Orbit Cleanup: Hunting Space Junk

Welcome to the 50th Trend Hacker Future Story; trends beyond your bubble.

It's 2034, and alarms are flashing in the corporate briefing room at Orbital Maintenance Corp (OMC). Space debris alerts – a growing threat to the booming space economy, a tangle of ground-based and orbital solutions.? Amazon's Kuiper network rivals Starlink, while China's LEO constellation surges. Space is getting smaller, and the race for resources is heating up.

Furthermore, we see space laws are still being adapted, such as the Liability Convention and the Registration Convention of Objects Launched Into Space. Since more and more corporations are entering this space, the states are unwilling to take over the liability for falling objects and debris collisions damaging other objects in space. Who's liable if your satellite is smashed by orbital junk? New space etiquettes emerge, but will self-regulation be enough?

Finally, we are coming closer to the story. A new industry is starting to grow space cleanup. It is a mix of cooperation between companies and governmental agencies.

It's a global experiment: China and Australia test powerful lasers, while Europe unveils net collectors (imagine giant space fishing nets!). The US employs a "gas-shooting" technique for debris deceleration, aiming to slow it down for Japan's space magnet to capture. 2034 is a time of trial and error, with the winning solution yet to be determined. Perhaps this glimpse into the future holds the answer.

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Marianne Delcourt gnaws at her lip as she reviews the swarm of new satellite alerts. A bead of sweat trickles down her forehead. Please, not today... she slams a fist on the console. If only everyone cleaned up their mess, space wouldn't be this damn crowded.

The room's tense at OMC murmur halts as an alert from the European Space Agency dominates every screen: a tangle of shattered solar panels, further fragmented after a collision with some startup's reckless cubesat, has changed course.

The debris field, now a growing cloud of shrapnel, is hurtling toward a vital next-generation weather satellite… our eyes for the next heat wave. "This wasn't in our calculations," Marianne exclaims, her voice tight with frustration and a flicker of fear while feeling the cold breeze of the air-conditioning.

The team springs into action. "Reroute the collectors!" Marianne snaps. Her finger jabs at a technician. "Now! It wasn't built for this, but it's all we've got! “The net collector, initially designed for methodical space debris cleanup, is frantically redirected toward the menacing debris field.

However, its original programming was not designed for such a dense and unpredictably moving target, adding layers of complexity and risk to the operation. The other collector, 4A, with its powerful arms, could snatch the larger debris... but it is slow and might not catch up with the speed of the debrief field.

Simultaneously, Marianne receives another blow: Their American partner cannot lend their satellite with gas-shooting technology. It's already committed elsewhere, assisting a corporate satellite launch. " We're on our own this time." She glances at her team, a flicker of doubt crossing her face before she masks it with steely determination.

As they watch the real-time data, Marianne paces slowly, her mind racing. "If we don’t manage this, no one will," she tells her team. The weight of their responsibility is immense; the potential consequences of failure could trigger a further chain of collisions, underscoring the critical need for their services more than ever.

Flicker in the Control Room; each monitors a window to the crowded skies above Earth. Technicians, their faces lit by the soft glow of their screens, work with focused intensity. The room is alive with the urgency of their mission and the sounds of rapid keystrokes and chatter.

Marianne Delcourt oversees the operation from the central console, and her presence is commanding and decisive. “Keep the lines open with the European Space Agency, and get me status updates every five minutes,” she instructs her team, her tone firm yet calm. The net collector inches towards the debris. Sparks fly as a jagged metal edge snags on the mesh. 'Hold together!' Marianne whispers.

OMC control room watches breathlessly as the collector begins its work. The net, a brilliant mesh of engineered fibers, expands, reaching out to ensnare the hurtling fragments of metal and composites. “Adjust the trajectory by 0.3 degrees,” Marianne directs, pointing to a technician. The slight adjustment is crucial, accounting for the extra debris from recent collisions that the system had not originally anticipated.

Simultaneously, with their American partner's satellite unavailable, their only other option is now 4A, the satellite with robotic arms, usually reserved for larger debris. The satellite finally maneuvers into position matching the speed, its arms extending slowly with mechanical precision. The control room holds its breath as the arms grapple with a particularly large piece of debris, a defunct satellite panel spilling wildly through space.

The tension in the room peaks as an unforeseen problem arises—small, sharp fragments zip past the net, missing capture. “Track those pieces!” Marianne says. Her eyes never leave the screen, watching as the fragment heads straight for a critical communication satellite.

Marianne clenches her fists, her gaze fixed on the screens displaying the satellite's status. "Damage report, anyone!" she asks. The room falls silent, waiting for ESA to share the details. A technician quickly analyzes the received data, his voice steady but tense as he replies, "Minor damage to the solar panel array, no critical functions impaired."

A sigh of relief passes through the room, but the moment is short-lived. The incident is a stark reminder of their precarious situation.

As the operation continues, the control room remains a nerve center of activity. Technicians adjust the trajectories of the net collector and robotic arms, striving to clear as much space as possible before the gains emergency slot times out.

Back in OMC’s control room, the atmosphere has shifted from tense urgency to a mixture of relief and contemplation. The screens now show a slightly less cluttered orbit, and the immediate threat has been mitigated but not eliminated. Marianne Delcourt leans against the back of her chair, her eyes tracing the paths of satellites and debris on the large central monitor.

"We got lucky," she murmurs to her team, who are gathered around, their expressions a blend of fatigue and subdued triumph. "But we can't rely on luck." Though not disastrous, the minor collision serves as a poignant reminder of the precarious balance they maintain. The room nods in agreement, the reality of their work settling in like a heavy cloak.

As they debrief, the conversation turns to the future. "We need to push for more stringent regulations," Marianne states, her voice firm, carrying a new resolve.

“Every launch needs to include pre-deployment of debris management solutions. It’s the only way to ensure space remains safe and sustainable. And it's not just up to governments anymore," Marianne announces, her voice ringing with newfound determination. "Starting now, OMC will work with insurers, investors, and any company that relies on space assets. We refuse to clean up the mess; we're going to the source."?