Things are moving along, if not as quickly as I might have liked.
As of today, I’ve finished initial layout for Architect of Worlds through Step Twenty-Seven in the design sequence (world albedo). At this point I need to do a little research and possibly reworking of the mini-model for atmospheric greenhouse effect. Once that’s done, I think I’ll be able to finish editorial work on the next few steps in the design sequence, and get those laid out in the interim draft. Probably won’t be able to get all the way to the end this month, but we’ll see.
Meanwhile, I need to write up two book reviews and get those posted before the end of May.
Some of my time has been taken up by a Muse-inspired side trip. I’ve been binge-watching the entire Star Wars continuity – the current canon, not the pre-Disney “Legends” canon. Kind of kicking myself for not having picked up on that earlier. The theatrical films are, of course, something of a muddle. On the other hand, the animated shows and the Disney+ mini-series have been superb. The experience has been tickling my world-building brain something fierce.
The concept that’s taken up residence in my head involves a kind of “alternate history” of the Skywalker Saga, with the (overt) point of divergence that Qui-Gon Jinn survives the Battle of Theed and lives to take Anakin Skywalker on as his student. I’m also indulging in some rampant speculation about the motives that Sheev Palpatine might have had for his decades-long campaign to subvert and take over the Galactic Republic. I may end up with a pretty solid outline for a divergent Star Wars RPG campaign, although actually running it for players (or writing a fan-fiction series on the premise) is probably out of the question. I’ll probably write it up here as time permits, rather like the Space: 2049 material I’ve been playing with at odd moments.
Don’t worry. Architect and my other top-shelf projects aren’t going to be neglected. Much.
For my patrons, I think you can expect to see a free-update of the Architect partial draft, with as much new material as I’ve been able to edit and lay out in May. No charged release for this month.
Small course correction, with respect to Architect of Worlds.
A few minutes ago, I sent this month’s incremental update of the book design to my patrons. That’s a few days early and about 12 pages short of the goal I set for myself at the beginning of April.
The reason is that I just reached Step Twenty-Four in the main design sequence. That’s the step in which you determine the current geophysical parameters for a world under development – status of the world’s lithosphere, whether or not it has active plate tectonics, that sort of thing. The issue is that there are a couple really thorny bits of math in that step, probably the ugliest formulae anywhere in the previous draft. I’m also not entirely confident in the accuracy of the mini-model for that step. So I’d like to pause the layout long enough to do a bit of research, maybe develop a new mini-model, and simplify the procedure so it’s not as ugly and ill-polished.
While I’m at it, I also have similar concerns about some of the later steps, especially where we figure out how much greenhouse effect a world gets from its atmosphere based on its composition. I’m actually very happy with the way that procedure fits together overall – it models the evolution of an Earthlike world’s atmosphere very elegantly. However, the actual mini-model for greenhouse effect is again both ugly and not one I’m 100% confident in. So that might get some attention too.
So I’m going to set aside layout work on Architect for at least a few days, while I go off and do some of that redevelopment. In the meantime, I’m just one chapter away from the point in Twice-Crowned at which I was thinking another charged release of the interim draft for my patrons might be appropriate. So the last few days of April, I’m going to spend mostly on getting that chapter written and polishing up the last chunk of new material. Patrons should look for a charged release there, probably sometime on Sunday if all goes according to plan.
I also have another “bonus” book review I want to publish this month, but that will have to wait until I’m sure I can get this chunk of Twice-Crowned whipped into shape on time. if that doesn’t work out, at least I have a review ready to go early in May.
Here’s a neat little bit of “new science” that I might be able to quickly build into Architect of Worlds while I continue editing and laying out the release draft.
The idea is that Jupiter, just after its formation, was probably much more luminous than it is today due to its heat of accretion. Its luminosity might have been as high as about 0.00001 times the current solar level. That doesn’t sound like much, but with the Galilean satellites (Io, Europa, Ganymede, Callisto) orbiting so close to the young, hot Jupiter, they would have undergone a period of extreme heating. It wouldn’t have lasted long – Jupiter would have cooled off and ceased to radiate so enthusiastically – but it seems to have been enough to drive off a lot of water ice and other volatiles.
Notice that Io, the closest to Jupiter, is almost free of water ice to this day. Which makes sense – in its first few million years, Io would have been getting over 30 times as much irradiation from Jupiter as it currently gets from the Sun. More than enough to melt and then boil water ices, and then drive the resulting water vapor into space. For Europa and Ganymede the effect wouldn’t have been as pronounced, which is why those moons still have plenty of ice today.
