To Grasp the Heavens

...

Unfortunately, there is a problem with all of the estimates – they assume a low-pressure J-2S engine.
I assumed it, because Encyclopedia Astronautica publishes (as I write, but I have emailed the site owner Mark Wade about it already) that both J and J-2S had chamber pressures of 30 bar, which is 435 psi.

It didn't take long to find other sources such as this NASA informational sheet

https://www.nasa.gov/centers/marshall/pdf/499245main_J2_Engine_fs.pdf

Claiming 763 psi. So clearly something went wrong at EA, and I went wrong simply trusting it. I did figure that something as well publicized as the J-2 would not have mistakes in its entry. As for the J-2S raising the psi to 1200, well, that's a pretty amazing trick considering that the engine comes out lighter rather than heavier than the J-2--apparently then either it was easy to design and build a much stronger combustion chamber, or else the J-2 chamber was massively overstrong for its job! This is why I though it was plausible the J-2S which after all was meant to be an incremental improved version of J-2 and not some whole new engine would carry over the same pressure, and reading both Wikipedia (which credits Wade's page as a source) and EA itself on the J-2S, neither one mentions raising the chamber pressure, although you'd think that would be worth a mention, among the other changes described.

Also, when I input 30 bar into the RPA model I got outputs that were consistent with the other published parameters such as Isp--thrust of course I can't compare, not without knowing the nozzle throat area anyway. With the NASA sheet for the J-2 I could also check temperature but generally speaking I can only find a few parameters, and most of them are from sources like Encyclopedia Astronautica or Wikipedia. Note that the latter does confirm 763 psi for chamber pressure for J-2--and says nothing at all about J-2S chamber pressure!

So everything I did in RPA was off base regarding the J engines.
...
In that mode, orbiter has a wet mass (ex fuel & payload) of 53.5t, plus 4t OMS fuel. It has four J-2R engines, which are ground-lit.
I haven't fired up RPA tp check yet but it is entirely plausible that with chamber pressures double and quadruple what I thought they were, ground performance will be in the ballpark of an SSME's in terms of relation of vacuum to sea level thrust. So, you most certainly can ground light them then.

What I wonder is, why bother to do so? Why not just stage in succession, and specialize the upper stage engine for vacuum while the lower stage (solids here) are for better performance in atmo at some sacrifice of vacuuum efficiency, which is irrelevant? Although my presentation may have obscured it, by the time I was able to tweak a two-solid version to just barely meet minimal targets enough that it could be said to be able to reach orbit at all, transferring those orbiter and tank assumptions over to a doubled first stage version resulted in overkill in terms of reaching and far exceeding the target payload goals. And I'll bet right now if I run the figures you give below in Silverbird, but simply wait to light the J-2Rs until the solids burn out--well that might not work so well since the tank would be overweight, but slimming it down a bit ought to result in again far exceeding the targets.

I just don't see the advantage of the parallel burn. It is necessary with STS because the very high pressure and otherwise demanding SSME cannot be reliably air lit, but even with a ten percent or more pressure upgrade beyond J-2S's 1200 psi, it should not be difficult to make the J-2R reliably light.

And what this does is demolish years of my misunderstandings of the Shuttle Decision, and make it seem even more irrational. If J-2S could deliver good thrust on the ground, why the hell develop SSME at all?

In your TL they don't and profit by it.

I've complained about various idiot balls before, but with the J engines already pretty good, and to close little gaps like getting a 450 instead of 436 Isp in vacuum would seem pretty easy, it seems that we live in a world where they are juggled in great numbers!
 
I assumed it, because Encyclopedia Astronautica publishes (as I write, but I have emailed the site owner Mark Wade about it already) that both J and J-2S had chamber pressures of 30 bar, which is 435 psi.

It didn't take long to find other sources such as this NASA informational sheet

https://www.nasa.gov/centers/marshall/pdf/499245main_J2_Engine_fs.pdf

Claiming 763 psi. So clearly something went wrong at EA, and I went wrong simply trusting it. I did figure that something as well publicized as the J-2 would not have mistakes in its entry. As for the J-2S raising the psi to 1200, well, that's a pretty amazing trick considering that the engine comes out lighter rather than heavier than the J-2--apparently then either it was easy to design and build a much stronger combustion chamber, or else the J-2 chamber was massively overstrong for its job! This is why I though it was plausible the J-2S which after all was meant to be an incremental improved version of J-2 and not some whole new engine would carry over the same pressure, and reading both Wikipedia (which credits Wade's page as a source) and EA itself on the J-2S, neither one mentions raising the chamber pressure, although you'd think that would be worth a mention, among the other changes described.

-Unfortunately, the EA site has rather a lot of estimates and guesses, although as you say the J-2 should have been a fairly safe bet.

The J-2 was a very conservative design, as it was almost the first practical LH2 engine (RL-10 was slightly earlier, but not enough to help much). It was sufficiently overbuilt that they were able to uprate it from 200klbs to 230klbs with few changes, and its dry weight wasn’t helped by the rather odd pump design.

As you have seen, J-2S was a completely new engine, it didn’t even use the same turbine cycle as the J-2 (tap off vs. gas generator on J-2). They did however design it to be compatible with the J-2 mountings, controls and thrust assemblies, to be as close to a “drop in” replacement as possible.
Also, when I input 30 bar into the RPA model I got outputs that were consistent with the other published parameters such as Isp--thrust of course I can't compare, not without knowing the nozzle throat area anyway. With the NASA sheet for the J-2 I could also check temperature but generally speaking I can only find a few parameters, and most of them are from sources like Encyclopedia Astronautica or Wikipedia. Note that the latter does confirm 763 psi for chamber pressure for J-2--and says nothing at all about J-2S chamber pressure!

So everything I did in RPA was off base regarding the J engines.
-Your analysis was excellent, except for that one problem.
I haven't fired up RPA tp check yet but it is entirely plausible that with chamber pressures double and quadruple what I thought they were, ground performance will be in the ballpark of an SSME's in terms of relation of vacuum to sea level thrust. So, you most certainly can ground light them then.

What I wonder is, why bother to do so? Why not just stage in succession, and specialize the upper stage engine for vacuum while the lower stage (solids here) are for better performance in atmo at some sacrifice of vacuuum efficiency, which is irrelevant? Although my presentation may have obscured it, by the time I was able to tweak a two-solid version to just barely meet minimal targets enough that it could be said to be able to reach orbit at all, transferring those orbiter and tank assumptions over to a doubled first stage version resulted in overkill in terms of reaching and far exceeding the target payload goals. And I'll bet right now if I run the figures you give below in Silverbird, but simply wait to light the J-2Rs until the solids burn out--well that might not work so well since the tank would be overweight, but slimming it down a bit ought to result in again far exceeding the targets.

I just don't see the advantage of the parallel burn. It is necessary with STS because the very high pressure and otherwise demanding SSME cannot be reliably air lit, but even with a ten percent or more pressure upgrade beyond J-2S's 1200 psi, it should not be difficult to make the J-2R reliably light.

-I start the J-2R engines on the ground because their thrust is needed. In that way the story’s shuttle is an even more optimised a design (or over-optimised) than the real one - Staging occurs even lower and slower, meaning the SRBs are underpowered and need all the help they can get in both thrust and total impulse.
As a consequence, the orbiter has a higher proportion of the total stack’s thrust (about 24% of total liftoff thrust vs about 18% in reality).
And what this does is demolish years of my misunderstandings of the Shuttle Decision, and make it seem even more irrational. If J-2S could deliver good thrust on the ground, why the hell develop SSME at all?

