A planned flagship spacecraft to Uranus was aiming to use Jupiter for a gravitational boost to shorten its journey to the outer solar system. Now that the mission’s launch date has been pushed back, it’ll need to find another way to its target.

Redesigning the Route

Uranus and Neptune, the ice giants of our solar system, have been comparatively neglected by humanity’s fleet of interplanetary probes. While all of the other major bodies have been visited by at least an orbiter or even a lander, the most detailed exploration we’ve done of these two planets happened when the Voyager 2 spacecraft went screaming past on its way toward interstellar space.

So it was no surprise when a panel of scientists and engineers charged with setting scientific exploration priorities between 2023 and 2032 recommended finally sending a spacecraft to Uranus, depositing it into orbit around the planet, and keeping it there for a while to collect data. The study itself suggested a basic design for the mission: a pair of spacecraft, one orbiter and one sacrificial atmospheric probe, collectively weighing about 4,000 kg.

Getting these spacecraft to their destination will be a challenge The thriftiest path to get to Uranus, a trajectory called a Hohmann transfer that’s been used for other missions aimed elsewhere in the solar system, would take 16–17 years. Rather than accept the long wait, the original authors suggested that the mission instead fly toward Jupiter, using the giant planet’s massive gravitational tug to slingshot the spacecraft toward Uranus.

However, this plan relied on Jupiter being in just the right place when the spacecraft approached. This in turn relied on the mission launching sometime in 2031 or 2032: any earlier or later, the slingshot would be aimed in the wrong direction. Now that timelines and budgets have slipped for this flagship mission, hitting this launch window seems unlikely. And, without the boost from Jupiter, the mission will have to cross 20 au of open interplanetary space on its own.

Solar Electric Propulsion to the Rescue

Recently, a team led by Amy Simon, NASA Goddard Space Flight Center, took on this challenge and tried to chart a new path through the solar system. The team realized that solar electric propulsion (SEP), a technique that relies on using solar panels to create electricity and accelerate ions to create thrust, might offer a path forward. By using SEP, the mission could leave Earth, unfurl wings of solar panels, then gradually accelerate for as long as there was enough sunlight to power the engine.

The power levels would likely get too low just a few astronomical units into their journey, but that would be enough: after discarding the SEP stage, the mission could coast to Uranus on a journey that would take only 13 years. Even better, this technology has a proven flight history and would require little maturation or development. The BepiColombo mission to Mercury is currently using SEP, and similar techniques are used on satellites in Earth orbit today.

Simon and collaborators also took on a number of other challenges that have cropped up since the mission was proposed, including fewer available plutonium power sources and a re-assessment of Uranus’s rings that revealed hazards in the original flight path. Their work brings the mission closer to the launch pad and illustrates how much iteration goes into the spacecraft that finally takes to the stars.

Citation

“Uranus Orbiter and Probe: Mission Challenges and Concept Updates Since the Origins, Worlds, and Life Decadal Survey,” Amy A. Simon et al 2026 Planet Sci. J. 7 143. doi:10.3847/PSJ/ae680c

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Astronomers have been measuring comets for centuries. But in December of last year, researchers collected a unique set of comet observations: they recorded some of the highest-quality data of one of the weirdest known comets while it was far from the Sun.

Simultaneous Spectra and Images

A few months after the famous interstellar comet 3I/ATLAS rounded the Sun and began its journey back into the space between the stars, a group of astronomers led by Nathan Roth (NASA Goddard Space Flight Center) aimed JWST in the direction of its retreat to watch it fade away. Using a special observing mode that leveraged the Integral Field Unit (IFU) in JWST’s Near Infrared Spectrometer, these observations didn’t result in just a single image of the comet, but a full stack of images, each corresponding to a different wavelength of light.

Using the IFU allowed the observers to combine the best of both regular imaging, which reveals spatial structure, and standard spectroscopy, which reveals wavelength dependencies. As a result, they could make spatially resolved maps of how the emission from the comet’s fuzzy atmosphere of gas and dust, or coma, changed with distance from the comet’s icy nucleus and angle to the Sun. Since different molecules radiate at different wavelengths, these maps in turn reveal the composition and geometry of 3I/ATLAS’s coma.

Mapping the Coma

These maps, and the spectrum created by summing all of the spatial pixels together, reveal the comet’s coma in gorgeous detail, including hundreds of individual spectral lines that can be attributed to specific molecules. These maps revealed two unique features.

First, in contrast with normal solar system comets where water is the most abundant molecule, water was actually a secondary player here: there was significantly more carbon monoxide, or CO, than water in 3I/ATLAS’s coma. The researchers note that this might not be representative of the true distribution of the two species, but instead be the result of the timing of these observations. When observing a standard solar system comet, astronomers usually examine their targets when the object in question is within 2 au of the Sun. At these close distances, solar radiation is strong enough that water ice dominates the outgassing and activity in a coma.

However, these IFU measurements were taken when 3I/ATLAS was about 2.4 au from the Sun, or right in the transition region where water doesn’t sublimate as easily as CO or carbon dioxide (CO₂). It’s likely that as the comet approaches the so-called “ice line” where water will naturally freeze out, CO will only increase its domination of the coma.

Every Molecule for Itself

Second, each molecule seemed to be outgassing in its own unique direction from the coma. CO is leaving the nucleus in two different jets, one aimed directly back at the Sun and one perpendicular to it; CO₂ and methane (CH₄) are both leaking away in the anti-Sun direction; and water and methanol (CH₃OH) are sublimating in nearly spherically symmetric shells. The authors speculate that these geometries may be caused by different “active sites” on the comet, and that had they observed the comet for one full rotational period, they might have seen these jets pointing in different directions.

Although 3I/ATLAS is now too far and faint for observations like these, this study reveals just how much we can learn in the brief time interstellar visitors spend in our solar system. When the fourth interstellar comet inevitably wanders through the inner solar system, astronomers will doubtless be ready to use this observing mode again.

Citation

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