At present, the Architect of Worlds design sequence has a weird kludge in place to differentiate Io-like from Europa-like or Ganymede-like gas giant moons. It shouldn’t be too difficult to replace that with a rough estimate of a gas giant primary’s early luminosity, which (when taken with the moon’s orbital radius) will indicate how much irradiation the moon got early in its history. Particularly important for super-Jupiters, which we’ve already observed plenty of and for which the design sequence certainly allows.
I think I may also rearrange some text between Steps Sixteen (world density and surface gravity) and Seventeen (placing moons). Right now that’s the only place in the design sequence where you implicitly have to back up a step – after you place a moon in Seventeen, you may want to go back to Sixteen to determine its density and so on. Easy enough to move some of the pertinent text forward, so you can figure out a moon’s properties in the same step when you place it. That’ll also allow me to insert the new computation at a convenient place in the sequence.
Apparently some modeling work had been done to try to find the boundary between “planet-like” and “comet-like” water-rich objects. The distinction (in this specific context) is that “planet-like” objects can have atmosphere and liquid surface water, whereas “comet-like” objects can’t – they either retain water ice on their surface, or they lose their water entirely. The models pointed in the direction of surprisingly small objects falling into the “planet-like” domain – rocky planets or moons with as little as 2.7% of Earth’s mass could be “habitable” in this sense.
Naturally, that led me to raise an eyebrow, given that the Architect of Worlds design sequence is decidedly not going to give us worlds that small with liquid surface water. One of the reasons I wrote Architect in the first place was as a reaction against early planet-design sequences, in games like Traveller, which sometimes gave us those really implausible cases of worlds as small as Luna with Earthlike atmospheres and oceans. Had I been operating under a false assumption all along?
So I tracked down the actual paper: “Atmospheric Evolution on Low-gravity Waterworlds” (Astrophysical Journal, August 2019). If I’m reading this right, this is one of those cases where the Architect model probably doesn’t need to be adjusted to fit new science.
What the paper seems to be saying is that even some of these very low-mass worlds might be able to retain an atmosphere and liquid surface water. It looks primarily at the possibility of a runaway greenhouse, and at the mechanism of hydrodynamic escape for water. It doesn’t seem to address the possibility of simple thermal or Jeans escape, and it doesn’t take photodissociation into account at all. So it’s only looking at some of the mechanisms for atmospheric or water loss . . . and even so, these low-gravity worlds aren’t going to retain atmosphere or water indefinitely. What the authors have shown is that under ideal conditions, some of these small worlds may be able to retain liquid-water oceans for a while – up to a billion years or so. Which is interesting, but it doesn’t tell us anything about a long-term stable state, much less the possibility of the evolution of a local biosphere.
Architect generally assumes that the planetary systems you design with it are stable on several-billion-year timescales. Planets and systems of moons aren’t going to be crashing into each other, planetary surface conditions aren’t going to be in a state of rapid change. Which means the Architect model isn’t designed to look at edge cases like these, which are only likely to appear in very young star systems.
To astronomers, “habitable” means “there can be liquid water right now.” Which can include worlds that are not going to be at all comfortable for humans without environment suits and sealed habitats. It can also include worlds, as here, where the “habitable” state is more or less transient.
So in this case I’m not seeing the need to adjust my design sequences as they stand. It occurs to me that it might be worthwhile to provide some material on system or planetary states that aren’t long-term stable, so the reader can place some outliers. Planets that are likely to collide sometime in the next few thousand years, say, or tiny worlds like these with a surprising amount of free water on hand. For the moment, I think that’s going to be delayed until I write a second edition of the book.
Things are moving right along on Architect of Worlds. I’m confident that I’ll be able to hit my objective of page 70 out of 180 by the end of this month, and probably a few pages beyond that. So while I’m working on Architect, I’m also giving some thought to what’s likely to be my next big RPG project: Fourth Millennium.
Fourth Millennium is envisioned as an alternate-historical fantasy, set in the Mediterranean world sometime in the middle of what we would think of as the first century BCE. The setting is the same one in which I’m writing the novel Twice-Crowned – I’ve already written a few short pieces in it too, and will likely write more as the muse moves me.