In your TL they don't and profit by it.

I've complained about various idiot balls before, but with the J engines already pretty good, and to close little gaps like getting a 450 instead of 436 Isp in vacuum would seem pretty easy, it seems that we live in a world where they are juggled in great numbers!

-In some of the early shuttle proposals they wanted to use J-2 or J-2s on the early orbiters, then move on to the high pressure engine a few years later. However it increased the length (and therefore cost) of development, and by ’72 the manufacturers were confident of building the HiPc engine straightaway. That certainly contributed to the delays. More importantly to my way of thinking, it allowed them to start presenting Shuttle as a “finished product”, rather than a Mk.1, Mk.2 etc…

There are several potential developments in the story’s Shuttle that could help out, most obviously better boosters, but someone has to come up with a plan to implement some of them.

They might not have the playing field to themselves though.
 
T-60 seconds, Handbag is Go for Launch

When Britain joined the EEC in 1973, it was the culmination of a decade-long struggle to convince France and the other members to admit her. As with so many long struggles, the achievement proved something of an anti-climax, as EEC membership became more expensive and the terms of membership became subject to ever greater debate. A renegotiation in 1975 was of little real significance, but the ideas and principles of the Community were sufficiently popular that the British people to voted to stay.

By the spring of 1984, now in a position of unassailable authority thanks to the election result, the improving economy and the swift victory in the Falklands, Mrs Thatcher's government could turn its attention to other matters. Previous ministerial discussions and summits of European leaders had produced few concrete proposals - for obvious reasons, none of the other EEC members wished to discuss reductions in the Community's budget. Germany's political and trading interests and her strong economy made it easy for her to contribute significantly to Community funds, while the French benefitted from membership in many other ways, most notably the generous subsidies of the CAP. For the other members, the EEC was a price worth paying, a noble project to enthuse about, or a cow to be milked.

As the British government started to ratchet up the tension and increase the insistency of its demands for a better deal, some on the periphery of the Community began to think there was no point in compromise, and that it might even be a relief if the troublesome Brits just left. However, such thoughts did not extend to the French and German leadership, who recognised that the European project could be irreparably damaged by the departure of a major member state.
With fresh threats of British payments to the Community being withheld, a summit meeting was arranged for June in the magnificent settings of the chateau at Fontainebleau. The first day of the talks brought little that was new to the negotiating table, and on day two the summit seemed on the brink of failure when a supposedly generous offer of a 50% rebate was rejected by the Prime Minister, much to the dismay of her officials. Late that night in private talks, the West German delegation made a further offer which amounted to a 60% rebate. This too was rejected, despite German advice that the French would never be persuaded to go any further.

The final day started with attempts to discuss other business; revisions to general mechanisms for funding the Community and establishing plans to permit future expansion. To the horror and shock of the diplomatic corps, these negotiations were soon swept away by Mrs. Thatcher's insistent demands for "my money back". There was no let up through the afternoon, and as the evening shadows began to lengthen, the assembly of Presidents and Ministers became more desperate to bring matters to a close. Orders were sent for car engines to be revved, it was suggested that the matter be concluded "after dinner", while one delegate even pretended to fall asleep. None of it made the slightest difference; it soon became clear that the all-out handbagging wasn't going to stop, and it began to look as if Britain might be on her way out of the EEC.

It was partly the patience of the Foreign Secretary, Sir Geoffrey Howe, that ultimately helped to break the deadlock. His suggestion to revisit the terms of an earlier German proposal brought a lowering of tensions, and paved the way for a compromise that would ultimately be tolerable for all parties, both politically and financially. The solution lay in the use of "European Special Development Funds"; Community money that was earmarked for use on projects that would be of broad benefit to the peoples of the EEC. Although originally intended for use in building infrastructure such as roads or railways, such a broad definition could easily be expanded to include areas such as telephony and scientific research. With a guarantee that a substantial fraction of these funds would be used to support major developments within the UK, Britain would nominally receive 68.2% of her money back (after deduction of funding adjustments and VAT transfers, this would actually be a 65% “discount”). The actual "rebate" of funds returned directly to Britain would be 53%, a rate that was acceptable to the French. In return, and to the relief of the rest of the European leaders, the British agreed to support structural changes to the Community in anticipation of its expansion over the next few years.

Back home, no time was wasted in submitting proposals and requests for funding, as it was made clear from “on high” that the promised European funds must be taken and used immediately. Roads in Wales and Scotland, museums across the North and efforts to harmonise standards across the Channel were among the programmes that quickly felt the benefit. On the technical side, a fledgling telecoms programme would see a major boost, and after much debate, would go on to unite Europe in ways never previously thought possible. There would also be funds channelled through ESA, the EEC's space agency, which would support the construction of a new research facility in the UK, and the plans to develop a new spacecraft to help address Europe's dependence on the USA.
 
Huh, we're going back to space and we'll make Europe pay?
Absolutely not, we're going back into space for sound technical and commercial reasons, and for the benefit of all Europe.
In doing that we're backed by those nice people in the EEC that we all love so much, and in no way have we blackmailed them into giving up lots of money.;)
 

Archibald

Banned
Hopefully this won't happens ITTL. I mean

"Mais qu'est ce qu'elle veut en plus cette mégère, mes couilles sur une assiette ?"
"What more does this housewife want from me? My balls on a plate?"

Jacques Chirac (through an open mic) about Margaret Thatcher during PAC negociations.
 
Hopefully this won't happens ITTL. I mean

"Mais qu'est ce qu'elle veut en plus cette mégère, mes couilles sur une assiette ?"
"What more does this housewife want from me? My balls on a plate?"

Jacques Chirac (through an open mic) about Margaret Thatcher during PAC negociations.

Ahlala Chirac , he has a big mouth :p
 

Archibald

Banned
Surely he was. He was also an aerospace buff (thanks to his strong connections with the Dassault father and son). Chirac was a die-hard supporter of OTL Hermes space plane.
 
....
In brief, it can put 27,500lbs (plus a small crew) into a 180km Earth orbit – so it hasn't met its design spec.

To cut short another post of mine back on the Shuttle issue, inputting your canon numbers into Silverbird seemed to suggest that this design ought to be far more successful than you find, well exceeding the nominal target to the easiest orbit and enabling nearly ten tonnes to 55 inclination, 500 miles altitude. That's with just two boosters!

I should move on to other things right now and double check again. Silver bird has only limited reliability but the way it was written included data on STS, so something so broadly similar ought to compute reasonably well.

As for the remark that they went for parallel lighting because it "needs the thrust" during early boost--why not just add a third SRB? There is plenty of room for it on the other side of the tank. Then of course all the hydrogen/oxygen propellant the 4 J engines would burn during the 112 sec of solid boost might not be needed, so it is weight--about 130+ tonnes plus tankage reductions--that comes off the stack (offset by a greater weight going on with the third SRB, around 300 tonnes, so overall it is heavier). Since the plan was always to upgrade to 4 boosters anyway, why not start with them, and cut down upper stage tank mass, and simplify J-2S operation, and generally speed up early development? Who ever needs a high pressure sea level hydrogen engine if boosters can do the whole low altitude boost job? This is what simple dumb low ISP but high thrust solids and other dumb booster types are for after all.

