I'm planning to do Duration D with Lapot once I've got it man-rated for orbit. It's not needed for Lunuar Pass, though it is needed for the more sophisticated lunar missions, and I'll be doing it before them.

Comrade Module is 'probably two' seasons of serious research away from completion.

Herr director, please indicate if you approve of Mr. Gray's revised plan or not.

His revised plan is approved.

---

You are standing on a 4.5 billion year old complex, self-sustaining organic spacship, which is orbiting a power source a million times larger than your ship. There are 200 billion other power sources, many of them with ships like yours, in your fleet. There are 40 other fleets in the immediate neighbourhood and your entire neighbourhood is moving at two million miles per hour towards an object 150 million light years away. Welcome to life, it's a lot more exciting when you think on larger scales.

I revised my plan?

(Sorry, couldn't resist!)

---

Lt. Brown, Mr. Grey, and Comrade Syeriy on Let's Play BARIS

Murca to deploy additional troops in West Thanasia

The President announced today that to counter the growing threat of commienism in Yurp, he has commanded the Murcan armed forces to prepare a deployment plan for additional four divisions, which are to base near the tension-wracked broder between the two Thanasias.

These troops will safeguard our Yurpan allies, and cement our commitment towards world peace.

No word has been issues on whether or not the troops will bring any additional nuclear weapons or delivery systems with them.

Mwahaha....behold my brilliant back-up plan! Nothing like a massive bluff....we tell the Zenobian's that if they plan to land men on the Moon, we'll launch an all-out offensive to capture or destroy Baikonuerek....this will of course lead to a massive nuclear exchange and the annihilation of both sides.

So it's an easy choice for the Zenobians: concede the race, or both nations die screaming in flames!

---

You are standing on a 4.5 billion year old complex, self-sustaining organic spacship, which is orbiting a power source a million times larger than your ship. There are 200 billion other power sources, many of them with ships like yours, in your fleet. There are 40 other fleets in the immediate neighbourhood and your entire neighbourhood is moving at two million miles per hour towards an object 150 million light years away. Welcome to life, it's a lot more exciting when you think on larger scales.

No problem! We build a New Zenobia on the moon! Meanwhile capitalism is annihilated forever by storms of Proton and N1 ICBMs. The sacrifice of the First Rodina will be unfortunate but necessary.

The thought of N1 based ICBMs is... an interesting one, definatly.

Surely if it's that big it could carry a Tsar Bomba sized warhead, which would flaten stuff quite effectively. On the other hand, wouldn't it also make a rather nice target for ABM stuff?

Also, it had a rubbish track record IIRC.

And I'd like to see you set up a New Zenobia on an airless barren world when your nation is a smoking crater and you have only the supplies you brought with you.

Sure, you can build an airtight dome and O-2 extractors in a week. Too bad your spacesuits only have three days of air left...

---

You are standing on a 4.5 billion year old complex, self-sustaining organic spacship, which is orbiting a power source a million times larger than your ship. There are 200 billion other power sources, many of them with ships like yours, in your fleet. There are 40 other fleets in the immediate neighbourhood and your entire neighbourhood is moving at two million miles per hour towards an object 150 million light years away. Welcome to life, it's a lot more exciting when you think on larger scales.

Actually, the IRL Proton was intended to carry the Tsar Bomba relatively early in its development; in fact, virtually all of the heavy-lift Soviet rockets were sold as ICBMs, since the military, and more specifically the Strategic Rocket Forces, held the purse strings for rocket development. Not only the Proton and N1 were described in this manner, but also Yangel's competing R-56. I'm pretty sure this wasn't serious on the part of the rocket designers; they just wanted an excuse to build their rockets. Obviously in any case the Proton was never used as an ICBM, mainly because of the downward trend in warhead sizes as accuracy went up. That is the origin though of the joke I did a while ago proposing the use of the Vulkon as an ICBM carrying a number of Tsar Bomba MIRVs.

You are quite correct on the N1 IRL, in four tests it had four failures. That won't be the case here, though. As for ABM, you can thank your Robert Strange Space Satan MekratrigNamara for that - you're a little short in that department.

And of course the dome and extractors could be built in three days! Surely you cannot doubt the spirit and strength of the New Zenobian Mang? Three days of Strakhanovite labor would suffice, not like your lazy, inefficient, degenerate, capitalist, week. Weak, more like.

I would never have geussed that you were joking! [/sarcasm]

Also, Vulkan with multiple 50-megatonne MIRV's? YOUCHIES!

