Series

Rendezvous — the series

7 essays on one idea, from the one that introduces it to the one that assumes the rest.
  1. Catching a target 40° ahead. A phasing manoeuvre. Dropping into an orbit 6% lower shortens the period to 0.9553 of the target's, so the chaser gains 16.1° each lap and closes 40° in 3 revolutions. Speeding up would have lost ground instead.

    Catching up by slowing down, which cost Gemini 4 its fuel

    To reach something ahead in the same orbit, a spacecraft must fire backwards. Pointing at the target and thrusting makes the gap grow, and a crew found that out in orbit before anyone had flown the correct manoeuvre.

    part 1 · spaceflight
  2. A burn along the track moves the chaser 8330 m backwards. Three 0.5 m/s impulses from rest alongside a target in a 400 km circular orbit, followed for 2 revolutions in the frame riding on the target. Along-track distance runs across the page with the direction of travel to the left, and radial distance up. The prograde burn ends 8330 metres behind after one revolution — exactly 6πΔv/n, and it is behind rather than ahead because the burn raised the orbit and a higher orbit takes longer. The retrograde burn ends 8330 metres ahead by the same arithmetic with the sign reversed. The radial burn is the third case and the strange one: it opens a closed loop and returns exactly to where it started after a revolution, having gone nowhere at a cost of 0.5 m/s. That is not a curiosity but the basis of the R-bar approach, in which a vehicle closes on a station from below along a path that costs nothing to abandon.

    A burn that moves the wrong way

    In the frame riding on an orbiting target, a thrust along the direction of travel leaves a chaser eight kilometres behind after one lap, a radial thrust returns it exactly to where it started, and every free relative orbit is the same ellipse — twice as long along the track as it is across.

    part 2 · spaceflight
  3. The relative orbit when the target's own is not circular. Free relative motion of a chaser about a target, over one revolution, for four eccentricities of the target's orbit — drawn by propagating two exact Keplerian orbits and differencing them in the target's own rotating frame rather than by any linearised solution. The chaser differs from the target by 0.0035 in eccentricity, so the two semi-major axes are identical. Along-track distance runs across the page. At e = 0 the path is the familiar closed ellipse, 2.00 times as long along the track as across it — recovered here from an exact propagation, which is the check that the calculation is right. Raise the target's eccentricity and the path stops being an ellipse and starts breathing: the separation varies by a factor of 2.00 over one revolution at e = 0 and 2.26 at e = 0.7, because the frame itself is now turning at a rate that changes through the orbit and the chaser is swept around it fastest at periapsis. Every one of them still closes exactly, and that is the one statement of the circular theory that survives — two orbits of equal semi-major axis have equal periods and cannot drift apart, whatever else differs between them.

    The relative orbit that breathes

    Every result in the close-approach frame — the two-to-one ellipse, the burn that moves the wrong way, the eight kilometres behind — assumes the target's own orbit is circular. Around an eccentric target none of the geometry survives. One statement does, and it is about energy rather than shape.

    part 3 · spaceflight
  4. Two ranges that look identical until something is spent. The bearing to a target, as a camera measures it, for two relative orbits that differ only in size — one 2.5 times further away than the other in every coordinate at every instant. Before the manoeuvre the two histories are identical to machine precision, and that is not a numerical accident but a property of the equations: the linearised relative dynamics are homogeneous, so scaling a whole trajectory gives another trajectory, and a direction is unchanged by scaling. An angles-only tracker is therefore exactly blind to range, and no amount of observing improves it. At 42 per cent of the way through, both vehicles fire the same 0.05 m/s impulse — and the histories separate, by up to 2.3 degrees, because an impulse measured in metres per second is the one quantity in the problem that does not scale with the trajectory. The manoeuvre is what makes range observable, which is why an autonomous vehicle navigating on a camera alone flies a deliberate zig-zag rather than a straight approach, and why the manoeuvre is chosen for what it reveals as much as for where it goes.

    A camera that cannot see how far

    The equations that make a close approach tractable are linear and homogeneous, so scaling an entire relative trajectory gives another valid one with every bearing identical. A vehicle navigating on angles alone is therefore not merely imprecise about range — it is exactly blind to it, and the only thing that restores the scale is spending propellant.

    part 4 · spaceflight
  5. What it costs to follow a turning grapple point. The velocity a chaser must spend each minute to hold station on a grapple point carried round by a flat spin, ω²r × 60 s, against the spin rate in degrees per second, for points 1, 3, 10 m from the spin axis, both axes logarithmic. The dashed line is what holding station 10 m from a target in a 400 km orbit costs in the same units, from the orbital dynamics alone: 2.3 mm/s per minute. At 1° per second, a point 3 m out costs 5 cm/s per minute — 24 times the orbital term; at 5° per second, 1.4 m/s per minute, 595 times. The cost rises as the square of the rate, so a target spinning twice as fast is four times as expensive to follow, and above a few tenths of a degree per second the orbit — the whole subject of the approach up to this point — has become the small correction.

    A grapple point that moves faster than the orbit

    Every rendezvous problem up to the last few metres is orbital mechanics: two bodies in nearly the same orbit, drifting apart and together under gravity. A derelict satellite tumbling at a few degrees a second changes the problem entirely. Holding station on a point of its surface costs more each minute than a week of orbital station-keeping, the moment to grab it comes and goes in seconds, and a free tumble never repeats — so the orbit becomes a small correction to a problem in rotation.

    part 5 · spaceflight
  6. Two satellites moved apart by the attitude they hold. The along-track separation of two identical 5 kg satellites at 475 km, starting together, when one flies broadside to the airflow and the other edge-on for 15 days and then they swap, so that their relative drift ends at zero. The separation grows quadratically and then levels off. At solar minimum the manoeuvre moves the pair 2,797 km apart; mid-cycle 8,299; at solar maximum 24,620 — 206° of the orbit's 43,060 km circumference. No propellant is spent; the same command produces a tenfold different result depending on the state of the Sun.

    A rendezvous paid for in air

    Two satellites in the same low orbit can be moved along it relative to each other with no propellant at all, by turning one broadside to the thin air and the other edge-on. The draggier one sinks and speeds up, the gap grows as the square of the time, and swapping attitudes halfway brings the drift back to zero. The cost moves from fuel to time, to altitude, and to knowing an atmosphere that changes tenfold with the Sun.

    part 6 · spaceflight
  7. How far a change of attitude moves a satellite before the encounter. The along-track shift a 5-kg satellite achieves by switching from 0.01 to 0.1 m² of frontal area when warned of a conjunction, against the warning time, at 400, 500, 600 km, between solar minimum (lower edge) and maximum (upper edge), logarithmic. The shift grows as the square of the time. In a day it is 26.1 to 156 km at 400 km; 3.9 to 39 km at 500 km; 0.6 to 10 km at 600 km. The dashed line is the 556 m needed to bring a 300-m position uncertainty's collision risk below one in ten thousand.

    A dodge made of air

    A small satellite with no thruster can still move along its orbit by turning broadside to the thin air, and the question is whether that is enough to get out of the way of debris. Below six hundred kilometres the answer, measured in distance, is easily yes: a day's warning buys kilometres when a few hundred metres would do. Measured in predictability it is no. The density of the air is forecast to about thirty per cent, so the dodge goes somewhere nobody, including the satellite's own operator, can say in advance to the precision the dodge was meant to achieve.

    part 7 · spaceflight

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