#space junk reentry

[thoughtlessarse]

A Saskatchewan farmer’s near miss with potentially lethal debris falling from orbit highlights the skyrocketing risks and murky politics of space junk The e-mail arrived, like a bolt from blue, on the otherwise typical Thursday afternoon of May 9. The message was from a journalist, asking me, an astronomer, for an interview about a farmer who had reportedly found space junk while prepping his fields for springtime seeding, just an hour’s drive from my home in Saskatchewan. “Yeah, right,” I said to myself as I tapped out my affirmative reply. The odds are already long for any particular place on Earth to be struck by orbital debris—so the chances for it to happen practically in the backyard of someone like me who studies the issue felt astronomically low, simply too far-fetched to be true. A quick check of my news feed proved me wrong. One of the top stories was about the space junk strike, and even included a photo of the farmer, Barry Sawchuk, standing next to what looked like the charred, battered hood of a semitruck covered with woven carbon fiber and a few slightly melted aluminum protrusions. My jaw dropped in shock: The object looked exactly like debris that fell in an Australian sheep field in 2022, which the U.S. aerospace company SpaceX later admitted was part of a cargo trunk for its Crew Dragon spacecraft. This “trunk” is actually the size of a small grain silo, and is ejected in orbit well before the spacecraft’s atmospheric reentry, to naturally and chaotically reenter on its own and, supposedly, burn up completely. To confirm my hunch, I immediately e-mailed my collaborator Jonathan McDowell, an astronomer at the Center for Astrophysics | Harvard & Smithsonian, who maintains probably the best public database of launches, reentries and other space activities. McDowell responded within minutes, forwarding a graphic tracing the path of a SpaceX Crew Dragon trunk ejected by the Axiom 3 private astronaut mission that had reentered over the Canadian prairies on February 26, 2024. My hunch was confirmed.

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It's only a matter of time before someone dies.

[fishgut]

Collision frequency of artificial satellites: The creation of a debris belt Donald J. Kessler, Burton G. Cour-Palais First published: 1 June 1978 https://doi.org/10.1029/JA083iA06p02637 Citations: 564 PDFPDF Tools Share Abstract

As the number of artificial satellites in earth orbit increases, the probability of collisions between satellites also increases. Satellite collisions would produce orbiting fragments, each of which would increase the probability of further collisions, leading to the growth of a belt of debris around the earth. This process parallels certain theories concerning the growth of the asteroid belt. The debris flux in such an earth-orbiting belt could exceed the natural meteoroid flux, affecting future spacecraft designs. A mathematical model was used to predict the rate at which such a belt might form. Under certain conditions the belt could begin to form within this century and could be a significant problem during the next century. The possibility that numerous unobserved fragments already exist from spacecraft explosions would decrease this time interval. However, early implementation of specialized launch constraints and operational procedures could significantly delay the formation of the belt.

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But if we make it to Mars and then accidentally contaminate the planet with our literal shit, it might be harder to answer this question. How would we know if the life we find on Mars is truly Martian, or something that’s come from Earth? And if our microbes from Earth take a liking to Mars and spread, there may be no way to undo that.

The UN Outer Space Treaty — signed in 1967, two years before the Apollo 11 landing — stipulates that member states “shall avoid harmful contamination of space and celestial bodies.” That may be difficult if we get to Mars because wherever we go, our fecal matter goes too. Thinking about poop on the moon helps us think about a possible origin of life on Earth

As new missions to the moon are planned, we need to think carefully about the need to preserve the artifacts left at the Apollo landing sites. NPR’s Nell Greenfieldboyce recently reported that just landing within 100 meters of an Apollo site could potentially damage it.

Protecting the history of human exploration on the moon also means protecting the garbage — its historic value is immense, but so is its scientific value. We need to preserve these sites so scientists can return to them and take samples.

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The European-built Cupola was added to the International Space Station in 2010 and continues to provide the best room with a view anywhere.

In addition to serving as an observation and work area when the crew operates the Station’s robotic arms, it also provides excellent views of Earth, celestial objects and visiting vehicles.

Its fused-silica and borosilicate-glass windows, however, sometime suffer from impacts by tiny artificial objects: space debris.

ESA astronaut Tim Peake took this photo from inside Cupola last month, showing a 7 mm-diameter circular chip gouged out by the impact from a tiny piece of space debris, possibly a paint flake or small metal fragment no bigger than a few thousandths of a millimetre across. The background just shows the inky blackness of space.

