USKK: Jebediah Kerman's Personal Retreat, twenty minutes earlier.

Jebediah jogged towards his plane. Being the Director of an entire Space Program sure did have its perks, a private jet was only one of them. This launch facility had been constructed as a backup to the main Space Centre while renovations were underway. Now that they were complete and main operations had been moved back south, Jeb had decided to make this base his own special getaway, where he could plan the future of the Space Program, meet with important bigwigs, and most importantly, get some flying in once in a while. At the moment, he was indeed indulging in the latter, as the launch of the USKK's newest kerballed mission was about to commence and he needed to get down to the Space Centre quickly!

Climbing the ladder, Jeb gave a thumbs-up to the ground crew. As the cockpit glass slid shut over his head, he powered on the instruments and began the preflight checklist. As the jet engine spooled up, he pulled on his helmet. This was always his favourite part of the launch; the vibration of the plane gently increased in frequency, whispering to him of the journey ahead.

Flight! To think that barely a year ago, kerbals could only stare up at the sky wistfully, dreaming of touching the Mun and the stars. He marvelled at the ability of the scientists and engineers that had made this all possible, not to mention the others. The entire Space Program would have been nothing but a tiny government-run sideshow (much like the CKFN's) if the large corporations of the USKK hadn't pooled their resources and funded his dream.

A crackle in his earpiece brought him out of his reverie.

"You ready to fly, Jeb?" asked the ground controller.

"Roger that, Tower. All systems are green, and engines are spooled up," he responded. Upon receiving clearance to head out, Jeb disengaged the brakes, taxied down the runway, and took off into the clear blue skies.

"Big J to KSC-1, Big J to KSC-1, do you read me, over?"

"*sigh* Hi Jeb." The voice of the ever-suffering Gene came over Jeb's headset.

"Jeb? Who is this Jeb? On the radio, you have to refer to me as 'Big J', remember, over?" replied Jeb, trying to get a rise out of the kerbal.

"Yeah, sure. 'Big J', what's your status? …Over?" Gene responded, somehow pronouncing the quotation marks.

"So glad you asked, KSC-1, I'm flying high and fast, it's a beautiful day for a launch! How's Jorfred doing, over?"

"Oh, I can put you through to him personally." Some static came over the radio, "There you are, Fred."

"D-director Jeb! It is a pleasure to speak with y-you, sir!" The kerbonaut sounded quite nervous, though whether for the launch or simply the opportunity to talk with the space program's Director, Jeb wasn't sure.

"There's no need to call me 'sir', just call me Jeb. How are you feeling?"

"I'm doing well, sir Jeb! I'm all set to head into space. It's going to be my first time up there, and I'm worried I'm not going to do a good job!"

"Don't worry, Jorfred. You'll do fine. Gene, what's the status on the rocket?"

"She's ready to launch, the countdown stands at ten minutes, and we're ready to proceed as soon as you get here."

"Perfect. Keep me updated."

Five minutes out from KSC, Jeb's earpiece crackled to life again.

"What's up Gene?"

"Uh…you're going to want to see this, boss."

"See what? What's going on? Is Kaether IV still operational?"

"Yes, the rocket's fine, but it's…well…we picked up a CKFN news broadcast."

"So? They're always covering useless stuff. Like cabbage sales! Who cares about cabbages anyway?"

"This time it's different. They're covering footage from their space program."

"Their space program? But it's a secret government project. The only way they could be covering footage is if…"

"They declassified the program. Somebody in the CKFN wants attention."

"I'll say. They must be getting desperate for funding. So what's the subject?"

"I'm not sure. Right now the Director of their space program is leading the news crews into their VAB."

"Heh, he's probably trying to pass off whatever collection of junk they're working on as their next rocket!"

"Ha ha, judging by the state of that place, it doesn't look like you're too far off! Wait, they're focusing on some sort of capsule…what's this?"

"Gene?"

"It can't be…oh good SQUAD it is. They're working on a spacecraft-that can carry two kerbals!"

"What? Two kerbals?" Jeb sat back in his seat, letting the full enormity of this piece of news wash over him. Having a second kerbal on a mission would enable tremendous new opportunities for missions. The second pair of hands could operate experiments, take pictures, even pilot the spacecraft while the first kerbonaut was busy. The idea had been tossed around by his scientists and engineers, but no one had dared build such a design, as the current generation of rockets was barely powerful enough to lift one kerbal.

