To Kerbalkind, the Kerbol System looks a lot like ours, assuming our Mercury got cratered a little harder (Moho), Venus learned to spin backwards and never cooled off (Eve), and our asteroid belt kept just one dwarf planet around just to be a good sport about it (Dres). Five planets, two dwarf planets, and nine moons circle a single steady, yellow star, including the green gas giant Jool which is home to a Kerbal pilot's first real away-game: five moons of its own.
Kerbol itself is shrunk to about a third of our own Sun's real radius, while every planet and moon in its system is closer to a tenth the size of its real-world counterpart. Call it a rounding error, or call it the reason early rockets can reach orbit in minutes instead of months.
Kerbal Space Program, Kerbin, Duna, Jool, and all other names and places shown here are trademarks of Squad / Private Division, a label of Take-Two Interactive Software, Inc. This is an unofficial, non-commercial fan creation. Every image on this page is generated by this site's own procedural engine, not extracted from the game.
Kerbalkind's sun: a steady yellow star that Kerbal astronomers insist is perfectly ordinary, despite lacking the mass actually to spark nuclear fusion. Every planet in its orbit would technically have the density of degenerate matter, so Kerbol itself negotiated a better deal.
Named first, visited last. Moho sits closer to Kerbol than any other planet, yet somehow isn't the warmest address in the neighborhood (that dishonor belongs to Eve). Moho has no moons, next to no atmosphere, and a cranky 7-degree orbital tilt that Kerbal flight planners still curse every launch window.
Eve breaks every rule a tidy planet is supposed to follow: it spins backwards, its day outlasts its year, and a runaway greenhouse effect has left its atmosphere thick enough to poach an egg. Kerbal chemists insist on calling the violet haze 'photochemical smog.' Everyone else just calls it purple. Its one moon, Gilly, looks like the debris that never worked up the nerve to land.
The smallest space rock Kerbalkind has bothered to name. Gilly is a captured asteroid so lightweight it never got around to rounding itself into a sphere. Why bother, when nobody's gravity is checking. Its orbit is eccentric and steeply tilted enough that landing on it has humbled more than one decorated flight engineer.
Home. The only world in the system where a Kerbal doesn't need a helmet or a heat shield. It has a gentle 1g of gravity, easy geostationary orbits, and two moons close enough to visit before lunch: the cratered Mun, and the smaller, icier Minmus.
Every Kerbal space pilot's first away mission. Grey, airless, and cratered the way a moon ought to be, the Mun asks nothing fancier of a new pilot than a clean rendezvous and a landing gentle enough to brag about afterward.
Technically farther from Kerbin than the Mun, and yet somehow the easier first landing. Low gravity, gentle slopes, and a surface the color of mint ice cream, which Kerbal geologists have so far declined to explain.
A planet Kerbalkind can't stop staring at: cold, dry, capped in polar ice, and familiar enough that mission planners keep quietly hoping something used to live there. Or still does.
Duna's one moon, locked in place so precisely that it never moves in Duna's sky. Convenient for cartographers, less convenient for pilots who misjudge its gravity well and find themselves flung clean out of the system.
Dres exists. Kerbal mission control would like that stated for the record, given how often pilots insist this quiet dwarf planet in the asteroid belt is an elaborate rumor. It is small, it is lonely, and it is, against a surprising amount of community skepticism, very much there.
The biggest planet in the system and, by Kerbal consensus, the prettiest. A swirling green giant with no surface to speak of and an atmosphere that ends every landing attempt the same way. Jool keeps five moons in orbit, which is either generous or showing off.
Jool's innermost moon, and the only other place in the system where a Kerbal can take their helmet off and breathe, assuming they don't mind the smell of the sea. The Sagan Sea's water stays liquid thanks to a salt content that would make Kerbin's oceans blush.
An ice-locked moon of Jool that Kerbal glaciologists debate about what might be underneath its crust. Its frozen plains hide Vallhenge, a ring of oversized ice blocks nobody in Kerbalkind will take credit for arranging.
Same size as Kerbin, same surface gravity as Kerbin, same assumption that landing on it ought to be easy. It is not. Every honest Kerbal flight log mentions Tylo's fuel bill at least once, usually with regret.
A lumpy captured asteroid tucked into one of Jool's stranger, more steeply inclined orbits. Kerbal spacefarers blame the system's notorious Kraken glitch on something living near Bop, less a scientific finding than a very old joke that refuses to die.
Out past Bop sits Jool's smallest and farthest moon, so named because some Kerbal botanist thought it resembled a grain of pollen. Its gentle gravity makes it one of the kindest landings in the system, no fuel anxieties required, unlike its neighbor Tylo.
The last stop on the standard tour. A frozen, airless dwarf planet so far out that its lopsided orbit occasionally cuts inside Jool's own path, just to keep Kerbal orbital mechanics textbooks honest.