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Space debris targeted for orbital cleanup has been hit, possibly by other space debris

The payload adaptor from a 2013 launch by the European Space Agency has been fragmented by a collision in orbit, officials say

In May, the ESA announced it would be the target of the ClearSpace-1 mission, an “active debris removal mission” designed to fly to VESPA, grab it, and then burn up during reentry, destroying both itself and the space junk. The plan was to launch as early as the first half of 2026.

Now that mission is in doubt. “On 10 August 2023, ESA’s Space Debris Office was informed by the United States 18th Space Defense Squadron that new objects have been detected in the vicinity of (the) payload adapter,” the space agency said in a press release on Tuesday.

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

Cluster mission set to end with reentry over South Pacific

On 8 September 2024, the first of four satellites that make up ESA’s Cluster mission will reenter Earth’s atmosphere over the South Pacific Ocean Uninhabited Area.

This marks the end of the historic mission, over 24 years after it was sent into space to measure Earth’s magnetic environment. Though the remaining three satellites will also stop making scientific observations, discoveries using existing mission data are expected for years to come.

This ‘targeted reentry’ is the first of its kind. ESA’s efforts to ensure a clean end to the Cluster mission go beyond international standards, making the agency a world-leader in sustainable space exploration.

A lifetime monitoring space weather

Launched in 2000, Cluster has spent 24 years studying perhaps the one thing that makes Earth a unique habitable world where life can thrive: its powerful magnetic shield, the magnetosphere.

Like an enormous umbrella, the magnetosphere protects us from most of the driving rain of particles that the Sun relentlessly sends in our direction.

But gusts of this solar wind can still push through, sending bursts of energetic particles cascading towards Earth’s surface. The most common result is the northern and southern lights (auroras), but more rarely, these particles can cut our power supplies, disrupt radio communications, or damage satellites.

We call the influence of the solar wind on Earth’s magnetic environment ‘space weather’.  And until Cluster came along, space weather remained something of a mystery.

“For over two decades, Cluster has shown us time and time again how important the magnetosphere is in shielding us from the solar wind,” says Cluster Mission Manager Philippe Escoubet. “It has watched the effects of solar storms to help us better understand and forecast space weather.”

A zero-debris finale

Cluster was never designed to last this long, nor was it designed for such a safe finale. It was initially launched on a two-year mission to study the Sun–Earth interaction. Because it was carrying out such impressive and world-changing science, ESA’s spacecraft operators kept it going.

But all good things must come to an end, and Cluster’s time has finally come. With this targeted reentry, ESA is turning Cluster from a pioneer in space weather monitoring to a pioneer in mitigating space debris – two key elements in the agency’s space safety goals.

Without intervention, the four Cluster satellites would have reentered naturally in a less predictable manner, potentially over a more densely populated region. By targeting the satellites reentries, ESA is taking the opportunity to ensure that Cluster’s demise doesn’t contribute to the rocketing amount of space junk in orbit around Earth.

Salsa’s last dance

Of the four Cluster satellites – nicknamed Rumba (Cluster 1), Salsa (Cluster 2), Samba (Cluster 3) and Tango (Cluster 4) – Salsa will be the first to take the plunge back into Earth’s atmosphere. It is targeting a specific region of the South Pacific Ocean that is as far as possible from populated regions.

“Back in January we tweaked Salsa’s orbit to make sure that on 8 September it experiences its final steep drop from an altitude of roughly 110 km to 80 km,” explains Cluster Operations Manager Bruno Sousa. “This gives us the greatest possible control over where the spacecraft will be captured by the atmosphere and begin to burn up.”

Bruno’s team is now watching the satellite from a distance. A targeted reentry allows for so much predictability in the reentry time and location that there is no need for further manoeuvres.

Despite being confident that no surviving fragments will fall anywhere near land, we still have very little data about how spacecraft behave as they pass through the lower layers of the atmosphere. We would like to know more to predict even better the time and location of satellite reentries and ensure the safety of humans on Earth.

ESA is considering observing Salsa’s reentry from an aircraft; this will be confirmed later in August. The four Cluster satellites are identical and so by watching them reenter the atmosphere with slightly different trajectories and in different weather conditions, we would have the unique opportunity to conduct a valuable reentry experiment to study the break-up of satellites.

A brighter future

Cluster’s reentry follows those of ESA’s Aeolus and ERS-2 Earth observation missions. ESA is setting a precedent for a responsible approach to reducing the every-increasing problem of space debris and uncontrolled reentries.

With this targeted reentry, ESA is again pioneering a new strategy to reduce its environmental impact by disposing of its missions more safely and sustainably than envisaged at the time of their design.

“By studying how Salsa burns up, which parts might survive, for how long and in what state, we will learn much about how to build ‘zero-debris’ satellites,” explains Tim Flohrer, Head of ESA’s Space Debris Office.