Starting with three Titan derived boosters, or for sure four, would almost certainly obviate the need to upgrade that from the developed seven segment version already designed and tested, no need to reformulate and retest a new propellant mix. Heck, five segment designs might be plenty with four, and those had a long track record of launches. Probably starting with a resolve to stick with known, developed tech for the Mark One would allow considerably greater initial payload estimates too and perhaps a moderately bigger Orbiter.

This is all water under the bridge by now but I have yet to ferret out a reason why this was a very smart route to take. Smarter than OTL, because it went somewhat in the general direction I like; dumber that it could have been.

I won't deny of course that all parties involved among the contractors and NASA centers would want to have some sort of cutting edge project to keep them happy; Rocketdyne and Thiokol would not be pleased to be told "all we're doing with you is ordering some standard rockets you've already developed off your shelves, no cutting edge development pork for you!" They'd be miffed that whoever did the spaceplane hull gets to do that while they are stuck with boring old manufacturing of 1960s designs. But in that case, if the reason for bigger better solids and fiddling with the J engine was to please the contractors' R&D departments, then they should aim for higher performance, since the off the shelf stuff already seems to exceed your targets by a lot.

And I remain mystified why your analysis has it falling short instead.
 
Ahlala Chirac , he has a big mouth :p

Surely he was. He was also an aerospace buff (thanks to his strong connections with the Dassault father and son). Chirac was a die-hard supporter of OTL Hermes space plane.
When you've got them by the balls, their hearts and minds will follow...

It’s fair to say that Europa (In the story, a French-led rocket based on Selene and IRBM tech) is going to be facing some challenges.
On the other hand, they may actually end up getting some of what they wanted, but maybe not in the way they wanted it.
 
To cut short another post of mine back on the Shuttle issue, inputting your canon numbers into Silverbird seemed to suggest that this design ought to be far more successful than you find, well exceeding the nominal target to the easiest orbit and enabling nearly ten tonnes to 55 inclination, 500 miles altitude. That's with just two boosters!

I should move on to other things right now and double check again. Silver bird has only limited reliability but the way it was written included data on STS, so something so broadly similar ought to compute reasonably well.
-Yes, I see 12994kg to 180x180 at 29d. I note that tool’s 95% confidence runs from 0-28500kg, showing what a sensitive vehicle it is i.e. any tiny change can have a severe effect on payload.

Back when I wrote the sheet, I was using it to model Ariane ascents, and to check it I modelled several known launches, with all the exact burnout masses, Isp figures and precise orbit parameters. As I recall it was within 0.1% for that application.
The shuttle ascent I have modelled wasn’t done anything like that carefully, so there would be a greater degree of uncertainty, but for the purposes of the story, I’ll stick with 27,500lbs (anything else can be added to the performance margin - what if a J-2 shuts down a bit early etc..).
As for the remark that they went for parallel lighting because it "needs the thrust" during early boost--why not just add a third SRB? There is plenty of room for it on the other side of the tank. Then of course all the hydrogen/oxygen propellant the 4 J engines would burn during the 112 sec of solid boost might not be needed, so it is weight--about 130+ tonnes plus tankage reductions--that comes off the stack (offset by a greater weight going on with the third SRB, around 300 tonnes, so overall it is heavier). Since the plan was always to upgrade to 4 boosters anyway, why not start with them, and cut down upper stage tank mass, and simplify J-2S operation, and generally speed up early development? Who ever needs a high pressure sea level hydrogen engine if boosters can do the whole low altitude boost job? This is what simple dumb low ISP but high thrust solids and other dumb booster types are for after all.

-Three is a difficult number to configure on a piggy-back orbiter. As you say four works, but even then there are likely to be more stress and vibration issues (which could be solved), and it’s more cost and more to go wrong. Lighting all the engines on the ground is nice thing to do on a manned vehicle with no bailout options. The orbiter needs its own engines anyway, so why not get the most out of them.

Second, there is the issue of pad weight. They had to strengthen the crawlerway for the real shuttle, as it was so much heavier than the Saturn and its tower. With this one they might have just got away with it with the small 2 booster design, but add another 600t and probably not. Maybe someone was looking for a few million to cut off the setup costs…
Starting with three Titan derived boosters, or for sure four, would almost certainly obviate the need to upgrade that from the developed seven segment version already designed and tested, no need to reformulate and retest a new propellant mix. Heck, five segment designs might be plenty with four, and those had a long track record of launches. Probably starting with a resolve to stick with known, developed tech for the Mark One would allow considerably greater initial payload estimates too and perhaps a moderately bigger Orbiter.

This is all water under the bridge by now but I have yet to ferret out a reason why this was a very smart route to take. Smarter than OTL, because it went somewhat in the general direction I like; dumber that it could have been.

I won't deny of course that all parties involved among the contractors and NASA centers would want to have some sort of cutting edge project to keep them happy; Rocketdyne and Thiokol would not be pleased to be told "all we're doing with you is ordering some standard rockets you've already developed off your shelves, no cutting edge development pork for you!" They'd be miffed that whoever did the spaceplane hull gets to do that while they are stuck with boring old manufacturing of 1960s designs. But in that case, if the reason for bigger better solids and fiddling with the J engine was to please the contractors' R&D departments, then they should aim for higher performance, since the off the shelf stuff already seems to exceed your targets by a lot.
...
-I think you are spot on with some of that. I have little doubt four 5-seg boosters would do it, but the 5-seg might have looked to be on the way out, whereas the 7-segs for the new bigger Titan could have looked like a better bet. I’ve then added of lot of mess with the upgrades, but I picture the development process going something like this:

Four existing boosters – No, too complex, too heavy, thrust profile issues etc... (aka “we want all new stuff”)
Two 7 segs – Yippee!, problem solved. Tight margins, but we’re confident and we’ve done XS-20.
Development gets underway.
Shuttle orbiter mass grows.
Oh *%&$ – those 7-segs don’t quite do it. Err… but we’ve designed everything else to fit them and the two booster configuration, and awarded all the contracts.
I know, we’ll upgrade the 7-seg boosters, after all we do have the technology to do it.
While we’re at it, we’ll squeeze a bit more performance out of the J-2S…
 
Loads'a Monaaaye…

The Society want you to give a lecture on how 'The Profit Motive' is a dirty word.
- Hmm … Write back and tell them it's three dirty words…


As the effects of the deregulation of financial services rippled out from the City of London, British firms found it easier and less restrictive to obtain funding. Awash with cash, both British investors and big-money American and Japanese merchant banks poured funds into the newly liberated markets. The Big Bang made the City the richest and most expensive place on the planet, but it wasn't just the new-money wideboys and turbocharged yuppies who saw the benefits.
For the first time, there was easy credit for the luxuries demanded by a modern eighties lifestyle, and once Sid had been told, the country was on the way to become a share-owning, home-owning democracy. While many first-time shareholders and other private investors rushed to snap up the initial offerings from the early privatisations, others looked at niche markets, and there were huge injections of capital into high-tech industries, innovative finance and of course, aerospace. Buoyed by their successes with MDAC and the Airbus deals, in 1986, BAC shares were offered on the market for the first time.

