Ad Astra: Chapter Six — Enter the Mizuchi
I. A Matter of DesignThe UHS spacecraft, which came to define the DNSA for the last 40 years, finds its origins in the 1960s as a reusable crew and cargo resupply vehicle for orbital space stations. Due to the relative cost of it compared to the rest of the proposal, it was the only part which would actually receive funding. Approved in 1971 as an eventual replacement of the Ryū spacecraft, development would quickly begin. There were many proposals for it, from what we got, the Tenjin-UHS system, to the different, such as Thrust-Augmented Orbital Vehicle (TAOV), to the more insane such as an SSTO and a two-stage-to-orbit vehicle which would've been, at least in theory, usable as a passenger vehicle allowing point-to-point travel across the globe. Initially, the DNSA wanted something resembling two aircraft attached to one another, with the spacecraft hanging off the side while both would be fully reusable. However, when the State Ministry of Defense (SMoD) became involved, due to its desire for a spacecraft with higher cross-range (polar missions would've ultimately meant that otherwise, the spaceplane would land in the sea) and higher cargo capacity, that proposal was dropped and Tenjin-UHS and TAOV became the frontrunners.
The original UHS proposalThe Thrust-Augmented Orbital Vehicle concept, which closely resembled the modern Tytorian Space Shuttle, would've involved the DNSA making use of Liquid Rocket Boosters (LRBs) and firing the UHS's main engines from liftoff. This would've required the development of an entirely new launcher alongside the orbiter, as well as completely new infrastructure to go alongside it. By comparison, the Tenjin-UHS proposal would've only required the development of the external fuel tank and the orbiter, would've allowed the DNSA to maintain, at least on paper, super-heavy lift capability, and would've, at least in terms of the costs for infrastructure, been cheaper. The problem with that design being that the Tenjin first stage was comparatively expensive, although there had long been proposals for reuse of it. Ultimately, the Tenjin-UHS concept won out, with TAOV being tossed aside.
TAOV
With the Tenjin-UHS concept winning out, was given the name
Mizuchi, or Sea Dragon, in a way hearkening back to the older Ryū program that it was replacing. Having been selected, the Mizuchi concept would evolve, featuring two phases, those being an early period where it would launch on simply a refurbishable Tenjin first stage and a second where it would fly aboard a variant of it which would be capable of flying back to the launch site. This decision was made as it was not expected that the flyback booster would be ready at the same time as the shuttle, which would mean that unless they flew on a more simple version of the Tenjin first stage, it would be able to fly until 1986, well after Kyuden, which was deemed a priority target for continued habitation, would've deorbited. And so, the DNSA went on its way, preparing for the first launch nearly a decade ahead.
II. Approach and Landing TestsBy 1972, the design of the Mizuchi-class orbiter had pretty much been worked out, the funding had been granted to actually start building it, and the DNSA got to work. But there was a problem, and a pretty glaring one too: The DNSA hadn't actually built a space
plane before. Sure, they had built a few space
craft, but flying was new to them. Sure, part of their task was aeronautical research
and they had run or participated in numerous studies of exotic aircraft, such as the JT-16, but it remained a fact that the DNSA nor anyone else had ever flown a winged vehicle down from orbit to a runway landing. When it was time for the orbital test flights, planned for 1979, nobody was wanting any surprises when it came to the actual flight characteristics of the orbiter. Enter the Approach and Landing Tests, or "YCT" program (YCT being the acronym for Approach and Landing Test in Onishic languages). Mizuchi, despite being arguably among the most beautiful flying machines to ever take to the air, wasn't noted for flying nearly as well as most. One pilot remarked that it "was like flying a brick with wings", owing to the delta wing being poor at generating lift at low altitudes while being great at higher altitudes. The vehicle's glide-slope angle was 20°, as compared to a modern passenger jet which has a glide-slope angle of around 3°. In effect, it was as though the vehicle was flying straight down. Adding in input lag and a few other unique (for the time) characteristics owing to its delta wing, and it proved to be a difficult bird to fly, and because of that, there was absolutely no margin for failure. Without any engines, there was only one chance to land, and it would only be at 584 meters that the commander would pull back on the control stick, flaring the spacecraft and bringing it in for a gentle landing, for a spacecraft anyways, which is to say about 90 meters per second. Because of this, the DNSA needed a way to test the orbiter, and in a safe, controlled environment closer to home, and for that, it needed an orbiter ahead of schedule:
KS-101US-101 is the official designation of
Shirotsuru. "KS" is an acronym for "Kidō Sharyō", or in English, Orbital Vehicle, while the "101" informs of its intended purpose. As the first number is a 1, that designates it as being intended for orbital spaceflight, while a 0 would mark it as a test article. The "-01" means that it was the first vehicle, owing to the orbiters being one-indexed instead of zero-indexed. Before it could earn its designation as an orbiter, however, it would be put through its paces in a mundus-bound configuration. The plan was to make a vehicle that looked like an orbiter and worked like one, albeit only in the final part of its mission, that being the roughly five minutes before landing when the vehicle would fly around, line up its approach, and land at the runway with precision. This meant, in lieu of actual ET-21 MMEs (Mizuchi Main Engines), wooden replicas would be used alongside ballasts to make up the weight. Instead of heat-resistant tiles, there were basic tiles that simply looked like the real ones. And of course, instead of reinforced carbon-carbon for the nose and leading edges of the wings, fiberglass was used. Though it may not have looked it, however, US-101 was very much a real orbiter, running the latest available software on its computers, used fuel cells to provide power, and had functioning control surfaces and landing gear.
When US-101 rolled out on the 19th of August, 1976, it was the public's first glimpse of at the DNSA's future, and by February 18th of the next year, said future would take to the skies. This initial period of testing would last through February until early March, during which time it first completed three taxi tests, that is to say, rolling it out to the runway aboard its carrier aircraft, then a series of captive flights during which time it would remain uncrewed and inert, concluding on the 6th of March. In May, it would enter its captive-active flight testing, being piloted by two crews. These crews were made of two ūchunauts, the first having Daisuke Abeno and Katsushi Odagiri, the second Satoru Daigo and Eita Fuyuki. And then, finally, it would come time for the White Crane spread its wings and flew on its own.
Shirotsuru performs its first free flight, 12 July, 1977Flown by Crew 1, Shirotsuru soared through the skies over Shiroi Shakyū Air Force Base independent of its carrier plane for the first time on the 12th of July, 1977. Beginning at 9:41 in the morning, local time, the orbiter, spent nearly fifty-four minutes in flight, still mated to the carrier plane as it climbed to an altitude of 7,364 meters before releasing from it at 10:34 AM. Upon separating, it spent another five or so minutes gliding back to the surface, landing at a dry lakebed at 10:39 AM. This flight, YCT-12, alongside YCT-13 and 14, would make use of an aerodynamic tail-cone, which was designed to lower drag aboard the MCA (Mizuchi Carrier Aircraft). The next two flights would lack this, with the final YCT flight, YCT-15, also being the first to land on a runway. With the completion of the Approach and Landing Tests, Shirotsuru would be packed up and delivered first to the Dynamic Structural Test Facility on the mainland, where it was mated to a mockup of the launch configuration and underwent vertical ground vibration tests. Following this, it was delivered back to Tsukishima, this time to Artsiv Space Center, in order to test the procedures of assembling a stack inside the Vehicle Assembly Building (VAB). Once stacked, it would undergo fit-checks before being rolled out to LC-17A for a wet dress rehearsal. Once this was finally complete, the vehicle would be rolled back to the VAB, destacked, and US-101 sent to be inspected and considered for retrofit into a fully operational orbiter.
The Mizuchi spacecraft was ready, at least, for the final five minutes of a flight.