The underlying game system is probably going to be the Cypher System from Monte Cook Games, under their (very generous) creative license. Assuming I live and stay motivated long enough to produce the whole thing, it’s going to have three major components:
The core Cypher System-compatible rules for building characters and roleplaying in the setting, with rules for not only personal-combat-heavy adventures, but mass combat, social and political conflict, and so on. There will be a magic system based heavily around spirit-derived and divine magic, with a strong trace of neo-Platonist hermeticism as well.
A gazetteer of the Mediterranean world in the setting, somewhat familiar from our own history, but also full of divergences (a surviving Minoan-derived state, a Roman Republic that hasn’t been quite as fortunate but still has the potential to conquer widely, an emerging Hellenistic world-empire derived from the Alexandrian οἰκουμένη, and so on).
At least one One Ring– or Pendragon-inspired “grand campaign” that organizes adventures in annual cycles, letting characters start out as minor figures, work their way up to being movers and shakers, and change the course of the setting’s future history. So (e.g.) in a Roman Grand Campaign, characters might start out as clients supporting an ambitious Roman senator, but while assisting him they would build up their own wealth and clout, eventually setting out on the cursus honorum and standing for the offices of praetor and consul in their own right, all the while dealing with the perennial crises facing the Republic.
It’s that last item that has me cogitating heavily. I’m concerned that a single book that contains all three of these components is going to be huge, especially if I go all-in on building multiple interlocking Grand Campaigns based on different cultures. I could see building at least three of those: one set in the Roman Republic, one in the Hellenistic empire, one in the Minoan-derived culture that occupies an uneasy space between the two.
So suppose I instead build a single book that contains character-design and adventuring rules, the extra rules needed to support Grand Campaign play, and the gazetteer describing the setting. That book would be enough for players and GMs to build their own adventures and campaigns. Big, but not outrageously so. Then there would be one or more follow-on books that describe each Grand Campaign in detail.
The thing I’m wrestling with is, which campaign book to plan to work on first.
The Roman book would have the advantage of being the most well-documented in primary sources and extant fiction, and the most familiar to the audience. No trouble building a plausible political and social system here, with plenty of room for adventures. Of course, Roman society was very problematic by modern standards – strong misogyny, a very equivocal view of LGBT+ behavior and lives, rampant slave-holding. Good portion of the audience would probably be repelled by that, even if I were to work hard to provide alternatives.
The Hellenistic book would be most attractive to me, given that I’m a Hellenophile of long standing, but it would carry a lot of disadvantages. Primary-source documentation of the details of society and politics among the Hellenistic kingdoms isn’t as rich, since most our sources were (of course) Roman. I’d have a harder time developing social and grand-campaign mechanisms for this piece of the setting to the same level of detail. Maybe not quite as much values dissonance for the audience, but the difference would be pretty slim. Hellenistic societies tended to be just as nasty as the Roman by modern standards.
The Minoan-derived society would have its own set of trade-offs. In this case, I’d be making the details up almost out of whole cloth – we’re talking about a culture that just didn’t exist in the corresponding era of our real-world history. Which would probably mean that I’d have to work all the harder to get the audience on board, since this would be the most historical-fantasy piece of the setting. On the other hand, the post-Minoans would be a lot less problematic for the modern audience – very little misogyny or patriarchy, a much more liberal view of LGBT+ people, slavery present but not nearly as prevalent as in Rome or the Hellenistic world. Not to mention, this society’s location between the other two would add a certain degree of tension and potential conflict to the setting, possibly helping to engage the audience.
Mental note: this project is really going to need some effort spent on consent-and-safety tools.
So yeah, in the short run I’m not going to need to make any decisions, but by the time Architect is in release and I’m starting to produce rough-draft material for Fourth Millennium, I’m going to have to have a lot of this figured out.
I’d be interested in hearing from my readers and patrons on this one. If you have any interest in Fourth Millennium at all, which of the three grand-campaign sourcebooks do you think you’d find most interesting and useful? Feel free to drop me a comment or an email if you have any insight.
I came across this article a few days ago, and it’s making me think I need to make a small adjustment to the Architect of Worlds planetary design sequence: “Astronomers identify a new class of habitable planet” (Astronomy.com, September 2021).
The case in question is one that we should all have been aware of for a while: super-Earths with very dense atmospheres dominated by hydrogen, with deep world-spanning liquid-water oceans. Architect would call these Class 2 (Dulcinea-type, after Mu Arae c) worlds with Massive prevalence of water.