“The lessons learned from this activity will help turn targeted reentries into a safe and well-understood option for the disposal of other space missions in similar orbits, such as Smile and Proba-3.”

What’s next?

Following Salsa’s reentry, the three remaining Cluster satellites will enter ‘caretaker’ mode; whilst they will not be making scientific measurements, operators will be monitoring them to minimise the risk of collision with other satellites or Earth itself.

Bruno’s team will adjust the orbit of Rumba (Cluster 1) in August 2024 in preparation for a similar targeted reentry in November 2025. They will then manoeuvre Samba (Cluster 3) and Tango (Cluster 4) in November 2024 ready for Cluster’s final goodbye in August 2026.

At the end of 2025, ESA plans to launch its next mission to tackle Earth’s magnetic environment: the Solar wind Magnetosphere Ionosphere Link Explorer, or Smile for short. A joint venture with the Chinese Academy of Sciences, Smile will build upon Cluster to reveal even more about the complex and intriguing magnetic environment surrounding planet Earth.

[anumberofhobbies]

Hope is not enough. SpaceX and other companies, as well as governments, are producing space debris that could very easily kill people. Countries need to enforce the rules that already exist, and regulations need to be updated to account for the unprecedented numbers of launches and reentries now occurring.The hundreds of pounds of space debris that fell near my home were a clear warning. To avoid disaster, the nations of the world must heed it, and catch up with the reality of today’s commercialization of orbit before it’s too late. This is an opinion and analysis article, and the views expressed by the author or authors are not necessarily those of Scientific American. Samantha Lawler is an associate professor of astronomy at the University of Regina in Saskatchewan, Canada, where she researches orbital dynamics and teaches. She lives on a farm, raising goats and cherishing the huge prairie sky.

[dertaglichedan]

5,800 pounds of batteries tossed off the ISS in 2021 will fall to Earth today

A nearly 3-ton leftover tossed overboard from the International Space Station is nearing its plunge toward Earth.

The multi-ton Exposed Pallet 9 (EP9) was jettisoned from the space station back in March 2021. At the time, it was reported to be the most massive object ever tossed overboard from the International Space Station. Disposing of used or unnecessary equipment in such a way is common practice aboard the space station, as the objects typically burn up harmlessly in Earth's atmosphere. 

Ahead of EP9's reentry, the Federal Office for Civil Protection and Disaster Relief, National Warning Center 1 in Bonn, Germany issued this information:

"Between midday on March 8 and midday on March 9, a larger space object is expected to re-enter the Earth's atmosphere and possibly fragment," the translated statement explains. "The object is battery packs from the International Space Station (ISS). Luminous phenomena or the perception of a sonic boom are possible."

Related: Space station tosses 2.9-ton hunk of space junk overboard. It will stay in orbit for years.

[monterplant]

How European satellite's landmark demise can aid the fight against space junk

Mission scientists and engineers took on the tricky task of targeting a remote stretch of the Atlantic Ocean for the reentry of Europe’s Aeolus satellite. Continue reading Untitled

[29pageshomestuckeveryday]

Homestuck, page 4,536

Dirk: Take sord.....

You pick up the mighty SORD…..

The easiest thing to do here is ditch the SLICE, stick the SORD….. in the weapons row, and rhyme it with BOARD.

Your bro had a lot of junk like this manufactured over the years. He patented the technology for producing THREE DIMENSIONAL JPEG ARTIFACTS, to make products shittier than was ever previously imaginable. He made a killing off them. Not because anyone bought this garbage. But because they were so cheap to manufacture, their cost was actually NEGATIVE, therefore miraculously netting him profit for every unit produced. He made so much money this way, he had enough to finance manned space missions to haul all of the hideous unwanted jpeg shit off the Earth, and launch it into the sun. But years thereafter, every now and then someone would report a stray shitty skateboard slowly drifting back into Earth's atmosphere. People would pray they would burn up on reentry. But they never would.

[gungieblog]

Another huge piece of Chinese space junk is falling to Earth. 'Here we go again,' experts say

By Brett Tingley

 published about 2 hours ago

Another Chinese Long March 5B rocket body will once again plummet to Earth in the coming days above a yet-to-be-determined location.

Another Chinese launch, another uncontrolled rocket body reentry. 

The China Manned Space Agency (CSMA) launched the third and final module of the Tiangong space station on Monday (Oct. 31) atop a Long March 5B heavy-lift rocket. As with previous Long March 5B launches, China did not perform a controlled deorbit of the rocket's core stage after its payload was deployed. That means that, yet again, a 23-ton (21 metric tons) Chinese rocket body will plummet to Earth above a yet-to-be-determined location in the coming days.