The capital raised was to have been used to help fund the development of new facilities to support Airbus production, and to conclude the takeover of Westland, a smaller British firm that had come out of the mergers of the 1960s, and had established itself in the helicopter business. BAC's board wanted the deal, and it had tacit support from the government, who hoped that it would help to create a large UK defence conglomerate that could become the equal of the giant US defence firms. To say the deal went spectacularly wrong would be the understatement of the decade. Competing bids were received from both US and European firms, either of which had the advantage of bringing large sums of money into the country. A strategically valuable European tie-up received the backing of several ministers, while the American bid looked like a better financial deal for Westland’s owners. From the other direction came calls for any foreign deal to be blocked, and the rhetoric hardened in both the press and the House of Commons. Personal opinions, loyalties and nationalism all entered the debate, and government unity appeared to be under threat as leaks and counter-briefings came out of Whitehall with alarming frequency.
In the summer, the dam burst when it emerged that one of the leading parliamentary advocates of a UK-only deal had financial links to BAC, and another was found to have lied to the House regarding his contacts with both Westland and Agusta. Resignations and a cabinet reshuffle followed, while the hint of potential fraud proceedings eliminated the prospect of any deal involving both BAC and Westland.

Seeking to distance itself from this scandal, and from other allegations surrounding sales to foreign governments, BAC's board decided that the time was right for a new name for the firm. After an exhausting series of disagreements and the employment of numerous marketing and advertising consultants, the result could only have been a hideous compromise. The BAC logo and name were so well established around the world that any major change there would risk loosing a vast amount of publicity (even if recently, it hadn’t all been favourable). Following various legal and ownership changes associated with the floatation, the trading name was changed to the "British Aerospace Corporation" in October 1986. Needless to say, almost no-one noticed, as the firm had always been known simply as "BAC". By comparison "British Aerospace" (never mind "British Aerospace Investment Group PLC", the firm's legal title) was an awkward mouthful. Perhaps most embarrassingly, the name "British Aircraft Corporation" would be wrongly used in press articles (and, even worse, in several legal documents signed by the firm) well into the 1990s. Such are the perils of re-branding.

Most of the influx of cash from the floatation would be used to build a new assembly plant to allow for acceleration of the A320 production line. However, with the Westland deal now scuppered, there were still significant sums left to expand research into the proposed European Fighter Aircraft, and to dramatically accelerate the space division’s latest development: Hyperion

Increasing co-operation between McDonnell Douglas and BAC had helped in the re-vitalisation of both firms’ launch vehicle businesses. By 1986, Black Anvil production was a thing of the past, but the availability of surplus booster cores after the introduction of the Cavalier missiles coincided with the restrictions on the use of the Space Shuttle that were imposed following the loss of the Falcon. A backlog of commercial launches had developed, and the queue only became longer as NASA became ever more cautious about Shuttle operations, and several delayed DoD missions took priority. Beyond that, the US military wanted “out” of the Shuttle as soon as was practical.
Employing a foreign company to provide US military launch services would be out of the question, but a co-operative venture between American and British firms might be considered alongside other US providers. In other circumstances, even this might not have been considered, but behind the scenes there was considerable concern over the state of the US launcher industry. Although both firms still built satellites and components, Lockheed and General Dynamics were out of the launcher business, while Martin-Marietta's “Titan” was under suspicion (it used similar boosters to the Shuttle). MDAC's highly successful “Delta” rocket program was in the final stages of being closed down by NASA as its payloads were switched to the Shuttle. The production line had been closed for several years, and there were only a few of the Thor-derived cores left in storage, most of which were already assigned to missions.

In the near-term, Titan would be kept going, but the clamour for a more diverse market was irresistible. The Air Force's Future Launch Vehicle (FLV) program had already started a competitive design and bidding process, and in November 1986, NASA's launch monopoly was ended when the President signed the Commercial Space Act. Under its terms, American businesses could develop and operate their own launch vehicles, and in future NASA and the Air Force would be required to tender for all development and space launch services (although there were numerous national security loopholes when it came to launches currently conducted by the USAF).

In the years since its original inception, FLV had expanded and was now split into more than a dozen separate awards. Some of these were for engines, orbital stages and other hardware, but to meet the DoD’s anticipated needs in the 1990s, the USAF was now tendering for “one and a half” heavy-lift rockets, two medium-lift vehicles and a light-medium class “responsive” launcher. Boeing and Rockwell already had the inside track on the prime HLV contract, while several consortiums were aggressively chasing the MLV deals. Among them was "Atlantic Aerospace", a joint venture between BAC and MDAC.
 
Sun, Sea and Space

The surplus Black Anvil missiles that were acquired by BAC upon completion of the Cavalier programme were valuable, high performance rockets. They were also utterly useless by themselves. BAC's problem was not the technology needed to convert the rockets into launch vehicles; all that would be required to do that was a small upper stage and a guidance system. The firm could easily provide the latter, and also had the technical ability to build an upper stage in-house (although management had a strong preference for sharing risk and costs with a partner).
What was lacking was the one thing that isn't being made any more - Land. Besides a large open space, a rocket launch facility is not just a concrete pad, a big hangar and a few supply tanks, it needs a complete range; tracking systems, security, transport, payload servicing, maintenance facilities and booster handling, in addition to all the skilled technicians needed to make sure everything works. By 1986, there were only two active East-facing ranges in the Western hemisphere - Kourou and Cape Canaveral. In the good old days, there used to be three.

Even with their new American partner McDonnell Douglas, time and options were coming up short, and as the possibilities offered by the joint venture and the USAF's FLV program start to turn into probabilities, BAC ramp up their efforts to re-activate the launch facilities at RAAF Gympie, about a hundred miles north of Brisbane.

The Rainbow Beach Space Launch Station had been built in the 1960s by the Australian government, as part of Australia's contribution to help the mother country (as the UK was often regarded at the time) develop her long-range missile and space programmes. Dozens of orbital launches had been made from the station between 1965 and 1983, including the flight of Selene 3 to the Moon. In some respects, the position was quite favourable. The "long" range had been deactivated in 1981, once it was determined that all future Black Anvil tests could be made from silos, however, the "short" range out over the Coral Sea was still used for smaller sounding rockets, most frequently the tiny “Skylark” that is one of the unsung heroes of both British and European space programmes.

The condition of the station is described as "varied". The oldest pads, 1 to 3, were built for the early Blue Streak missiles and by 1986 these were little more than concrete blocks crumbling in the damp sea air. The newest and largest, Pad 7 and Pad 8, were in a mixed condition. Built to launch the huge Constellation rockets to the Moon, they had been abandoned at the end of the Selene Project, leaving a great deal of the equipment to quietly rust in peace; "Abandon in Place" was the term used at the time. In the final months of The Project, the need to sustain the launch facilities for a potential Selene 6 flight had left few resources to spare on long term maintenance, and there was very little time to mothball them once it became clear that Selene 6 would never fly. The pads were therefore very much "active" right up until the Project was abruptly ended. With little money and few people left to care, they had been poorly preserved. Over a decade of tropical sea air, rain and vegetation had taken their toll, and some of the lighter steel structures were now little more than scrap; only something for tourists to look at from a safe distance.

Pads 4 and 6 were a different story. These had been built for the Black Anvil and Silver Star rockets. The dedicated Black Anvil Pad 4 had last seen a launch in 1981, and had been properly mothballed the following year. Pad 6 was built to host Silver Star (a Black Anvil rocket core fitted with an upper stage) and had been mothballed in 1983; sufficiently recently that its condition was described as "easily repairable". Pad 5 had once been equipped for manned launches under the Aurora programme, but parts of it had been removed in the late ‘70s, with some being re-used to help keep the other two pads operational. Concrete flame trenches and the structures of buildings and towers around the pads were in fundamentally good condition, it was only the exposed machinery that would need to be either replaced or refurbished.