Gathering his wits, Jeb reactivated the comm. "When are they expecting to launch?"

"Within the month. What should we do, boss?"

"I don't know Gene…I just don't know." Jeb pondered his options. On one hand, he could launch Jorfred right now, and claim a total of four kerballed missions to space. However, launching a single pod right after the CKFN had announced their larger, more advanced model smacked of ignorance and failure. On the other hand, he could hold off launching until they had developed a two-kerbal capsule of their own, but that might take too much time. What to do?

"Boss, the boys in Mission Control are getting anxious. They want to know how we'll proceed."

As Gene's voice entered his ear, Jeb dropped below the clouds, seeing the Space Centre directly beneath him, with Kaether IV sitting on the launchpad, Jorfred secured away inside.

Looking at the rocket, Jeb was struck with an idea. Coming to a decision, Jeb spoke. "We're scrubbing the launch. Get Jorfred out of the ship, but don't dismantle it just yet…I have a plan."

USKK: Two weeks later

Things were as hectic as ever in the VAB, as the countdown ticked once more towards launch. Gene Kerman strode through a knot of scientists inspecting gauges and readouts plugged into the rocket, which had been wheeled back into the VAB. Approaching the Lead Engineer, Gene spoke up.

"Danbro! How are the systems coming along? You said they'd be done by this morning!"

Turning around, Danbro replied. "Not a problem, bro. We're just having a bit of difficulty with the electric systems, the added pod draws too much power. Burmy here was suggesting we just add more batteries," he gestured to the kerbal to his immediate right, whose suggestion evidently was popular, by the amount of nodding and thumbs up given by the surrounding crowd.

To tell the truth, Gene did not know (nor care) how this rocket worked. It was his job to make sure they got into the sky, nothing more. So it was with feigned knowledge he replied: "Sure, sure, that would work well. Attach those batteries and make sure we are good to launch before 3. I want this ship in space before dark."

"Roger that, bud!" Danbro said with a smile. Turning back to his group of engineers, he motioned them into work.

Gene continued along, looking up at the rocket. Fundamentally, it was not much different from its original model, the Kaether IV. While most of the systems hadn't changed, the most striking addition was the welding of an additional pod upside-down on top of the original. More changes were the boosters along the bottom of the ship, which widened its base significantly. Spotting Bill, along with another couple engineers next to one of the boosters, Gene rushed over, checking his clipboard. It was Jebediah's idea to add larger, higher thrust boosters to the original Kaether rocket in order to lift the additional pod. These newly-designed 'Solid Rocket Boosters' suited his plans very nicely.

"What's the status on the SRBs, Bill?" Gene asked, feeling proud that he knew the acronym for the boosters. Knowing the lingo for parts was very important for if he was to appear knowledgeable about rockets.

"Hi Gene. They're good to go, but Desdan here wants to add more struts to make sure they're properly secured to the rocket on liftoff. I say that the decouplers are more than strong enough, and besides, we're dumping them about 90 seconds into flight, so they won't have much time to vibrate loose. What's your opinion?"

More policy choices! What did people think he was, a rocket scientist? "Uh, how long will attaching the struts take?"

"Anywhere from two to six days. We don't have the necessary parts on hand, so we'd have to order them specially."

While Gene did not understand much about rockets, timetables were his forte. "Nope. That's too much of a delay. We're already behind schedule enough as it is. Bill's right, Desdan."

Desdan looked crestfallen, but Bill was thrilled. "Perfect! Once Danbro finishes with the electrical systems, we should be ready to roll the rocket out to the launchpad!"

Even as he spoke, Danbro's posse advanced towards the rocket, with AAAA batteries and what looked suspiciously like duct tape in hand.

USKK: Three hours later

Gene was satisfied. From his usual position in Mission Control, he noted that the rocket had been rolled out ahead of schedule, and all systems checked out.

"Jorfred, Erdrin, what's your status?" he asked, toggling the comms.

"Roger that Control, we're strapped in and systems are reading good" came the voice of Erdrin, the kerbal sitting in the lower pod.

"Excellent, all systems are go on this end, preparing to restart the countdown."

The big countdown timer at the front of the room restarted from its position at 5:00:00, and it was at this moment when Jebediah walked into the room, still in his flight suit. He had evidently just returned from his private island.