The problem is that if these worlds are too warm, the current Architect design sequence quickly turns them into Class 1 (Venus-type) worlds: very hot due to a runaway greenhouse, but very dry because their primordial oceans have been boiled away and lost to photodissociation. But if I understand the physics correctly, this shouldn’t happen in these specific cases.
If a Dulcinea-type world has a rocky surface, it’s buried under many kilometers of ocean, and atmospheric heat isn’t going to bake carbon dioxide out of the rocks to cause a runaway greenhouse. Now, these worlds are likely to have a ton of water vapor in their atmospheres, and water vapor is itself a really effective greenhouse gas. But that doesn’t seem likely to boil the ocean itself away. With a really dense atmosphere, the boiling point of water soars and you can keep liquid-water oceans with surface temperatures well above 370 K. Meanwhile, these worlds aren’t going to lose their water due to photodissociation, because they’re massive enough to retain molecular hydrogen anyway. Any water vapor that gets into the upper atmosphere may break down due to high-energy sunlight, but the hydrogen won’t just fly off into space, it’ll stick around to recombine with oxygen again.
Fortunately I think adjusting for this will be an easy fix in the Architect draft, something I can do on the fly while I’m doing the rough layout. Basically, I’ll build an exception into the sequence for Dulcinea-types, forbidding them to make the usual transition to a runaway greenhouse somewhere just above a blackbody temperature of 300 K. I may need to add a provision in the procedure to compute surface temperature for these worlds – if they’re already hot, they’re going to have a fierce greenhouse due to water vapor in the atmosphere and yet will still keep their liquid-water envelope.
These strike me as odd worlds to call “habitable,” although in the scientific literature astronomers generally use that word to just mean “probably has liquid water.” You could theoretically land on one of these, but it wouldn’t be a remotely shirt-sleeve environment for humans.
The core of the Architect of Worlds design sequence is the series of steps in which the user places planets in orbit around a given star. Right now, that’s Steps Nine through Twelve:
Step Nine: Structure of Protoplanetary Disk
Step Ten: Outer Planetary System
Step Eleven: Inner Planetary System
Step Twelve: Eccentricity of Planetary Orbits
This is the section of the design sequence that’s been rewritten the most times, largely driven by the discovery of new exoplanets or new planetary systems in formation over the past few years. It works . . . but it doesn’t work well. Frankly, it’s a mess, it requires a lot of complicated and fiddly special cases, and I’m told it’s a bear to try to automate.
I’ve been thinking about doing yet another rewrite, as part of the process of producing a fully integrated draft of the book for the first time.
Now, as often happens, this gets into a peculiarity of my design process. There are times when I go for days or even weeks without writing a single word on a given project, because I’m chewing on some thorny problem. In a novel, it might be a bit of plot or character development that isn’t coming clear. In a game design, it’s a mechanic or subsystem that doesn’t want to work the way I would like. In either case, I do a convincing imitation of a writer who’s creatively blocked – but that’s not really the case. What’s really happening is that my brain is mulling over the problem with every spare cycle. Eventually, usually at the subconscious level, some inspiration comes along and I see a way forward.
I’m not quite at that point with this piece of Architect, but I think I’m getting close.
The way the system works now, you start by sketching out the mass and structure of the protoplanetary disk. Then you place planets roughly in the order in which they form – gas giants due to disk instability first, then gas giants due to rapid accretion, then rocky terrestrial worlds in the inner system. The results of each step can affect the parameters of the next, of course. That means lots of special cases where you have to put constraints on a mechanic, or where you have to fiddle with the outcome to make it fit.
This gets particularly annoying when the mechanics for planetary migration (i.e., movement inward or outward across the disk during formation) interact with the final placement of planetary orbits. Easy to get a case where you’re placing planets later in the process and you get an arrangement that interferes with planets you placed earlier on. Annoying.
So it occurred to me, possibly some night recently while I was drifting off to sleep, that I could just turn the whole process on its head. Instead of placing the young planets and then using a bunch of rules to shift them around due to disk migration and other factors, why not just do something like the following:
Determine with a few random numbers and table lookups how many planets survive the formation process in each of the three categories (disk-instability gas giants, rapid-accretion gas giants, rocky terrestrials). Assume these three categories of planets always fall in that order, outer orbits to inner.
Determine the orbital radii of the innermost planet and the outermost planet.
Space all the other planetary orbits more or less evenly in between, using a procedure that won’t generate impossible cases that have to be fixed.