As to the rest of the station, the docks and nearby airfield were still occasionally used and many of the range radars, tank farms and assembly hangars were still there; indeed the radars were vital to the "short" range that was still in use. Most of the tracking and range safety systems were thought to be showing their age, although it was noted that the systems at Cape Canaveral were of a similar vintage, and they still worked perfectly well, albeit with the benefit of a better-funded maintenance regime. Modern digital electronics could take care of many of the issues that were found with the tracking, control and telemetry systems, but it was clear that some basic infrastructure would need a significant refit; for instance, it was found that the LOX lines leading to Pad 4 were heavily corroded. At the simple end of the scale, the facilities would need a good clean; inspectors reported some "impressive spiders" living in one of the assembly buildings and that they had to chase away the occasional croc from brackish water near Pad 7.

Discussions with both the Federal and Queensland governments were less encouraging. There was little active opposition from lawmakers, but the nation now had other priorities. Australia had long since ceased to see itself as Britain's junior Commonwealth partner and there was no longer any desire to do Britain (or even a British firm) any favours. The prospect of re-invigorating the station with new, high-wage, high-tech jobs was obviously popular with local politicians, but this time, it could not be done entirely on the taxpayer's dollar.

The site's association with the controversial history of British nuclear tests on Australian territory allowed the increasingly loudmouthed environmental lobby to drag up old grievances of the damage that had been caused in the name of “helping Britain”, including repeating the old claim that the engineers who built Rainbow Beach had wanted to blast a sea lane through the offshore reef in order to allow easy access to the launch site. It was true that the option had been studied, but it had never gone beyond a paper report. Nevertheless, the idea that the British had wanted to blast and dredge part of one of Australia’s natural wonders in order to help with nuclear missile development was a convenient source of outrage for the sort of people who like to be outraged.

Such views were on the fringes of the debate, but it is true that the 1962 Commonwealth Deterrent Agreement marked the start of a controversial period of Anglo-Australian nuclear and defence policy, which a sizable fraction of the Australian population now chooses to see as the wholesale exploitation of Australia by the UK; their country being used as a testing and basing facility for many of Britain's nuclear weapons. The Australian government of the day had eagerly co-operated, buying aircraft from Britain that were equipped for nuclear delivery, while the UK maintained nuclear weapons for them on Australian soil until 1981 (or 1977, depending on exactly who you believe - the details are still classified).
All this history and the political and social debates since meant that there were a lot of memories of a less-confident nation, a place that many felt was treated as nothing more than a colony, totally unlike the young, bright, independently-minded country that Australians see themselves living in today.

Very little of this was directly relevant to what was being proposed by BAC, but it didn't help.
Besides these national and historical issues, there was a suspicion within the Australian administration that they were being played off against the USA. The joint venture between British and American firms would seem to make Australia a strange place from which to stage launches. The facilities at Cape Canaveral were thought to be far superior to Rainbow Beach, despite the lack of a ready-built pad suitable for Black Anvil-derived rockets.

Hard negotiations and the determined participation of the MDAC team would eventually win the day, to secure not only the permits and rights to use the site, but also a series of local and Federal tax breaks. What very few people in Australia fully appreciated was that political developments in the US meant that use of the Cape by an Anglo-American venture would be problematic, as other American aerospace firms lobbied hard to keep this “foreign competition” out of the US. Ironically, their efforts may have backfired. It would have taken several years for a suitable pad to be built at the Cape, whereas the pads and facilities at Rainbow Beach were refurbished for comparatively minimal time and cost.
With access to Rainbow Beach, the appeal of BAC and MDAC's concepts actually increased. Unlike many of their competitors, they had an interim design that could be ready within a couple of years. The booster cores existed and the upper stage would be derived from an existing, proven design.

"Delta Star" would be a surplus Black Anvil Block 3 missile topped by an adapted McDonnell Douglas Delta upper stage, with the payload and upper stage covered in a protective shroud that closely followed the old Silver Star design. The small, light upper stage presented few problems with structural loading of the rocket, and the combination was designed to be able to inject 4t into a geostationary transfer orbit. In most cases, this would likely be in the form of a pair of 1-2t spacecraft with a dual-launch adaptor. By comparison, the old Silver Star could inject about 9.6t into GTO, although much of this was in the form of fuel and the upper stage. However, unlike the old Hermes satellites that Silver Star was built to launch, modern spacecraft tend to be smaller and carry their own solid or liquid fuel propulsion systems to allow them to complete the transfer to GEO without the use of the rocket's upper stage.

Engineers agreed that Pad 6 at Rainbow Beach could be refurbished and adapted to launch the Delta Star within 12 months of a go-ahead, meaning the first launch might be made as soon as the autumn of 1987. Even if this were to drift by a few months, such a near-term option was attractive to USAF planners, who desperately wanted to have some alternative to the Shuttle, while from Atlantic’s perspective, it would bring cash into the business within months rather than years.

Later, the other pads could be adapted to launch BAC and MDAC's grand design: Hyperion
 
To Inform, To Entertain, To Inspire

In the 1960s, the Hermes satellite TV system was a spectacularly advanced and technically successful gamble. In 1967 Hermes-P was the first satellite to deliver signals right to people's homes, rather than to huge dishes operated by national or commercial telecoms organisations. Variants of the satellites would be sold to Australia, Canada, Japan and Germany, and similar designs would be used as the basis for the "Intelsat 4A" series of transatlantic and transpacific relays. However, this was to be Hermes' apogee, and in fact the programme had been dealt a severe blow in July 1968, when US TV network CBS decided not to proceed with a deal to buy Hermes relay satellites. Unable to break into the lucrative American market, Hermes' builders had to be content with smaller deals. Despite a lot of vague promises, Intelsat never repeated their order, and as terrestrial television networks improved, nationally funded satellite broadcasting started to fall out of favour.

By the time of the downturn of 1974, Hermes had been supported at government expense for more than a decade. The newest "Mark 2" satellites were longer-lived and more capable than the original versions, but now the manufacturer, Hawker-Siddeley, sought government funding to develop a radically new "Mark 3". The design owed little to the earlier versions; it would have been more powerful, flexible, and lighter than the Mk.2, and perhaps it should have gone on to be the father of almost all modern comsats - it could certainly have wiped the floor with any European competition. However, these were not the glory days of Selene in the mid '60s, and government funding of yet more expensive space research was not deemed to be acceptable. Hawker were told to find commercial funding to support the project, but by that time the firm itself was in financial difficulties and there were no backers. Europe had its own "Symphonie" programme, and the Americans were quietly happy to see one of their most dangerous competitors put out of action. To meet Britain's own requirements, Hermes Mk.2 continued to be built with minor improvements by the nationalised firm until 1982 and late that year, the production facilities were sold to GEC. The last Hermes Mk.2 went into orbit in January 1983, and was expected to be operational until at least the end of 1988.
In order to keep the service going beyond that, plans were already being made for a new generation of TV broadcast satellites, and GEC's acquisition of the ex-Hawker works at Hatfield gave them the facilities and many of the people they would need to build the replacement Hermes, and later, to start work on new bus designs and a concept for a “universal satellite”.