---

You are standing on a 4.5 billion year old complex, self-sustaining organic spacship, which is orbiting a power source a million times larger than your ship. There are 200 billion other power sources, many of them with ships like yours, in your fleet. There are 40 other fleets in the immediate neighbourhood and your entire neighbourhood is moving at two million miles per hour towards an object 150 million light years away. Welcome to life, it's a lot more exciting when you think on larger scales.

100 megaton, with the addition of the third stage that was omitted from the device tested because A. they were pretty certain it would work B. to reduce fallout and C. because a 100 megaton blast would likely have destroyed the aircraft used to drop it. It is a scary thing.

Or... was in real life, who knows what the Onion will do with the technology we develop here!

...this just makes that nuclear exchange I mentioned even more devastating. Because with the knowledge that you are building Mighty Missiles (TM) with 100-MT MIRV's, the great MURCAN (fuck yeah) people will DEMAND that we match that firepower.

After all, we cannot allow a MIGHTY MISSILE MIRV GAP!

And then, when the shit hits the fan so hard the fan flies out the window, everybody dies.

So, in order to save everyone, Zenobia must concede!

OOC: Man, I think I must be channelling Shroom right now, my brain is fucked up...

---

You are standing on a 4.5 billion year old complex, self-sustaining organic spacship, which is orbiting a power source a million times larger than your ship. There are 200 billion other power sources, many of them with ships like yours, in your fleet. There are 40 other fleets in the immediate neighbourhood and your entire neighbourhood is moving at two million miles per hour towards an object 150 million light years away. Welcome to life, it's a lot more exciting when you think on larger scales.

There actually were some ideas about how to lay out a Saturn V (or Nova) ICBM launch complex at Cape Canaveral. No one took them too seriously, but it was considered.

Despite what the world may say, we are not savages, we don't kill civilians. We use precision. We don't put hundred-megaton nukes on our ICBMs and flatten whole countries at once. We put a hundred precision nukes on a Saturn V. It's precise.

HAHAHAHA! That's going in the sig, right now.

---

You are standing on a 4.5 billion year old complex, self-sustaining organic spacship, which is orbiting a power source a million times larger than your ship. There are 200 billion other power sources, many of them with ships like yours, in your fleet. There are 40 other fleets in the immediate neighbourhood and your entire neighbourhood is moving at two million miles per hour towards an object 150 million light years away. Welcome to life, it's a lot more exciting when you think on larger scales.

Now, since Mr. Gray's revised plan is approved, before I go and see what sort of explosive failure happens this time, do indicate which crews are to fly the manned docking.

...Gah. Thought I did that already.

Crew IV prime, Crew I backup. Might as well get one flight out of Conrad before he goes bye-bye.

---

Lt. Brown, Mr. Grey, and Comrade Syeriy on Let's Play BARIS

Johny von Braun took another sip of his morning coffee in an attempt to quench the pounding headache he was feeling ever since Congress and Dicky Trick himself grilled him incessantly over his management of the space program.

As usual, the question of the so-called Zenobian "lead" in the race came up often and hard. Despite its glistening slipperyness, Johnny thought he gave a pretty good showing, though with Dicky Trick, you never knew. He could always pull some sort of trick on you.

Another sip. It was Johnny's fifth cup this morning.

His doctor did not approve, but the Director didn't give a shit.

"Ten...nine...eight...seven...six...five...ignition sequence start...three...two...one...ignition...liftoff!"

The fall would be a busy season for MASA. And, from what his intelligence was telling him, the commienists were not planning any more launches. And if his backup plan succeeded...hah! That would be great.

One thing at a time, though. The rocket was lifting off, and the engineer manning the booster station was yelling at the top of his lungs.




"Oh yeah! Work those engines, baby! Work 'em! Shake that booty, fuck yeah! Give it all you've got, ya hot momma!"

He shut up after FIDO bit him. Thank God.



Orbital insertion went just fine, and pretty soon, the rocket which gave so much excitement to the booster engineer hurled its payload at the Moon. Which made the Director even angrier and more sullen, as he remembered the Earth's satellite was not stained with commienism. When Murca finally beat the foul Zenobians to a manned landing, the astronauts would have to bring bleach with themselves, and pour it on that damned probe and its...Lunokhodzik.

What sort of a name was "Lunokhodzik", anyway?





The reports for the Fall's following unmanned missions were not as encouraging as the copious lurid, voyeurising photographs of the lunar surface. As it turned out docking, simple as it sounded in concept (put a probe in the correct port, right? How difficult could that be for true red-blooded Murcan males?) was a bit more technically challenging than first thought.









But, as they say in Murca, one step at a time. Slowly and with tenderness, they would work the docking module, stroking the technical details until everything was firm and well prepared to do its duty.