Then, and only then, generate the masses of each planet.
One of the neat features of a system like this is that it can take into account things like disk migration and a Grand Tack for the system’s largest gas giant, without having to explicitly recapitulate all that evolution. If there aren’t any rocky terrestrials, that must mean that your innermost rapid-accretion gas giant migrated inward and stayed close to its primary, a “hot Jupiter.” If there are several rocky terrestrials, then that gas giant either didn’t migrate in very far, or it got pulled back outward by a Grand Tack. Done – no need to work through a several-step process, full of exceptions and special cases, to capture all the possibilities.
Hopefully this will be quite a bit easier to use. Ought to be a lot easier to automate, too. I can already hear K. Nakamura cheering, off in the distance.
I’m not quite ready to start rewriting this section of the sequence – I still need to work through some of the implications in my head first – but I might start taking a crack at it within a few days. If it works out, that will be a big step toward having a complete version 1.0 draft of the whole book that I’d be willing to share with my beta readers and patrons. Stay tuned.
Quirks: Broad-Minded; Congenial; Convinced of a higher purpose; Hums or whistles while thinking; Likes fine cigars and brandy. [‑5]
Skills
Administration (A) IQ-1 [1]-14; Astronomy/TL9 (H) IQ+1 [4]-16 *; Beam Weapons/TL9 (Pistol) (E) DX [1]-10; Chemistry/TL9 (H) IQ-2 [1]-13; Computer Operation/TL9 (E) IQ+1 [2]-16; Computer Programming/TL9 (H) IQ [4]-15; Diplomacy (H) IQ-1 [2]-14; Driving/TL9 (Automobile) (A) DX [1]-10; Electronics Operation/TL9 (Communications) (A) IQ [2]-15; Electronics Operation/TL9 (Scientific) (A) IQ [2]-15; Electronics Operation/TL9 (Sensors) (A) IQ [2]-15; Electronics Repair/TL9 (Force Shields) (A) IQ [2]-15; Electronics Repair/TL9 (Scientific) (A) IQ [2]-15; Engineer/TL9 (Civil) (H) IQ [2]-15 *; Engineer/TL9 (Gravitics) (H) IQ+1 [4]-16 *; Literature (H) IQ-2 [1]-13; Mathematics/TL9 (Applied) (H) IQ+1 [3]-16 *; Mathematics/TL9 (Pure) (H) IQ [2]-15 *; Philosophy (Humanist) (H) IQ-2 [1]-13; Physics/TL9 (VH) IQ+4 [20]-19 *; Public Speaking (Debate) (E) IQ [1]-15; Research/TL9 (A) IQ [2]-15; Savoir-Faire (Military) (E) IQ [1]-15; Teaching (A) IQ+1 [4]-16; Vacc Suit/TL9 (A) DX [2]-10; Writing (A) IQ [2]-15.
* Includes +1 from Mathematical Ability.
Biographical Information
Victor Bergman was born in 1990 in London, in the United Kingdom. He was recognized as a mathematical prodigy at a very young age, earning doctorates in mathematics and astrophysics at the University of Cambridge by the time he was 21. Bergman has formed many close friendships and mentor-relationships over the years, but he has never become romantically involved, and some observers have concluded that he is effectively asexual.
Bergman disappointed many in the scientific world when he accepted a teaching position at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in 2012, but he soon proved able to do pioneering theoretical research even while mentoring younger students. It was at MIT in 2016 that Bergman had an annus mirabilis comparable to that of Albert Einstein, publishing several papers that ended in revolutionizing modern physics.
Bergman’s work opened the door to the direct control of gravity as a force, suggesting applications as diverse as artificial gravity in space habitats, antigravity lift systems for spacecraft, and “reactionless” drives for deep-space travel. As such, by the 2020s Bergman was already being recognized as the seminal figure in a new Space Age.
Bergman’s work might have made him a valuable asset to the American or British governments, but his staunch pacificism led him to refuse most such state connections. His open criticism of NASA and the United States Space Force led to considerable political controversy throughout the late 2020s and early 2030s, especially after he was awarded the 2033 Nobel Prize in Physics.
Only after the Pacific War and the foundation of the World Space Commission did Bergman begin to personally support the space program. He finally left MIT and accepted a position as a scientific advisor for the WSC in 2038. Working both on Earth and at Moonbase Alpha, Bergman provided invaluable advice in the application of the gravitic technologies his work had made possible. He was instrumental in the designs for Moonbase Alpha and the Eagle series of gravitic spacecraft.