Government underwriting of the replacement Hermes allowed development to proceed steadily. The selection of an existing Hughes bus design in 1982 provided GEC with a sound basis for their first major venture into satellite construction and allowed them to focus on modernising the technology and practices at Hatfield rather than having to design a new spacecraft entirely from scratch.
In 1986, the deal between BAC and McDonnell Douglas gave everything a boost. For the first time, GEC-Hatfield (as the satellite division was now known) had guaranteed access to a large launch vehicle, which eased the mass concerns with the Hermes III design.
The loss of the Shuttle Falcon the previous year had thrown everything into confusion as NASA was forced to delay launches. Projections now showed that the last of the old Hermes Mk.2 satellites that carried Britain's four main TV channels should be operational until at least the summer of 1989, but planners wanted to launch the first of GEC's Hermes III spacecraft in 1987 to provide a healthy margin for delays, or to allow for unexpected failures. In the autumn of 1985, the backlog caused by the Shuttle disaster had pushed the launch back into the second half of 1988 (and NASA weren't even guaranteeing that), and so the prospect of flying the satellites on a "Delta Star" in early 1988 was a welcome relief.

Besides the technical and schedule pressures, there was another kind of pressure; Britain's right-wing press had long been critical of the decision to "rely on a foreign rocket" (even when the same papers were often very complementary about the USA - sometimes even on the same page!). The delays due to the Shuttle problems only re-enforced these opinions, and there were frequent letters and editorials on the theme "this didn't happen when we used to launch them". Despite such patriotic statements, British rocketry was in no way superior to American rocketry, and it overlooked the fact that there had been several delays in the '60s and '70s that came close to forcing at least one of Britain's TV stations off the air. Nevertheless, the world (and NASA for that matter) was beginning to realise that the Shuttle was not all it was supposed to be. There was already a backlog of launches before the Falcon disaster, caused by the Shuttle's lower than expected flight rate. Although US firms remained relatively loyal, foreign firms and governments were starting to complain about price rises and delays.

The first of the new generation of Hermes satellites was unveiled (inside its clean room) at an event in July 1987. The older versions were huge spacecraft, with a mass of up to 3.5 tonnes, and required the upper stage of the Silver Star to inject them into GSO.
These new versions are very different. For a start, they are equipped with solid-state photovoltaic cells in place of the solar-thermal generators, and use a solid-fuel motors to inject themselves into GSO, requiring the Delta Star only to inject them into GTO. The satellite's computers, attitude control and power handling systems are all completely new, and even the large ground-pointing dish of the original Hermes is totally different. Earlier satellites used a 16’ wide solid dish, but these modern versions carry a deployable set of mesh panels. These pack into a cylindrical shape, approximately 8'x2', and the use of a lightweight metal mesh means that the new antenna is lighter as well as smaller. Originally, this change was driven by the need to launch on the Space Shuttle. Unlike Silver Star, the shuttle could only accommodate payloads up to 12' in diameter. The underlying dish requirements remained the same, and so a means of deploying an oversized antenna was needed. Although Delta Star had fewer mass and size constraints, by the time it was confirmed as the launch vehicle, the design was complete and there was no incentive to change back to a fixed antenna.

On 16th May 1988, the second Delta Star rocket lifted off from Rainbow Beach carrying Hermes III/A. Thirteen days later, the first signals were broadcast to British homes via the satellite. The new transmission systems could generate a slightly shaped beam at slightly higher power and included filters and lower-noise components than the older versions. Viewers across most of England noted a small but definite improvement in picture quality, although this was less widely seen in Northern Ireland and the north of Scotland.
Over the years, TV manufacturers had improved their designs and the quality of their components to get the most out of Hermes' signals. Back in 1967, the picture quality was regarded as excellent - the new system broadcast in higher definition and in colour. However, as people grew used to the system and a wider range of cheaper sets appeared on the market, the number of complaints grew. Tuning and interference were the biggest problems, and the Post Office came in for a great deal of unfair criticism regarding their decision to build a satellite system. In fact, the issues with the signals usually had nothing to do with the satellites. Cheap TV sets with low-grade components often didn't hold the signal lock as well as they should, while the use of poor-quality cabling techniques in flats and shared houses where there was more than one TV per dish often led to users not being able to receive channels at all. Worst of all were the improperly terminated connections - you could find your TV worked perfectly one minute, then it cut out when people in the flat two floors up turned their set on. In the years following the initial launch, these issues were worked on by the Post Office and the set manufacturers, while attempts were made to educate TV installers and the public on the best ways to install a set. By the late ‘70s, most of the common issues were overcome, although that never stopped idiots from getting it wrong, or thinking they knew better than the manufacturers.

Besides the three national broadcasters, there were others looking to expand the choice available to Britain's TV-watching public. Low-power local TV stations had become popular in a few cities in recent years, after licences were issued on the basis of a maximum permissible signal strength. Governments had been studying the option for some time, but it took the threat of a series of "pirate" TV stations to force the matter. Not wishing to repeat the mistakes of the 1960s, when radio broadcasting had been restricted, in 1981 an Act was passed licencing "Regional Television", subject to the restriction that signals could not be received more than 25 miles from a station's single transmitter. Two dozen stations popped up within a year, although by the end of 1983 that was down to three in London, two in Birmingham and a few others scattered across the larger cities.
The concept of commercial satellite broadcasting came up almost simultaneously. To some degree it already existed through ITV and Sat-4 (both "commercial", although nationally-owned broadcasters), but other media organisations believed that there was an appetite for more stations, free of the restrictions of state participation. To meet their requirements, better, cheaper and more numerous broadcast satellites would be needed.
 
Well folks, some of you may be happy to hear that was the last of the primarily retrospective installments.

Hopefully, you can see I've tried to dig myself out of the mess left by the end of Selene, and now the story can build on some of the possibilities.
 
Deploy Umbrella to Re-enter

The launch vehicle described as being "The Future of Spaceflight" is presented to the public at an event at Rainbow Beach on the 14th January 1987.
The development of space launchers has usually been shrouded in secrecy; if they were publicised at all, it would only be outline details and glossy artist’s impressions in an official announcement. Although Atlantic’s new rocket will be built to cover specifications laid down in a USAF contract, this new commercial product is very different; it is launched to the world in a show that is more like a rock concert, a loud stage and screen presentation that has rarely been seen in the industry before. Only the supersonic Boeing 7227 was unveiled with so much glamour and hype.

Both BAC's and MDAC's experience in building missiles and upper stages will be used to create a revolutionary new launch vehicle. Both firms also have close links with spacecraft manufacturers, and the new joint venture will allow them to offer a complete space service solution to customers; from design, to launch, to operations in orbit. The joint venture will enter the market with "Delta Star"; an expendable Black Anvil missile core with a Delta-derived upper stage, however the goal is to swiftly move on to a new vehicle; a launcher designed to cut costs, increase payloads and provide a long-term future for the business.
That rocket will be called Hyperion.

Most of the early spaceflight pioneers believed that the only cost-effective way of launching large masses in to orbit would be with re-usable rockets. Von Braun's Mars plans and the early USAF and Soviet moonbase studies all assumed that hundreds of flights would be needed to assemble vehicles in Earth orbit or on the Moon. In Britain, the Jervis Report is best known for providing some of the impetus that led to the formation of the Selene Project, although in fact it also highlighted the need to reduce the cost of launching payloads into orbit, suggesting the possibilities that might be offered by reusable launch vehicles.
Selene never came close to delivered any such thing - quite the opposite in fact - the Constellation Launch Vehicle was undoubtedly one of the most expensive rockets ever built, its development costs only exceeded by NASA's Saturn III. In the practical world of early spaceflight, the urgent requirements for nuclear missiles (by definition, expendable vehicles) took precedence for development, and all the early space launchers would be based on those designs. In the 1970s, NASA broken that mould and built the Space Shuttle, but even then, the partially-reusable design and a series of other issues meant that it was never cost-effective in its designated role.