[sounmashnews]

[ad_1] There’s a world component to the talk, too, because the FCC’s rule might apply to some satellite tv for pc operators past the US. “The FCC is trying to design this so that it’s not only applicable to US license-seekers, but anybody who wants to access the US market. They’re trying to flex their muscles in a way that creates a rule that applies to other space operators,” says Bruce McClintock, head of the Space Enterprise Initiative of the Rand Corporation, a nonprofit analysis group in Santa Monica, California. And others take note of US tips: For instance, the United Nations Committee on the Peaceful Use of Outer Space adopted the 25-year rule in 2010, and it turned the worldwide normal. But the shortage of coordination throughout the US authorities proper now on the proposed five-year rule might restrict its potential effectiveness, McClintock says.Like ubiquitous plastic waste in oceans, orbiting junk has been increase for many years, and tens of hundreds of items of trackable particles now hurtle by means of low Earth orbit at an altitude of 1,200 miles or decrease, together with hundreds of thousands of bits too small to be tracked however not too small to wreck a satellite tv for pc. That means large networks like OneWeb or SpaceX’s Starlink could possibly be victims of particles impacts, even when the businesses make an effort to promptly deorbit their very own satellites.McKnight argues that satisfying the five-year rule is worth it, as a result of pushing defunct satellites to an altitude beneath 250 miles would restrict dangers to the International Space Station, China’s Tiangong ​​area station, and different essential spacecraft. And he thinks that technological developments, like a shift from chemical to electrical propulsion, will make it attainable to maneuver a satellite tv for pc even when just one p.c of the launch payload’s mass is gasoline.Other improvements may assist too, says Marlon Sorge, aerospace technical fellow on the Aerospace Corporation, a federally-funded analysis and improvement middle in El Segundo, California. “Adding propulsion for small satellites is pretty difficult, but there are other options, like drag-enhancement devices. These are things that deploy a long tether or a sail that increases its area,” he says.Importantly, the FCC’s rule additionally will apply to upper-stage rocket bodies. Many of the old-timers in orbit had been left behind many years in the past by the US, China, and Russia. But since rockets may be too huge to dissipate upon reentry, they should be introduced again to Earth in a managed method, to an unpopulated patch of ocean.McClintock factors out that the largest drawback isn’t how a lot time homeowners must deorbit their spacecraft—it’s that there’s no enforcement mechanism making certain that they comply with by means of on their plans. “An argument against a five-year rule, people will say, is that it’s a bigger concern that people are not yet complying with the 25-year rule,” he says. “If we had a higher compliance with the 25-year rule, we wouldn’t need a five-year rule.”Still, with regards to these controversial license necessities, it’s higher to be secure than sorry, McKnight argues: “The space environment is not as forgiving as in air, maritime, and land environments. You don’t have aviation accidents affecting the next flight. In space, when the accident occurs, it’s lingering for decades or centuries.” [ad_2] Source link

[maeamian]

managed to crash all the debris from this mission which is oddly satisfying

[synnthamonsugar]

Okay who had "20 tons of space junk making an uncontrolled reentry potentially over major population centers" on their 2020/2021 Cataclysm Bingo card?????

[planetsam]

Latest fics are up on ao3

Reentry (I combined two because they struck me as very unintentionally interconnected and I have an additional prompt for pt 3 so the previous fit that was in the collection Twice Burned is no longer there and has been moved here.)

Space Junk (Alex gets Buffy)

[sciencespies]

ESA Clean Space tackles space junk one component at a time

https://sciencespies.com/space/esa-clean-space-tackles-space-junk-one-component-at-a-time/

ESA Clean Space tackles space junk one component at a time

VALETTA, Malta —  Through a novel approach to testing, the European Space Agency’s Clean Space initiative is assisting in the development of satellite components that are designed for demise, an approach to satellite development that advocates for the safe disposal of spacecraft by destructive atmospheric reentry.

The ESA Clean Space initiative was launched in 2012 to consider the environmental impact of the agency’s missions across their entire life cycle. A primary focus of Clean Space since its earliest days has been mitigating space debris through “design for demise.” The goal: making design choices that ensure a spacecraft component has less than a 1 in 10,000 chance of surviving reentry and posing a threat to people on the ground.

When considering how to design components that are more likely to burn up in the atmosphere during reentry, the Clean Space team took a novel approach. Instead of relying on modeling software to understand the forces exerted on a specific component during a satellite’s reentry, the team followed their models up with real-world testing.

