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Design:NEMO-SS1945X “New Zheleznogorod”

This marvellous flying machine is the culmination of our efforts in rocket engines and submarine pressure hulls.  A lot of time was spent drawing plans for it, using the resources of the secret organization Nemo

This rocket is a 3-stage rocket, 23 meters wide and 150 meters tall, built in shipyards using shipyard materials and techniques, such as a structure entirely made of 8 mm steel. This allows it to be manufactured quickly, cheap and in large numbers. Being this big, land launch is impractical and instead it is launched at sea.

It uses the same type on engine on all stages, a newly developed nitric oxide/ UDMH (storable, not prone to boil-off) engine with a thrust to weight ratio of 120, a vacuum Isp of 320 and a sea level Isp of 290.
We calculated the Delta V for the transfer to be 14500 m/s, with aerodynamic entry on Mars to save on propellant. This Delta V budget is divided evenly among the stages, with a 5000/5000/4500 split.

As a result of those things, the stages are as follow:
-First stage:
   -T/W: 1.25
   -height: 97 m
   -Dry weight: 1’200 t
   -Propellant: 41’000t
   -Detachable floats for stability before sea launch
-Second stage:
   -T/W: 1
   -height: 26 m
   -Dry weight: 306 t
   -Propellant: 8570 t
-Third stage:
   -T/W: 0.3
   -height: 26 m
      -of which, the habitable portion is: 15 m
   -Dry weight: 200 t
   -Propellant: 1430 t

The third stage also acts as a Mars lander. It will bleed most velocity by aerobraking in the atmosphere, then it will straighten with a drogue parachute and proceed to land propulsively, for which purpose it has some legs.  Of course, due to the chance of landing on martian lakes, legs are hollow to act as retractable floats.

While in space, air and food are provided by stored consumables. During ascent and transfer burn, electricity is provided by engines and a limited quantity of batteries. After that, it will rely on the payload to provide electrical needs. Ports on the outside and power cables are provided to link several rockets in a single power network. With an estimated transfer time of 7 months, it would take 2 t of mass for each person, without any recycling. Even basic filtering decreases this value significantly.

For ships tasked with carrying crew, sleeping quarters are provided; they are rooms in which walls are lined with people sized pockets, in which crew can sleep.  There are some complaints about elbow pipes sticking out in some of the pockets for no discernible reason, but those are negligible in the grand scheme of things.

Suborned shipyards and factories across Forenia have been working for months to produce engines, bend metal and deliver propellant, fully dedicated to the task. In the last month, with the Government collapsing, even more of the industry has been commandeered in order to push the launch date to the time of the peace treaty. With the vast resources of NEMO, a fleet of New Zheleznogorod rockets is built and ready to evacuate Forenians from the encroaching Cannalans and go forward to the next frontier: MARS!

This design is done in cooperation with kot

Example of steel rocket built in the open by a water tower company
Sea Dragon, reference for enormous water launched shipyard quality rockets
Example of rocket engine

I make this to make sure we get this. There will also be a flag pole provided for when we touch down on Mars, and it's gonna have a small, barely noticeable Arstotzkan flag near the base.

   It was more of a museum, really. Nearly every piece of military equipment ever used by Arstotzkan forces, even including a tank and one of Andrei Zhuyev A19s hanging from the celling, though acquiring the elusive prototype equipped with retractable floats proved to be impossible. There was also a side room dedicated to more civilian equipment, like old cars and even a T15 based barbecue. Most importantly however, today the building also contained one Unyielding Thirst for Glory. Kot was leaning on a M17A motorcycle, spinning an antique sabre on the ground. They didn't even use those by the time of previous war, that's how old it was.
   Nevertheless, the mind of Kot was more occupied with his father, also Kot, and the whole NEMO debacle. He was also thinking about the events that took place ten years and month ago. In retrospect the Glorious Leader and devious Moskurg King weren't particularly good natured, bright or even reasonable, but they were right about at least one thing, that the engineers couldn't be trusted, since even right now some of them were breaking away from the project and joining the fight, instead of focusing on actually important issues. Some of them, at least, had the decency to leave their work, but it still felt like a betrayal. Kot however wasn't particularly surprised, and in a way, he knew he wasn't going to live through this. The plans of NEMO called for a society that for once would be free from major internal conflict, that would leave behind the problems of the past, and truth be told, Kot lived in the past, it just took one glance at his house to be sure of that. It also has seemed that the past has finally caught up to Forenia. As much as Andres was a patriot, at least once he was, Kot realized that he isn't completely okay with what Andres is doing. In fact, Kot was totally not okay with what Andres was doing. Even setting Soviets and Cannala aside, he remembered the ill-fated conspiracy few years back, and the biggest problem was the “Leader's” hypocrisy. He was unwilling to accept help from others back then, yet, apparently, he is now working with Cannalan invaders, or he has been the whole time. Kot wasn't happy with how the things turned out in the end. It didn't necessarily have to be him, but it certainly shouldn't be Andres, or any Cannalan for that matter. There were other options, but they didn't seem completely trustworthy either. It was a choice between bad and worse and it wasn't even clear which was which, but he decided that if Arstotzka were to come back, it wouldn't be due to invasion of people that had nothing to do with it. Of course at the same time hoping that the damn Moskurgs would not be treacherous was futile, but he had to make a call. In the end, he doubted a lot of people would mourn him, and the Kot legacy was safe anyway, there were plenty around the world. He recently even learned about having some weird relatives on Vlanlados, and was wondering what they were up to, but he had more pressing matters to attend to.
   He gripped the sabre tighter, and sighed. He couldn't just let it happen. He stood up, sheathed the sword, and walked over to a table that had a radio set and a gramophone on it. He didn't prepare a message before, and he was reluctant to actually make one. Maybe people wouldn't think that we were at each other's throat at the last moment, and there could yet be hope, but there was really no place for second thoughts now.