A semi-reusable launcher could also have been built based on Black Anvil. Tantalisingly, several such proposals had been made in the late ‘60s, with the ambition varying from multi-core heavy-lift versions, to merely recovering the ring of six booster engines. Numerous experiments had been performed using sub-scale models, and in 1967 there was even an attempt to recover the booster ring during one of the missile's early test flights. However, that attempt had failed and interest had waned as it became clear that there wasn't the time or money to build a reusable rocket. Nonetheless, the tests had left a legacy of valuable data in BAC's and Rolls-Royce's archives on what worked, and equally importantly, on what didn't.

Like the Shuttle, all of those concepts would have been only partly reusable; in case of the early Black Anvil-based concepts, each and every launch would still expend an upper stage. Although they are often quite small and low-powered in comparison to the lower stages of a launcher, these stages are by no means a cheap piece of hardware. In fact, it is usually disproportionately expensive as it carries most of the sophisticated kit needed to make the entire vehicle work. Upper stages are not just a set of fuel tanks and engines, they carry the vehicle's guidance system, power supplies, telemetry equipment, flight computer and often need to be able to control themselves while in space - meaning they need a set of miniature control rockets, engine re-start systems, star trackers and all of the sequencing equipment needed to allow them to fly on their own for several hours and then safely deploy their payloads. All these systems are expensive, and for years engineers have struggled to come up with ways of recovering them. The best known of these is of course, the Space Shuttle, which recovers all of this expensive equipment (e.g. engines and controls) along with all the complex systems needed to support a crew. The Shuttle's designers had compromised in a variety of other ways; it couldn’t go beyond low Earth orbit, and the supposedly cheap "throwaway" tanks and solid rockets boosters had proved to be disappointingly expensive. In the 1980s, the Soviets took a different approach - throwing away the upper stage's engines, but recovering the strap-on boosters and the systems of the Buran orbiter.
For years, designers had struggled to come up with a concept for a more traditional reusable upper stage. The aeroplane-like Shuttle works adequately, but that level of aerodynamic complexity doesn't fit well with the large volumes needed to store rocket fuels and it imposes a heavy mass penalty - mass that is deducted straight out of the deployable payload.

In the early 1980s, BAC engineers thought they had come up with a way to bridge the gap by making the wings work on the way up as well as down. Their HOTOL concept would be fully reusable; a stub-winged vehicle equipped with innovative dual mode air-breathing/rocket engines. Ultimately, this reusable Single Stage to Orbit (SSTO) design proved to be far too ambitious, and the programme effectively ended in 1984 while it was still in the conceptual design stage. At much the same time, NASA tried to solve the same problem with their equally ambitious "Shuttle II" concept (also known as the Hypersonic Space Plane) and were rewarded with a similar lack of success; costs ballooned, and the agency wasted three years and nearly $500M in discovering another way to fail to build a reusable SSTO vehicle.

In fact, like the earlier American Atlas rocket, the basic Black Anvil design could do semi-SSTO (if one allows for the jettison of the booster engines) while carrying a payload; on NASA "Mercury" and Selene "Aurora" flights, the rockets did just that. If a Black Anvil core were fitted with a suitable heatshield and control systems, it might be able to re-enter and be recovered. The problem was that the mass of the heatshield and controls would use up almost all of the available payload mass. Even with the latest Block 4 Orion engines, the payload would only be a ton or so to LEO, not adequate for a viable general purpose satellite launcher.

Putting a useful amount of payload into orbit is doable.
SSTO is doable.
Reusable spacecraft are doable.
Doing all three of those things at the same time is tricky, to borrow Deep Thought's use of the word.

America's, Russia's and Europe's best engineers had failed to find a solution, and in the ensuing embarrassment, everyone had shied away from the "holy grail" of a fully reusable launch vehicle.
Now, BAC and MDAC would try again, but their Hyperion would be a slightly less ambitious "almost fully reusable" launcher. Modern computational models, coupled to the experimental results obtained in the 1960s showed that it would be possible to attempt recovery of a Black Anvil-type booster with a reasonable chance of success, while the Orion rocket engines have a service record that is hard to match.

Hyperion will be a two-stage design. The first stage, loosely based on the missile core of Black Anvil, will lift off much as normal, but won't drop its ring of six booster engines. The jettison system will be removed and the engines will shut down in sequence to keep G-loads under control until the stage's fuel is depleted about 3 1/2 minutes into the flight. After burnout, the second stage will separate and continue on into orbit. Meanwhile, the first stage will deploy an enormous flexible shuttlecock-like “Parashield”, which will allow it to survive the dive back into the atmosphere and slow it down sufficiently to allow a safe splashdown in the sea about 500 miles downrange.

Hyp Reuse.jpg

Early impression of a Hyperion first stage starting its dive back into the atmosphere​

The new upper stage will also be fully recoverable from either low Earth or Geostationary transfer orbits. It will be designed and integrated by MDAC in the US and will use Oxygen-Hydrogen fuel. As with the first stage, the key to recovery would be the novel Parashield concept. With access to far better instrumentation and test data than in the 1960s, the firms have refined their computational and wind-tunnel models to show that their deployable shield design can survive atmospheric entry.
From the outside, the Hyperion Upper Stage (HUS) will look much the same as any traditional rocket stage; a chunky cylinder 260” in diameter, with a single rocket motor sticking out of the base. In 1986, as both the USAF and NASA showed signs of loosing interest in the Space Shuttle and started to move on to developing new launchers, the manufacturers of the Shuttle's J-2R rocket engines were keen to find new markets. The USAF's heavy lift rocket will use a new high-pressure expendable engine, and the other concepts all use either new lightweight motors or solids.
MDAC engineers found that these well-proven engines could be procured on the cheap, and after a series of design compromises it was decided to use a subtly modified version of the engine. With the exception of Orion and the S-3 derived motors used on the Delta rocket, it would be difficult to find an engine in the West with a better pedigree than the J-2. Originally developed for NASA's Saturn rockets, the engine was later adapted into the J-2R, a long-lived reusable motor used successfully on every Shuttle flight to date.
What makes the HUS unique is the structure on top of the LH2 tank. An arrangement of electrically operated struts and ribs will extend from the sides to form a heatshield, allowing the stage to re-enter and land within a few hours of liftoff. The shield will primarily consist of temperature-resistant fabrics held into a broad, curved shape by a series of titanium arms (the "spokes of the umbrella") When deployed, the structure will be over 100' across, giving the now-empty 15 tonne stage a very low ballistic coefficient as it re-enters Earth's atmosphere. Even when entering from an elliptical GTO, the temperatures on the fabric shield will be low enough for it to survive re-entry. As the atmosphere thickens at low altitude, the stage will slow down to about 40 mph - slow enough for small rockets and airbags to cushion the final impact with the surface. Originally proposed in the US in the 1950s, the Parashield concept had never received much serious study until engineers in both Britain and at the University of Florida independently re-discovered it the early ‘80s. Tests using wind tunnels and sounding rockets have since been made in both the UK and USA, with enough success to validate the underlying concept.