"So glad you could make the launch," said Gene, with perhaps more than just a touch of sarcasm.

"Sorry!" Jeb responded, with his usual enthusiasm. "A couple of CEOs from our sponsorship group wanted to talk. They were saying something about 'increasing public visibility' and 'profit margins', but it's not important right now. We've got a rocket to launch!"

"That we do," said Gene, turning back to the staff in Mission Control. "Alright people, double and triple-check those systems! We're now at three minutes to launch!"

Jorfred switched on his internal communicator and radioed his partner.

"Say, Erdrin, how are you doing?"

"Good, I'm excited to go back to space! How about you? You sound nervous."

"Uh…nope, I'm just excited too!"

Jorfred quickly turned off the comm. To tell the truth, he was nervous, but didn't want to reveal it to his partner, or Harv forbid, the Ground Control team. They might take him off this mission! He'd already been denied that chance once before, and he was going to space today, yessiree. However, sitting in the upper capsule was not much fun. Since Erdrin scored lower than he in the centrifuge, he'd be riding upside-down the whole way up, and thus taking more negative g forces.

He'd asked around, questioning kerbals who had also experienced negative g's what it was like. Unfortunately, the experiences were universally negative. One kerbal had explained in excruciating detail the discomfort you felt as you were dragged out of your seat, the straps digging into you as if an invisible hand was attempting to pluck you from your capsule. And Jorfred would have to endure this for the whole way up!

Already he was getting sore from sitting upside-down in the 1 g of Kerbin's gravity. He couldn't imagine what the launch would be like. As the radio informed them that one minute remained on the countdown, he began cursing the engineers and scientists who had decided to place the pod this way. 'Increased protection upon reentry,' they had said. 'It just looks nicer,' they said (Indeed, Danbro had commented at length on the importance of a good hourglass figure). Jorfred knew that if they'd taken extra time to refit the interior so that he was sitting right-side-up, it would have resulted in the CKFN launching their twin-kerbal pod first, and that certainly couldn't be allowed. Though it was quite difficult to feel very patriotic when sitting upside-down in a tiny capsule, straps digging into one's chest.

Then came the crackle of the radio Jorfred dreaded.

"Twenty seconds until launch"

Well, at least he was going to space. From the stories the others told, as well as the pictures they brought back, it ought to be incredible.

"Fifteen"

Still, he wished he was at least facing the right way up, though in zero-g he wouldn't have to worry about that, right?

"Ten. All systems nominal"

He was glad that he didn't have to worry about piloting the ship, Erdrin was taking over that job since she'd had more experience flying rockets. She'd actually been in orbit twice in the last two months, and was the natural choice for piloting an as-of-yet untested rocket. All he had to do was grin and bear it.

"Five"

"Four"

"Three"

Jorfred squeezed his eyes shut.

"Two"

"One"

His world erupted into one of noise, vibration, and pain. The shaking alone was nearly unbearable, it caused his headset to start vibrating its way around his helmet. Not that he paid much attention to what was being said over it; the deep bass rumble from the rocket engines combined with the endless shaking served to drown out all other noise. But this all paled in comparison to the sheer pressure being applied to his back. Forget the invisible hand, this felt like a hydraulic ram forcing him forwards in his seat.

Opening his eyes did not improve the situation. The interior of the capsule was a blur; the vibrations of the main engine prevented him from focusing on any one point inside the ship.

His eyes feeling like they were about to escape his skull certainly did not help his vision. More worryingly, though, Jorfred began seeing black spots encroach upon his field of view. His vision slowly darkened, as it became more and more difficult to draw breath. The straps keeping him in his seats were like twin brands burning across his chest, but even that pain began to dull as his vision faded. His last thoughts as he drifted away were worries about whether he'd ever get to see Kerbin from space.