In order to simulate what a satellite and its components would experience during reentry, the team utilized a plasma wind tunnel at German space agency DLR’s facility in Cologne. The wind tunnel is able to mimic the superheated gas, or plasma, that satellites encounter during reentry, subjecting individual components and sections of satellites to several thousands of degrees Celsius.

Following a series of initial studies to identify which components of a satellite were most likely to survive reentry, the ESA Clean Space team began initial plasma wind tunnel testing in 2015. These initial tests were completed on a selection of materials utilized in satellite construction including aluminum titanium alloy and stainless steel.

The first test on a component of a satellite was conducted in 2018. During this test campaign, the team put a reaction wheel, which is used to enable three-axis attitude control, through a simulated reentry. In addition to individual satellite components, the 2018 test campaign also put a complete cubesat through its paces.

The latest Clean Space yearlong design-for-demise test campaign was completed in March. This was the most ambitious set of testing yet with the team putting a broad selection of components through simulated re-entries including an onboard computer, a battery module, and a magnetorquer.

According to Clean Space systems engineer Tiago Soares, each test managed to yield at least one surprising result. In an interview, Soares said one particularly illuminating test involved a magnetorquer supplied by Portuguese space technology company LusoSpace.

A magnetorquer is a widely used satellite actuator that interacts with Earth’s magnetic field to create torque that can be used for attitude control and stabilization. LusoSpace’s magnetorquer consists of a carbon fiber reinforced polymer composite shell that houses an iron-cobalt core wrapped with copper coils. The Clean Space team had expected the carbon fiber shell to melt first, followed by the copper coils, and then the core. This, however, was not the case.

Instead of merely melting off, the carbon fiber shell remained largely intact before peeling away from the component’s internals. The copper coils then melted as expected, leaving the core and one last surprise.

The team discovered that the core had a higher than expected energy emissivity, meaning the iron-cobalt material was emitting most of the energy it was receiving. This caused it to take far longer to melt than expected. In fact, the ceramic mounts that were being used to fix the magnetorquer in place began to melt while the core remained largely intact.

The insight garnered from the test and others like it revealed that in order to ensure a satellite’s magnetorquer burns up safely, it was necessary to expose the core as early in the reentry phase as possible. With this insight in mind, LusoSpace made some changes to a next-generation magnetorquer that had been under development following a preliminary Clean Space study completed in 2015.

According to LusoSpace representative André Rodrigues Santos, the new design features a revised shape that exposes a portion of the core. The result is a magnetorquer that is expected to burn up completely when it separates from a spacecraft structure at an altitude of at least 78 kilometers. Previous models of magnetorquers would only have had a 60% chance of burning up when released at such altitudes.

The new magnetorquer is expected to reach the Technology Readiness Level 6 phase of its development in 2021, which is mature enough for LusoSpace to begin offering the product to satellite manufacturers. According to Santos, the company is currently in the bidding phase for a number of projects.

With the success of the initial design, LusoSpace was awarded an ESA contract in early 2019 to qualify a larger magnetorquer and produce a new line of the components. The contract was awarded under the agency’s Generic Support Technology Program with a small contribution from ESA’s Earth Observation Program, a future potential customer for this kind of demisable hardware.

According to Soares, the magnetorquer has been a pioneer for the Clean Space team’s design-for-demise efforts. It is, however, one of many under development thanks to the ESA initiative. The Clean Space team has been involved in the development of propellant tanks, reaction wheels and battery modules designed for demise, several of which are also approaching maturity.

On top of the satellite components already under development, the Clean Space team expects to return to the plasma wind tunnel to perform a new batch of reentry simulations. This new test campaign will include solar array drive mechanisms and monopropellant tanks. It will also see the introduction of an updated test stand that will enable the team to rotate parts to mimic the tumbling experienced by a satellite during reentry.

In addition to promoting space debris mitigation, the ESA Clean Space initiative is also exploring green satellite design, in-orbit servicing, and active debris removal solutions. The Clean Space team consists of six full time employees and is headed by ESA veteran Luisa Innocenti. The initiative receives input and assistance from several other ESA departments, in particular the Technology Development Element program which pursues next-generation technology in line with ESA objectives.

This article originally appeared in the Nov. 16, 2020 issue of SpaceNews magazine.