HUS pic.jpg

MDAC publicity artwork of an Hyperion Upper Stage re-entering
The Hyperion design is described as "almost fully re-usable", as it still expends a payload fairing and interstage adaptor on each launch. It is thought likely that the flexible heatshield will need to be replaced quite frequently - possibly even after every flight - although the high temperature fabrics will be much easier and cheaper to handle than the delicate tiles used on the NASA Shuttle and the Soviet Buran. Once complete, Hyperion should be able to put about 30t into low Earth Orbit, or inject 9t onto a geostationary transfer trajectory, with all of the most valuable components of the rocket recovered after each flight.

The interim "Delta Star" launchers use surplus missiles fitted with the older Block 3 engines. Hyperion will use the latest Block 4 versions, which were extensively re-engineered under the Cavalier programme to include digital engine control and monitoring systems, higher thrust output and a simplified pre-heater design. Initially the engines used will be spares built for the Cavalier programme, and later there are plans for Rolls-Royce to put them back into production, possibly even as a “Block 5” with further improvements. Most of the existing spares are effectively brand new; they have all been test-fired during the construction and qualification process, and have since spent a few years in either a silo or in storage. When used on a Hyperion first stage booster, each of the seven Orions will need to fire for about 200 seconds. Allowing for static ground tests, an engine with a design life of 3,000 seconds should be able to complete 10-12 missions before it reaches the end of its life.

As the project’s backers and their PR consultants had hoped, it is the last 15 seconds of a series of computer-generated launch graphics that does more to boost the profile of the event than anything else. With a view of the vast Rainbow Beach Launch Station behind them, projector screens show the launch complex as it will appear in a few years' time, with the simulation showing a Hyperion rocket lifting off. Behind the smoke and flame is a shape every rocket scientist and space geek knows only too well. Like an inverted trident, another vehicle waits on its pad.

Under the chunky, conically-topped upper stage sit three identical boosters.
 
Parashield? If that is so practical, why has no one iOTL seriously considered it? Even the various private rockets (Beal Aerospace, Kistler, Roton, SpaceX, BlueOrigin) haven't planned using it. I have to worry about how feasible it is....

Also, while I vaguely remember TTL's Shuttle using J-2s instead of SSMEs, I didn't remember fly back boosters for the Buran - Basically to Zenit what Baikal was supposed to have been to Angara? And did they actually manage reuse iTTL?
 
Parashield? If that is so practical, why has no one iOTL seriously considered it? Even the various private rockets (Beal Aerospace, Kistler, Roton, SpaceX, BlueOrigin) haven't planned using it. I have to worry about how feasible it is....
Can't speak for the author and can't be sure it would work fine, but the last time I read up on it when trying to survey TPS methods it seemed feasible, broadly speaking.

Did you know that one proposal for Man In Space Soonest involved a capsule that would deploy a metal mesh parachute, deployed with the capsule hanging from the middle of the mesh? The idea was that if the mesh area was wide enough and the net weights low enough, the equilibrium heating would be low enough not to soften the metal, most of the drag happening on the mesh would lower the thermal flux on the capsule itself, and acceleration would be survivably low at peak. This is something I looked up at Encyclopedia Astronautica many years ago and having been burned by them on some very simple rocket basics I no longer know how much to trust them, but assuming it isn't a bit of psychosis on someone's part, some mainstream company offered this to the Air Force in 1957...

Here we go! Avco was the company.

I think you'd grant that by the 1980s the selection of materials for some kind of high temperature tolerant fabric had broadened from the 1950s. Kevlar for instance is often proposed as an alternative to asbestos in a number of applications because of its high temperature tolerance.

So as a broad concept it is definitely respectable. It is a bid for the ultra-fluffy end of the specific mass to area spectrum.

As for "hey, no one else ever did it!" well, reflect that what has been tried OTL so far has failed to give us low cost mass to orbit either, and the fact other teams brainstorming around how to do that decided to give this method a pass does not prove it was infeasible, just that they thought some other approach was a better bet. So "no one else tries it" only counts after someone does try it and it fails for reasons others predicted it would. If it fails for a reason no one predicted and no one could reasonably be believed when they say "well, duh, that was so obvious we didn't even bother to say it" then no one is particularly wise. If it works--that just shows how easy it is to overlook a good idea when one has preconceived notions of what would be better.

At the end of the day I suppose human beings are much better at rationalizing than rationality.

Also, while I vaguely remember TTL's Shuttle using J-2s instead of SSMEs, I didn't remember fly back boosters for the Buran - Basically to Zenit what Baikal was supposed to have been to Angara? And did they actually manage reuse iTTL?

They were the plan but not implemented OTL on Energia--Energia used the Zenits (or rather, rockets from which Zenit was later derived) but did not follow through very far on the fly back plan. Initially the plan was that they would parachute to a soft landing and be recovered from the ground, and reused--an excellent plan if you ask me. I think they let it slide to keep things simple on the very few initial launches, and then with the collapse of the Soviet Union, there were no more Energia launches anyway.

e of pi and Polish Eagle talk about it in Right Side Up, where they have the Soviets taking it farther than OTL with parachute recovery for a couple launches, but then giving up on that and just disposing of the Zenits. One or the other comments on OTL and I am mainly paraphrasing them.

Ultimately improved boosters were to have had flyback wings installed for more rapid return--me, I think sticking with the parachute recovery method would have been smart. Assuming of course they could afford any Energia launches at all.

ITTL you'll have to bug sts-200 some more I suppose.
 
Sts-200 wrote:
What makes the HUS unique is the structure on top of the LH2 tank. An arrangement of electrically operated struts and ribs will extend from the sides to form a heatshield, allowing the stage to re-enter and land within a few hours of liftoff. The shield will primarily consist of temperature-resistant fabrics held into a broad, curved shape by a series of titanium arms (the "spokes of the umbrella") When deployed, the structure will be over 100' across, giving the now-empty 15 tonne stage a very low ballistic coefficient as it re-enters Earth's atmosphere. Even when entering from an elliptical GTO, the temperatures on the fabric shield will be low enough for it to survive re-entry. As the atmosphere thickens at low altitude, the stage will slow down to about 40 mph - slow enough for small rockets and airbags to cushion the final impact with the surface. Originally proposed in the US in the 1950s, the Parashield concept had never received much serious study until engineers in both Britain and at the University of Florida independently re-discovered it the early '80s. Tests using wind tunnels and sounding rockets have since been made in both the UK and USA, with enough success to validate the underlying concept.

Ahh! One of my favorite concepts! Refined and redesigned for the 80s and 90s and pitched in the 21st century!
http://spacecraft.ssl.umd.edu/academics/791S12/791S12L10.ParaShield.pdf
http://www.techscience.com/doi/10.3970/fdmp.2012.008.453.pdf

Wonder if Phoenix is going to get suggested TTL?
http://rascal.nianet.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/07/2006-RASC-AL-UMD-Tech-Paper.pdf

Neat concepting to use the TSTO idea too :) Glad it avoids the "can't get the engines wet cause they melt" syndrome so common (and proven false since the early 60s) in recovery planning.

A note on H2O2 "cooling" it actually doesn't do much to 'supercool' it for density purposes BUT "cooling" it to around 5c (41f) prevents it from decomposing at all which is a lot easier to generate than what's needed for LOX. Just an FYI :)

Randy
 
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