Now of advanced years, Bergman continues to serve as a scientific advisor and mentor for a number of WSC leaders, including Commissioner Gerald Simmonds and astronauts Anthony Cellini and John Koenig.
Bergman’s outgoing personality, along with his undoubted scientific genius, have made him almost universally beloved among members of the space program. Even in his advanced years, he loves to throw himself into new scientific conundrums, and remains capable of coming up with unique (and effective) solutions. He has also gained a reputation as a humanistic philosopher, advocating an almost mystic understanding of humankind’s role in space.
Bergman’s major weakness is his artificial heart, acquired after a serious laboratory accident in the early 2030s. Although this bionic organ helps Bergman to regulate his emotional responses – giving him some resistance to fear and panic – it also renders him vulnerable to electric shock.
Helena Russell is 40 years old, with delicate features, carefully coiffed blonde hair, and grey eyes.
ST 10 [0]; DX 11 [20]; IQ 14 [80]; HT 10 [0].
Damage 1d-2/1d; BL 20 lbs.; HP 10 [0]; Will 14 [0]; Per 14 [0]; FP 10 [0].
Basic Speed 6.25 [0]; Basic Move 5 [0]; Dodge 8.
5’9”; 135 lbs.
Social Background
TL: 9 [0].
CF: Western [0].
Languages: English (Native) [0].
Advantages
Appearance (Attractive) [4]; Empathy [15]; Military Rank 3 (World Space Commission) [15].
Disadvantages
Code of Honor (Professional) [-5]; Combat Paralysis [-15]; Sense of Duty (Large Group; Moonbase Alpha Inhabitants) [-10]; Stubbornness [-5].
Quirks: Attentive; Prefers mundane explanations for unusual occurrences; Responsive; Tends to diagnose problems as “radiation sickness”; Very soft-spoken. [‑5]
Helena Russell was born Helena Goldmann in 2009 in Denver, in the United States. Her parents were physicians; she followed in their footsteps, earning advanced degrees in medicine and psychology from Columbia University in New York. It was there that she met Lee Russell, a fellow student who was specializing in space medicine. After finishing their graduate work, the two of them married in 2035. They spent the years of the Pacific War serving the United States Space Force as medical officers.
After the war, the Russells joined the World Space Commission, becoming deeply involved in the push for long-term expeditions and permanent manned outposts in space. In particular, Helena Russell became highly influential in the design of space habitats. Her introduction of solariums and “green spaces” into Moonbase Alpha residential sections did much to improve crew morale, and earned her the prestigious Donnelmyer Award in 2043.
Dr. Lee Russell went missing, and was presumed dead, in the loss of the second manned Jupiter expedition in 2044. Dr. Helena Russell has not remarried. She responded to the tragedy by throwing herself into her work, and beginning to accept deep-space assignments of her own. She was posted to Moonbase Alpha in late 2048 as its Chief Medical Officer.
Dr. Russell is a committed and effective physician, who cares deeply for her patients and has a gift for understanding the human psyche. If she has a weakness in her role, it is in her ability to adjust to the dangers and strangeness of life in deep space. She has a tendency to “freeze up” in situations of immediate danger or violence. She also tends to look for tried and familiar solutions to problems, often overlooking evidence that a situation is genuinely new and unprecedented.
John Koenig was born in 2007 in New York City, in the United States. He was orphaned in his late teens and has no close family. He studied astrophysics and space engineering at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, where he met and struck up an enduring friendship with Victor Bergman. The world-famous scientist has served Koenig as a mentor and father-figure for most of his adult life.
Koenig joined the American astronaut program, but his career was interrupted by the outbreak of the Pacific War in 2035. Throughout the war he served in the United States Space Force, flying several combat missions. Koenig’s wife was killed in the Chinese missile strike on Los Angeles in 2037. He has not remarried.
After the Pacific War, Koenig resumed his career as an astronaut, this time working for the new World Space Commission. He served several tours at the growing Moonbase Alpha from 2038 onward, and was posted as the base’s commanding officer just before Breakaway in 2049.
Koenig has a good reputation as an administrator and commander, known for ruthlessly practical decision-making. He is often short-tempered, capable of outbursts of anger or frustration, more likely to bark orders than to seek consensus among his subordinates. However, he is also deeply concerned for the welfare of his crew and the success of his assigned mission.