   “Comrades of Arstotzka! Today, the enemies, both old and new, are plotting the destruction of our country! I have credible information that there is a Cannalan plot to not only destroy the Continentalist regime, but also kill Arstotzkans, so that there would be no one opposing their oppression! We would be exchanging a treacherous regime for another regime! They are using a puppet who has not been in the country for years now, cowardly hiding while the true patriots have suffered at home! This cannot stand! You need to take up arms you have at home and go stop them from killing your fellow Arstotzkan in a trap they set up at Armoury, but most importantly, you need to make the madman Andres stop polluting the rightful Arstotzkan clay with his existence, and I shall lead you towards those goals! Goyrl to Arstotzka! Death to oppressors! Follow me to victory!”
   
   Kot put up some nice patriotic music on the gramophone an left the radio on. He listened for a moment to make sure it worked, and turned towards the other end of the room. His eyes stopped for a while on a complete AS-51S locomotive, but he shook his head. Railroads were extremely unreliable in recent months. He instead closed in on the motorcycle he was leaning on before. It was pretty normal, except it also had a modified engine and included rocket boosting and lacked a side-cart, similar to those used in races in Arstotzka, many years ago. The older man who sold him said it was used by Arstotzkan spies in actions against Moskurg years ago. For some reason both he and the bike smelled of fried potatoes, but the thing looked genuine. He looked over to the walls, and carefully fished out a few grenades from a pile containing nearly every possible piece of Arstotzkan explosive ordnance. It was all still working ammunition, which was significantly dangerous to store, but he couldn't bear destroying such works of art, like many government museums did, mindlessly tampering with a piece of their own history. He turned to a mirror, and looked at himself. An officers parade uniform, dashing cap, AS-SP30 in ornamental holster on one hip, antique sabre on the other, but he was painfully aware that by dedicating his time to The Project, he would be outmatched by the traitors. He glanced at a full suit of IA35 armour on a stand in the corner. It probably wasn't enough to stop even rifle rounds these days, but it's better than nothing. He took only the frontal plate though, because he didn't intend to show enemy his back. Left the helmet too, because it'd stop him from wearing the hat, and he couldn't let that happen. That still didn't account for stopping power, so he took an RPG28A off the wall. It's not like he'd have more than one shot at this.
   As he was leading the motorcycle through big, double doors, he gazed back at the house. It was the place he spent most of last ten years in, and it itself was a relic of Arstotzkan times. You could still see concrete on the door frame, and there was a pile of bricks on the side, not cleaned up ever since the door was unblocked after the amnesty, though most of the defensive perimeter set up by Continentalists was already removed. He considered destroying it, but decided against, the amount of relics from the past was too high and way too important. He hoped someone will come by and take care of it.
   The war-torn streets weren't a particularly uplifting sight. As he drove next to several monuments dedicated to heroes, or simply, victims of war, he saw sea of candles lit in their memory. One day that people stopped beating each other up for menial bullshit and actually reflected on the past, and it's the day the war ends on. Quite fitting, just like that he will, in a way, also lit a candle to memory of the dead. Kot started humming a quiet soldier's tune.

“We are lost, we are lost
Where all the roads end
Our path does not
Wherever we turn
Time takes it course
The heart burned
Banished in pain
So we move lost through
The gray no-man's land
Maybe none of us will return
Back to our homeland...”

   Kot stopped only once, to have a clear sight of the sea, hoping to see the culmination of project NEMO. He hoped everything went according to the plan, that's all he could do. “That's one for you, dad”. He grasped the rocket launcher and thought that in a way, it resembled a cavalry lance. Cavalry charges were always more of a Moskurg thing, but these days even Moskurgs have learned to be snipers. Weird times.

Apart from taking part in NEMO project, I intend to:
1) gather popular support
2a) kill Andres, if possible this should not be done as a frontal attack, but as a treacherous back stab
2b) kill any Cannalans or other hostile people that might happen to be against that idea
2c) kill any any Continentalist threat that may be hostile towards me
3) acquire control of Arstotzkan forces
4) call off any attack on Armoury
5) focus on trying to arrange the defense of NEMO project if that's still possible
6) begin talking with our Soviet brothers across the sea about Arstotzkan issue, possibly allowing treacherous Continentalist scum to take part in it if they promise to not be overly treacherous
7) ? ? ?
8a) Profit.
8b) Rename Arstotzka Arskotzka.

I intend to achieve all that with an ancient motorbike, a sword I might not know how to use, a pistol and a non-reusable rocket launcher, and anyone who may have been crazy enough to listen to me when I was shouting from the balcony. Glory to Arskotzka.