III. The Road to UHS-1For as difficult as the Approach and Landing Tests were, the final landing was among the easiest parts of any UHS mission. An unflyable brick was something that most skilled test pilots could handle, usually. But the rest of the mission was something entirely new. If an orbital UHS mission was to be successfully completed, there were numerous mechanisms, input devices, and subroutines that had to
always perform flawlessly. But more than any other, there were three parts that stood out. One was a challenge that any rocket scientist or engineer was acutely aware of. Another was familiar, but cranked up to eleven, both in regards to its complexity and its central role in the mission. And one was new, exotic territory that the DNSA only hoped they could figure out in time. These were, in that order, the engines, the tiles, and the computers. Compared with some spacecraft, the UHS had a relatively trouble-free development, but that is not to say it was perfect all the way. When work began in 1972, the plan was to fly the first orbital missions sometime in 1979. But since UHS-1 didn't fly until March of 1981, it would be clear to any observer that there were some notable bumps that were encountered on the road. Of course, these were resolved before the orbital flight test, however, a more literal bump occurred when, in 1979, the first orbiter set to fly into orbit,
Tenryū (US-102), lost nearly 5,000 tiles during delivery to Artsiv. As a result, these would have to be reapplied, leading to a delay until 1981, when at long last, the UHS program saw its first flight.
IV. UHS-1, the Greatest Test FlightFinally, on the 16th of March, 1981, the first orbital flight test of the Mizuchi spacecraft was to be performed. While any first flight of a spacecraft is notable, UHS-1 was even mores so, given that, unlike most any others, it flew with its crew aboard. Typically, a new spacecraft would be flown without its crew
at least on its first flight, if not its first two. However, the DNSA ruled, owing to its complexity, that it would be more likely to succeed if it had the crew aboard. Another reason that the vehicle flew with people aboard was because, simply put, the ūchunauts lobbied hard for it. Finally, if it launched without a crew on a test flight, many in the DNSA believed it would only be a matter of time before it would fly an operational mission without one, making the idea of putting crew aboard the vehicle entirely redundant. With the ūchunaut office not liking the precedent it may set, they wanted a crew aboard it from day one. And a final reason, although more speculative, may be that the DNSA wished to compare it to similar winged vehicles. After all, nobody would bat an eye if a fighter jet flew with a crew on its first mission, same with a passenger liner. In many ways, the DNSA wished to frame the Mizuchi less as a limited, experimental run and more as something routine. As such, UHS-1 would have a crew. But if something went wrong, it was only logical to have a backup, so for it and the three other test flights, the crew would have ejection seats, at least so that they could survive if the orbiter couldn't. And if it could survive, then the first stage could be throttled down, the Shuttle could then separate from the first stage, then perform a return to launch site (RTLS) abort. If
that wasn't possible, then a Trans-Oceanic Abort (TAO), Abort Once Around (AOA), or Abort To Orbit (ATO) could be performed as well. Of these, an Abort to Orbit was the most desirable, followed by Abort Once Around, followed by Trans-Oceanic Abort, then finally a Return to Launch Site owing to how absolutely insane it was. In an RTLS abort, the crew would, as previously mentioned, separate from the first stage, after which they would, while the main engines were still running, slowly pitch over, essentially going vertical and then facing completely backwards in order to cancel out their horizontal velocity, allowing them to shut down the engines and ditch the external fuel tank. But given that normally you wouldn't ditch the fuel tank in the atmosphere, the crew would have to be more dynamic. They would have to pitch down, punch the ET SEP button, then pitch back up, essentially throwing the external tank off of them. And to briefly mention it, during all of this ordeal, they would be firing the OMS (Orbital Maneuvering System) in order to try and burn off fuel and lower their landing weight. Once the ET was gone, the crew would glide back to Tsukishima for a nominal landing. There were some tentative proposals to do an RTLS abort as a test, however, Kanji Akasaki, the commander of UHS-1, flat-out refused that option. As he was quoted about how he felt about the maneuver, he called it "Six miracles followed by an act of god." Another quote had a technician asking Akasaki what displays he wanted during an RTLS abort. Akasaki said he "didn't care" since he'd, and I quote, "be covering my eyes and going 'Ahhhhhh!'". One might ask why Akasaki had any say in this matter, which can be answered quite simply. Since his previous flight, back in the 1970s, he had moved up in the ranks, becoming the chief of the ūchunaut office and was commanding UHS-1.
And so, with every option considered, UHS-1 would lift off to much fanfare on the 16th of March, 1981. The spacecraft would spend two days, four hours, and sixteen minutes in flight, landing at Shiroi Shakyū AFB on the 18th. The greatest test flight had come and gone, and the door to the future had opened.
View of Tenryū's Payload Bay, UHS-1
Landing of UHS-1, 18 March, 1981