#Space

[jmeelee]

Hey! For the mini fic prompts, please can I request no. 21, things you said when we were on top of the world? For Sterek, if possible, but if you feel more inspired to write something for one of your other ships then go for it. Thank you!😊😘❤️

This prompt made me think SPACE!! So here is a Sterek + The 100 AU

The prisoners line up, two by two, a solemn procession through a wide, deserted corridor and down a steep launch ramp into the dropship, and the symbolism isn’t lost on Derek. Up until a week ago, Chancellor Argent probably fashioned himself a benevolent god, sparing two hundred juvenile delinquents from certain death while attempting to ensure the survival of the human race. But that death, while certain, was at least humane. A pin-prick to the vein and eternal oblivion. Today Chris Argent lords over the proceedings with a grim, stoic face as his only child—his daughter, Allison—boards the ship in her gray penitentiary jumpsuit, her heavy, rubber-soled boots squeaking against the floor, echoing over the persistent, invasive hum of the rocket engines. Today the Chancellor can’t deny what this really is: a probable suicide mission.

Allison makes her first of three stops before claiming her seat in the shuttlecraft, pausing in front of a guard who removes her handcuffs. Thus far, the guard has pushed each young man or woman roughly toward Nurse Melissa McCall, but he gently nudges Allison forward, a wary eye darting toward her father. With shaking fingers, Nurse McCall wipes antiseptic over the porcelain skin on the inside of Allison’s right arm, fastening a metal bracelet with colorful blinking lights around her wrist.

“It’s a vital transponder,” Melissa informs Allison. “With this, we’ll be able to monitor your blood pressure, breathing rate, radiation levels, and all sorts of things from right here in the control room of our space station.” Melissa offers a reassuring smile, but it trembles like her hands. Moments ago, Derek watched her fasten a transponder to the arm of her own son.

Now Allison faces to her father, the final stop on an assembly line sending kids to slaughter. He gives her the same canned speech he has to all the others. “When you walk onto this ship, you are hereby pardoned of your crimes. I hope you’ll use this chance to atone for your impermissible behaviors and mistakes. This is an unpress—“

Allison shoves her metal-cuffed wrist under his nose, stopping his spiel. This isn’t freedom, as her father would have the prisoners believe; she knows it, Chancellor Argent knows it, Melissa McCall and the rest of the Council know it. They’ve simply traded one set of shackles for another. She tilts up her chin and holds her father’s eye. “Good bye, Dad.” Derek swears more streaks of gray crop up at Argent’s temples, grooves deepening at the corners of his eyes. She turns away and takes her seat next to Scott McCall—the star-crossed lover for whom she’s defied both Colony law and her family—sitting back and letting Officer Camden Lahey fasten her harness. She doesn’t spare her father a second glance.

Chris Argent’s wounded face broadcasts so much pain Derek prays he’ll call an end to this crazed endeavor, but he straightens—the same steel in his spine hardens Allison’s, allowing her to walk with grace out of a detention cell and into what will likely become her coffin—continuing on with the pomp and circumstance. Derek’s rekindled hope burns out like a dying star.

When Derek averts his eyes from the dramatic family scene he spots who he’s searching for, prisoner 129, Stiles Stilinski, watching Derek with dawning horror, tension festering at the hunched line of his shoulders.

Stiles is smart. Too smart. Keen brown eyes take in Derek’s blue uniform, shirt fitting looser around his broad shoulders in the half-year they’ve been parted, and the other puzzle pieces snap into place. He’s working from the outside edges—extra rationing, his father’s execution, his stint in solitary confinement, this culling of convicts—but as he twists each piece this way and that in his mind’s eye, the picture becomes clear. There is a reason why capital punishment is the new norm for breaking the most mundane Colony laws. Their space station is dying; the powers that be are dropping extra cargo in the hopes of surviving a little longer. This time, it happens to be human cargo.

Every teenager who files into the ship brings Derek and Stiles closer together, until Stiles is passing right in front of him. Heat radiates from Stiles’ skin, like steam from a rare hot shower. Derek sways closer, imagines reaching across the infinitesimal space and having Stiles’ body under his hands one more time. He’s one of less than a dozen guards accompanying the prisoners to what will ultimately be their freedom, or their deaths; it would be so easy, and to do so after this period of separation would be a balm to his bruised soul. But now is not the time. The time has been cruelly stolen from them.

He’d happened upon Stiles, perched in a window seat on G deck during his first week on patrol. “This corridor is off limits,” Derek had told him, still high off the power trip of his newly earned guard title.

“Yes, sir.” Stiles offered a jaunty little salute and a sardonic smirk, and Derek was a goner. Stiles knew it, too, because he kept coming back, day after day, and Derek let him. Eventually, Derek had come to think of their meetings as cosmic kismet.