Jorfred was floating in the ocean. No wind, no waves, just bobbing along gently, so gently. Save for the occasional squawk of an annoying seabird in his ear, that is. As his mind slowly began to come back to reality, he realized that he was in fact not doing the backfloat on a sunny Kerbin afternoon, but instead in a cramped, dark capsule, hovering above his seat. Wait…where were his straps? In a daze, he fumbled around, only to find that one was still over his shoulder, but the other had snapped cleanly away from where it joined with the capsule. Lousy engineers, he grumbled to himself. Now that he was more awake, he did a quick once-over of himself. He was still clad within his flight suit, rated for only high-altitude flight, not the hard vacuum on the other side of his capsule's walls. While the suit looked fine, his body did not feel well at all. He ached all over, and his eyes wouldn't focus right. He had a killer headache, to match the two pains down his front where the straps had been. He wouldn't be surprised if he found himself sporting bruises for a very long time after he'd landed.

Looking through the window, he spotted the planet Kerbin. He'd seen the pictures, but they always lacked a certain…something. The yellow-spotted dark blue curve outside his window was magnificent, made more so by being the only home he, and indeed every other kerbal throughout history had ever known. Despite knowing that pictures wouldn't fully capture the sight of the planet, he began searching for his camera…only to be met with a stabbing pain in his side. He'd only been given a basic first aid course at the Kerbonaut Training Centre, but he knew enough to self-diagnose a broken rib. Great. Just great, he thought to himself. But before he could get to patching himself up, the calls of his partner reached him over his headset, the 'annoying seabird' of earlier.

"Calling all frequencies, this is Erdrin Kerman aboard the Uranus I. My crewmate is not responding, and am out of contact with my ground station. Repeat, this is-"

"Erdrin, don't worry! I'm fine!" reassured Jorfred, slightly hoarsely.

"Thank SQUAD you're alright! You've only been out for about ten minutes, but I didn't realize it until we had passed out of range of Ground Control. I don't blame you for passing out though; that takeoff was much rougher than usual!"

"Well, other than a few bruises and a headache, I survived!" Jorfred purposely neglected to mention his other injuries, just in case she and Control decided to end the mission early. He was going to tough this mission out! Who knew when he'd get another shot at this?

"That's good to hear. Anyways, we should be about fifteen minutes away from passing back over USKK territory, we should be able to get a signal then. Did you receive much of a briefing of what we're supposed to be doing up here? I think somebody stuck a thermometer or something on the side."

Nursing his side, Jorfred tried to recall. He'd been too excited to pay much attention at the time. "Uh…not that I can remember, no. I think this mission was planned just to beat the CKFN's launch. It's pretty much the Kaether V with an extra capsule thrown on top. I'm glad they decided to change the name though."

"Really? I liked how they added a 'k' to the front of the Aether's name, it was a clever touch; it showed that it's a kerballed version of the Aether probe!"

"True, but now it seems people are starting to add 'k's to every single word out there. I even saw an ad for 'konuts' the other day!"

"Hey, if it keeps people interested in the Space Program, I don't mind. At least we don't have to resort to press conferences like the CKFN did!"

"I agree, that looked like a madhouse." Jorfred realized they were passing over that very nation right now. Despite being over one hundred kilometres away, he still felt uncomfortable talking about it, fearing those newskerbals may be listening in. "I wonder if-ow!"

In Jorfred's efforts to look for his first aid kit, he had inadvertently and very painfully discovered that he had also damaged his left knee in some way.

"What's wrong, Fred?"

"Er…nothing. Just banged my head on the side of the capsule."

"Wow, you're out of your straps already? I didn't even unbuckle until my second mission-I was too scared."

"Heh…it was sort of a spur of the moment thing, y'know?"

"Totally, being out of your seat is amazing. You can't maneuver much in these capsules, but it feels like flying!"

"…It sure does," Jorfred certainly did not feel like he was flying. He'd braced himself in his seat to prevent any aggrivation of his injuries. Fortunately, the rest of him was undamaged, his vision had improved, and even his headache was starting to fade. He did see the truth in Erdrin's words, though. Up here, far above the clouds, above the petty squabbling of nations, one felt truly free. He gazed at the lights of cities below, trying to imagine each individual kerbal going about his or her daily life. Did they even pay attention to the skies above? Did they see the stars through the clouds, or even dare to dream of visiting them one day? Based on his past experiences, he estimated that the majority did not, but there were a certain few who put all logic aside and looked up with a passion.

Jorfred had always been one of those few kerbals, and look where he was now! The journey had certainly been hard, long, and painful (most especially so recently), but it had most certainly been worth it. As the Space Centre came back into range of their antenna and communication began in earnest again, he gazed out the window one more time and stared at the endless vista of stars.