nature of the vehicles, and centered much of their focus around a fully solar electric architecture using a large, rigid “workshop” module. Ultimately, this configuration would end up with intense power draw requirements and longer trip times, something that mission planners wanted to avoid in order to ensure maximum science return on the Red Planet itself. The next option explored would be a hybrid of sorts, a massive methalox chemical stage, supplemented by a nuclear powered VASIMIR thruster. These twin propulsion systems would work together for various phases of flight, with the Nuclear-Electric element doing the outward push, and the chemical stage performing the arrival burn at both Mars and departure from when the time came. Post arrival, the electric stage would ignite once more to slowly spiral down to the Low Martian Orbit customary of Olympus operations, where the vehicle would rendezvous with the Base Station and MADV for the sortie to the Martian Surface.
In December 2027, after a long and arduous design period, the first launch of the newly named Armstrong Class MTV Endurance would be conducted by Jupiter-OPAV, carrying the largest single element - the chemical transfer stage. This would see Adventure pushed to her absolute limits, having recently completed her Block III upgrades. After a flawless flight to orbit, the great chemical stage would separate and coast free, with the OPAV pod returning to land in the California desert. Over 7 additional launches, the inflatable habitat, workshop, node and truss segments would be launched to the growing vehicle. In March of 2028, she would be visited by the crew of ACEV Kitty Hawk for checkout once the reactor had been delivered, configuring her for her service life. She was an impressive vehicle, with MTV Endurance acting not only as a fully functional Mars Transfer Vehicle, but a testbed for technologies needed to augment future human spaceflight endeavors. Her first crew would marvel at her size, and conduct final bolt tightening and maintenance work before her series of practice burns over the next few months, simulating various maneuvers. With a successful electric thruster demonstration under her belt, she would be topped up by a series of new, commercially and internationally launched methane tankers In June of 2028, Endurance would receive her crew onboard ACEV Columbia, having launched only 12 hours prior onboard an Atlas EvO. Their international crew consisted of members who had only been children when the first rotations to the Red Planet had begun, finally fulfilling their dream of walking on worlds unknown. Olympus 19 would cast off from planet Earth only 8 days after their arrival, conducting a 6 month voyage to Mars to further research at Foundation. Soon, Endurance’s sister ships would be brought online one by one, Constellation and Pathfinder - to continue the dream of human exploration of Mars. This dramatic capability increase would also see the need arise for a second MADV, to support larger crews operating around Mars. Enterprise’s sister ship, Phoenix, would be launched to Low Martian Orbit to support crews of up to 16 at Foundation as the complex expanded dramatically.
Endurance waits patiently in orbit for her maiden voyage, a gargantuan undertaking finally complete - ready to power the future of human endeavors in spaceflight.
Minerva herself had already been modified in support of Destiny, removing her drop tank mounting points and habitation section, with those components being returned to LEO for servicing and potential conversion. What remained of her now was the core fuel tanks, solar arrays, a cargo mounting point for the Altair Common Lunar Lander, and her avionics ring. To spaceflight enthusiasts, she was a shell of her former self, but in the eyes of the Mission Planning Office, she was right where they needed her to be. An international crew of 6, commanded by Olympus 15 veteran Lance Novak would set off from Earth in August 2027, launching onboard ACEV Columbia for the short journey to the Moon. Minerva would brake into an elliptical orbit, high above the gravitational anomalies that limited Apollo’s stay in lunar orbit. On August 28th, 2027, the crew of Destiny III would board their lander, Artemis, and make the descent to the Lunar surface, aiming for the rim of Shackleton Base. Their lander, a joint project between NASA, ESA and JAXA locked on to the Russian built beacon already in place onboard their cargo lander, and soon the crew of 6 could begin their initial operations, setting up a permanent, rapidly expandable base on the Lunar surface. Prometheus and Selene would soon see retirement from Martian sorties as the Armstrong Class ramped up their operational cadence. They would spend their golden years here, servicing the Earth-Moon system as they ferried crews, cargo and more between the growing base at Shackleton, supporting crucial operations as the population of the moon rapidly grew through the 2030s. Soon, the needs of the growing base would surpass that of the original MTVs, and the great ships would be broken up in Lunar orbit, with usable components brought down to the surface to expand the growing base. Tanks would be repurposed for hydrogen storage, vital in support of the growing demands of fuel production. The MTVs would find themselves living out their days incorporated into human architectures, spread out across the lunar surface. Well, nearly all of them.
Hera’s time in service ended long before her sisters. Due to the damage sustained by Chris Taylor’s impact along with the structural failure of the robot arm, the helium coolant circuit and one of the redundant ammonia circuits were emptied long before her arrival at the world of her birth. Through the careful management of propellant and power, flight controllers were able to keep her alive all the way back to Earth. In the absence of coolant, bled off into the vacuum of space, the Valkyrie engines had their control drums locked in the neutral position and had the xenon quench fired shortly before entering the Earth-Moon system to ensure the reactors would never start again. Hera had built up too much energy during the abort to be captured at earth. She would be forced to leave her crew behind as she threw herself past their home. The final act of her propulsion system would be supporting the safe separation of the Lifeboat, burning the last of the hydrazine propellant, the last drops of her blood, to increase separation from her precious crew and give them the best odds of making it home. NASA had good reason to believe heliocentric space would become much busier in the future, and since she could not be tracked on her solo trek around the sun, Hera was made to pose as little of a hazard as possible. Hera had mostly been bled dry but as a final precaution, all her propellant tanks were opened to vacuum to minimize the risk of a breakup. One by one her batteries were discharged and isolated from the solar panels to prevent their explosion. The team behind each subsystem said their goodbyes as their respective computer, pump, or gyroscope was turned off for the final time. The final command sent was to turn off the remaining CMG and broadcast the abort repeater tone indefinitely. The message ended with a text string to be read by no one. “Thank you Hera. Rest well” Back on Earth, Hera’s lifeboat was placed on display in an annex built onto building 30 at JSC. New flight controllers are brought into the room on their third day of training where the audio recorded onboard Hera during the abort is played back, a reminder of painful day's past. The intent is to not only remind them of the stakes of the job but demonstrate that they will never run out of options in their fight to bring a crew home safe. Hera herself orbits silently between earth and Venus. Over many years a tumble slowly developed from the uneven pressure exerted on the two remaining radiators and the reflective MLI on her tanks. Despite this - she remained intact and never experienced a close encounter with any planet again. She remains the only original Olympus hardware that is left unperturbed or unmodified, free to silently observe humanity's future in the solar system.
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