“Of all the windows on all the stations, you had to park your ass in mine,” Derek joked, watching Stiles doodle in his sketch pad with the graphite pencil Derek pilfered for him. “Why this particular window?���

“It has the best view,” Stiles whispered, brown eyes abandoning the page he’d been intently focused on, zeroing in on Derek’s face instead. But Stiles was right. Everyday, without fail, ten minutes before Derek’s shift was due to end, Earth came into view out the window, bursting with blues and greens and whites, the colors vivid, alive; nourishing their souls after a constant diet of stark, muted grey aboard the ship.

“When I see it, I feel like I’m on top of the world. Like anything is possible,” Stiles said. “It gives me hope for the future.”

“That’s funny,” Derek replied, heart beating a frantic tattoo against his sternum.

Stiles laughed, eyes twinkling. His face was pale as the moon under the circadian lights of the ship, a constellation of moles standing out in stark relief along his jawline. “Why is it funny? Because Earth is a toxic wasteland and won’t be able to support life for another hundred years?”

“No.” Derek smiled, softly. “Because that’s how I feel when I look at you.”

Now, as Stiles passes by, Derek feels anything but hopeful. Stiles shakes his head, the move tiny, imperceivable to anyone else, a flick of brown hair—grown long in his six-month confinement—off his forehead. Don’t be a hero, it screams.

He watches the transponder get fastened to Stiles wrist (I sucked a bruise there on our first night together), memorizes the hard line of Stiles’ mouth when the tiny needles inside the cuff pierce his pallid skin (his lips were always so soft when I kissed them). Derek shoves the memories to the back of his mind, where they need to stay if he has any hope of going through with this.

Once they’re all loaded into the shuttle, strapped into rows of harnessed seats, a Council member steps up to the small box mounted on the adjacent wall, presses a series of buttons, and a three-minute timer pops up onto the display, flashing green as it counts down. Hot beads of sweat roll down Derek’s spine, seeps through his shirt, but he ignores that, too.

00:03:00

When he’d first gotten wind of the culling, he’d gone straight to Erica Reyes—his friend Vernon Boyd’s girlfriend and an apprentice engineer—and bribed her to give him a breakdown of the launch process.

“Hypothetically, how could they make this happen?” Derek had desperately questioned, cutting through her technical muttering.

She shoved the extra ration coins he’d slipped her in the pocket of her moth-eaten lab coat. “Each station is equipped with cargo crafts, but the Council would never touch those. It’s too public, everyone would know they were launching defenseless kids into space. The only thing I can think of is the hunk of junk ferry rocket on S desk they use for spare parts.” She shook her head. “It’s prehistoric. I’m no rocket scientist, but that thing would be lucky to survive reentry into atmosphere.”

“There will be children on board, Erica. Most are eighteen, coming up for parole, but some are as young as twelve.”

She’d frowned, the coin’s jingling in her pocket. “I’m sorry, Derek. You don’t send people into space in a relic if you care whether or not they make it to their destination. Whether they’re twelve or twenty, the Council doesn’t give a shit.”

“So tell me what I can do.”

00:02:00

The Chancellor stands before the doors to the ship, monologuing like a villain, gaze focused on the harried teens in front of him. Some glare back, some blink away tears, some struggle against their restraints. “You’ve been given a second chance at life,” Chris Argent tell them. “You’re the pioneers; the course is yours.”

00:01:00

Derek’s eyes dart around, counting a total of sixteen adults, including the Chancellor, remaining on the deck. He’s lucky they valued secrecy over security today.

00:00:30

The time comes.

The descending numbers on the launch pad flash red, as Erica told him them would. He has twenty seconds before the hatch automatically shuts, and manual override becomes impossible.

Argent is still droning on, telling the teens they are making history, they will be the first humans to leave this space station in over three hundred years. They should be proud.

He steps up behind the Chancellor, pulse skyrocketing, and taps him on the shoulder. Chris Argent pivots, eyebrows lowered. “What is it, Officer Hale?”

Derek’s green eyes drop to the pin on the collar of the Chancellor’s shirt—the insignia of their Colony, that once stood for unity. So it’s in the spirit of togetherness, for better or for worse, that Derek lets his hand quickly drop to the holster attached to his belt, and before anyone can think to move, there’s the sharp sound of a gunshot.

Chris Argent grabs at his stomach, blood flowing like a river between fingers, splattering Derek’s boots like droplets of rain.

The sight of the Chancellor’s wound pulls the remaining people on the launch deck toward them like a black star, and Derek ducks under the arms of the guards who reach for him instead of helping their leader, rolling under the hatch as it seals shut, locking him inside the dropship. Furious banging erupts on the doors as he falls into the unoccupied seat next to Stiles, tucking the still-smoking gun between his knees as he buckles his harness.