The research assistant was shaking with excitement, blubbering and drooling all over his papers. Johnny glanced at his watch.

"Very well then, Mr. Strak, I will consider implementing your proposals should the need arise. Now please leave me...", he wanted to say 'alone', but bit his tongue, "...with my many important obligations, jawohl?"

The kid left. Bright one, son of Howard Strak...but he really had to be gently encouraged towards spending his energy on projects that actually mattered. Not that his proposals were bad for an elementary school student, but who the fuck cared about Mercury anymore?

Murca had fucking spaceplanes, for God's sake!

Johnny shook his head and got back to writing a campaign contribution check for Swigert.















The two figures walking about the steppe were anything but inconspicuous. Being surrounded by a batallion of mechanized infantry and escorted by helicopter gunships did that.

But inside the heavily equipped perimeter, they remained undisturbed. For the things they talked about were of utmost importance - the inner politics of the Politburo were not something for ordinary soldiers, even those serving in the NKVDVROM, to hear.

"I am old, Syrgy. Old and tired and cannot fight the Politburo like I used to. And I must say, da, the space program promised grand things, but many are getting impatient. Now with Murcan deployments on the Thanasian border...nyet, Syrgy, I couldn't do more. Especially with loyalty of the brave cosmonaut corps in question...", the older man rambled, "I have secured you decent funding for this year, but I am afraidski you will have to take a hit in 1972. I trust you will make Zenobia great, even at this reduced rate, and even if I do not live long enough to see it."









GM Notes:

The Murcan docking program is obviously off to a rough start, and both sides bled two astronauts each. Murcan astros are more professional though and only retire after two seasons, while Zenobian ones are gone the very next season.

Also, the Zenobians took a budgt hit! It's a good thing they had plenty of prestige, otherwise they might've plunged into pits of despair similar to the Murcans before they started flying the spaceplane. Next season their budget will be well, in short, crap. Especially compared to the heights of spring 1970...

Anyways, the race goes on! As before, new classes of flyboys are available for the usual price of 15 megabucks/megarubloids.

Bearlin, East Thanasia



Agent Squirrel walked the streets of Bearlin, wearing trenchcoat and fedora, as he was undercover and didn't wish to be recognized. From the breaking of the lovely Agent Fetale, and the files on Comrade Moose and his history with the Thanasian people, he now had the location of Fearless Leader and the man's entire enterprise. With this, he could take down the sabotage that Boris Badenov had done to the Murcan Space Program.

There was military buiild up on both sides of the Iron shower drapery. With both the Murcans and the Zenobians building up to war, all it would take is one small spark to start Salvation War III. Agent Squirrel had to use all his guile and training to sneak by both sets of guards. They had let Natasha go, in hopes that she would lead him to her base. It had worked. She had charmed the guards to let her through, which was something that was impossible for Fax, no matter how cute a squirrel was.


Luckily, they were easily fooled by his disguise training.

It had taken him years, but with his squirrel smell training, he had followed her to this factory. Though it looked abandoned, he could feel the heat radiating from the building. They were up to something.

He entered, and saw, to his amazement, Boris Badenov and Natasha Fatale there, in the room. That's when he saw it, it was Comrade Moose, the antlers were pointed at him. They knew he was coming. The door behind him closed and locked, and he saw something even more incredulous, it was Agent Squirrel. The previous Agent Squirrel, and the man was fully living. It was impossible.

That's when he felt himself get faint, and everything go to black.
----

When he emerged, he was staring at them and they were staring at him back. His uniform was off, and he was Fax Modem on the outside, tied to a chair, his Agent Squirrel costume to the side, he was in nothing but his heart underwear and white tank top. He stared at them, wondering why he was still alive.

Then Comrade Moose snapped his fingers, and several attractive women took him to a chair and helped undress him out of the Moose uniform. Comrade Moose was none other, than Von Evilstein, the former director the Zenobian Space Program.



There were scars all over his body. It was a miracle the man was still alive, he snapped again, and the women redressed him in a Second Salvation War Thanasian uniform. Agent Moose, who was Comrade Moose, who was Comrade Evilstein, was Fearless Leader. What was going on?

Fax Modem said as much. "What is going on?"

"Ahh, you are awake." The Thanasian accent was coming out clearly now, no longer muffled by the Moose helmet. "We are what the Politburo believes to be the best Zenobian agents." he said, pointing to Natasha and Boris, "the dead Murcan spies" he said pointing to Agent Squirrel and the Moose costume that was being hung up on a mannequin by the women, "and the washed up insane Thanasian scientist."The man said as he pointed to himself.

"That is all subterfuge. The truth is much more brilliant and too hard for an under-mensch like you to understand. But I will try to help your little mind comprehend my plan. We Thanasians thought the best way to get rid of the Zenobians and the Murcans was to conquer them, but that proved to not be possible. We then agreed to expatriate ourselves to our enemies as the war ended, in hopes that we would reach positions of power when they needed us, and they did. We were put in top positions of power, and with the exception of that Joo lover, Von Braun, we all have stuck to the plan."

The man then went to his desk and grabbed a document from it, holding it up in the air.



"THE GLORIOUS PLAN!" The others in the room saluted at it.

"We needed to rid ourselves of the Joos, but how? We needed access to the Murcan and Zenobian governments. We did by our own merit, my brilliance bringing the Zenobians into space, but then the Joos infiltrated the Politburo and cast me out of it right when they were on the brink of success." Froth was coming from his mouth, he was starting to wave his arms while ranting, Boris and Natasha looked inspired.

"They put things in me, contaminated me. Made one of them. Only through this will I be allowed to purge myself of the Joo contamination."

"In less than an hour, the Zenobian reinforcements will arrive, when that happens, they will suddenly find themselves within rifle distance of the Murcans. And what should happen? Both sides will have bombs blown up by opposite sides foreign spies. IT SHALL IGNITE SALVATION WAR III, AND BEARLIN SHALL WITNESS THE DEATH OF ITS ENEMIES!" The man cackled with laughter at his plan.

Fax looked around the room, all three of the spies were totally happy with their deaths in this plan.



How was this possible? Unless...

The Zenobian scientist walked towards him, revealing a pocket watch, he swung it back and forth, in front of Fax's eyes. That's how he got them to do what was needed. And if he didn't do something, he was next. Remembering his training, Fax was Agent Squirrel, even if he was out of uniform. He did the only thing he could.

One snap of his fingers, and the three spies were totally different people. They lunged at each other, fighting. Moose charged at Boris, his antlers aiming for the man's sizable figure. Natasha and Squirrel pulled at each other's hair, engaged in Squirrel Level 5 and Femme Fatale Level 8, each one bouncing around the room. That's when they hit Fearless Leader, and he fell to the floor, his pocket watch breaking with a noticeable crack. The man screamed. "I'm not beaten yet!"

That's when all four of them noticed Evilstein. Beware the anger of a used Zenobian woman, for she will your life hell. She started kicking the Thanasian, screaming something in Zenobian about Burgers and Fries, and then started ranting about giving a Thanasian bootlicker massages . That's when Squirrel freed Fax. Fax nodded to his elder, and the men in the room watched the kicking. Nothing but soft whimpers coming from his head.

Fax yelled to Squirrel. "Cover your ears." Fax snapped his fingers again.

The kicking stopped. Natasha and Boris were still and quiet again, their faces happy. Squirrel grabbed a rope from a corner in the room, and tied the Thanasian with the two Zenobian spies.



It was over, and Salvation War III wouldn't happen, at least, not by Evilstein's doing. Fax Modem was happy, until he noticed something was wrong, there was still one thing left unexplained.

"What about your body?" He asked the spy.

"Natasha used a real dead squirrel to fake my death." The man smiled. Fax redressed in his Squirrel uniform, his mission was complete. Boris was captured, and he could go onto his next mission. He activated the radio in his uniform, signaling the mysterious man in Grey. It was time for him to return to Murca. Fax Modem was dead. Agent Squirrel was still alive and they didn't need a second. Maybe it was time for him to become someone else. Someone that wasn't an animal, but also someone that was, NotModem.

---

"I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed,or numbered. I am a free man. My life is my own" Number 6
The Prisoner

"Comrade Moose was none other, than Von Evilstein, the former director the Zenobian Space Program."



They're not only hunchbacked, now they are sprouting HORNS! Antlers!

Perfect.

---

shroom is a lovely boy and i wont hear a bad word against him - LUSY-CHAN!
Shit! Man, I didn't think of that! It took Shroom to properly interpret the screams of dying people - PeZook
Shroom, I read out the stuff you write about us. You are an endless supply of morale down here. :p - an OWS street medic
Pink Sugar Heart Attack!

Aww crap, I made the mannequin charge at Boris, oh well. That's what happens when I badly edit the scene.

---

"I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed,or numbered. I am a free man. My life is my own" Number 6
The Prisoner

God damn our budget noooo, thank gods we got the N-1 started when we did.

Comrade Director, we're going to need significant prestiege boosts to counter this budget cut, how soon can we do the Zond flyby?