“I could have survived anything, if I thought you were up here, safe and alive,” Stiles tells him. Derek can read the fear in his wet eyes. “Even if it was only for a little bit longer.”

A series of bleeps emit from the instruments in the cockpit. The purr of the engines becomes a roar, and Stiles’ fingers dig into the plastic armrest like claws.

“I couldn’t have lived with myself if I let you go alone,” Derek replies, wiping the star-bursts of blood off his face. “So here we are.”

Stiles nods. “Here we are. We won’t be on top of the world for much longer, but at least we’ll be together.”

With a jarring blast, the ship detaches from the space station, and they free-falling, barrelling toward Earth, a planet left for dead three hundred years ago, at a thousand kilometers an hour.

The first leg of their journey is relatively calm, the sun outside the windshield a red thumbprint against a blue-black sky dotted with stars. Some of the passengers pray, some excitedly discuss the probability of surviving on the surface of a world ravaged by nuclear and biological war. Stiles reaches over, squeezes Derek’s knee, and he jolts, losing the grip on his gun. It floats weightless through the cabin, prompting some of the former inmates to unfasten their harnesses and somersault through the air. But soon the stars fade, as does the light, replaced by smokey-gray clouds of atmosphere.

“Everyone, get back in your seats!” Allison Argent warns.

One boy mockingly laughs as he floats in front of her. “Who the hell are you to tell me what to do? Just because your daddy was the boss doesn’t mean you get to be in charge. You’re not—“

A loud bang on the port side cuts off whatever he was going to say, their calm voyage turning abruptly terrifying as turbulence jerks their vessel. The boy crashes into the front window as the ship lurches downward, his head leaving behind a smear of blood. He speaks no more. Muttered prayers become shrill screams, and the acrid scent of vomit fills the cabin.

The ship shakes, primal roar of the engine mutating into a piercing wail as they plummet. “Derek!” Stiles yells as grey smoke gives way to red flames and spiderweb cracks splinter the windshield. Erica’s voice fills his ears, warning him the shuttle’s sensor systems may be too antiquated to safety guide them through strong winds and dangerous atmospheric conditions. The prayers return at a fevered level, some people crying desperately for their mothers and fathers over the stuttering grind of failing mechanics.

“Give me your hand,” Derek yells back, locking their fingers together. The desire to say something profound flares in his gut, to use his last words to convey how much finding Stiles in that window seat on top of the world meant to Derek.

“Stiles,” He rasps, hardly recognizing his own voice. It’s the only thing he has time to say.

They are a meteor, burning fast and bright through the sky. Derek closes his eyes, and makes a wish.

The crash rattles every bone in his body, his front teeth slicing through his bottom lip like a razor through silk. His neck lolls with abandon, body jerking like a rag doll, but his harness—and Stiles’ solid grip on his hand—hold him secure as the shuttle skids to a halt, a gaping wound torn through the outer and inner hull on the starboard side. The smell of stale vomit is overpowered by melting metal, burning fuel and coppery blood.

“If the outside air is still poisonous, we’ll be dead in minutes,” Stiles gasps, and no one gets up, searching each other for signs of radiation sickness.

None come.

“It pains me to say this,” Scott McCall grimaces at Allison, “but maybe your father didn’t heartlessly send us to our deaths after all.”

“Maybe,” she concedes. “But he’s still a dick.”

One by one they slowly exit the ship. The buckle of Derek’s auto-release jams, so he pulls a utility knife from his holster with numb fingers and saws at the neon orange straps. He unhooks Stiles, and together they stumble, arms wrapped around each other’s waists, toward the laceration in the wall, holding each other steady as they adjust to the gravitational pull of Earth. They step outside.

Derek blinks, jaw dropping. It’s not the ravaged, nuclear wasteland they’ve read about in their Earth Studies textbooks; the unsurvivable world.

All around him chirping birds sing and clicking crickets jump. The sweet scent of soil fills his nose, sharper than anything he’s ever smelled aboard the space station.

Snow-capped mountains dot the distance landscape, a lush green canopy hangs above them, multi-colored blossoms bloom around their feet, and warm sunlight kisses Stiles’ moles.

“I’ve never seen so many colors,” Stiles exclaims, eyes roaming over the verdant hills, listening to the wind whisper through the tall grass.

“You were wrong,” Derek tells Stiles, cradling his smiling face between his palms. He laughs. “This is the best view.”

Their lips meet in a kiss that tastes like fresh air, like freedom, like hope.

They’ve hurtled through space, crash-landed in the dirt to face insurmountable odds.

They’re the lowest they’ve ever been.

They’re on top of the world.

Send me a pairing and a prompt and I’ll write you a mini fic