“Commencing powered descent, stop powered descent…” When the computer did not receive a countermanding order, it began: “Commencing deorbit burn in three, two, one, now.” The Laser Pulse Detonation Rocket System engines, or LPDRS, pronounced “leopards,” activated and went to full power. Burning JP-7 jet fuel and hydrogen peroxide oxidizer with other chemicals and superheated pulses from lasers to increase the specific impulse, the Black Stallion’s four LPDRS engines produced twice as much thrust as all of the engines aboard the space shuttle orbiters combined.
As the spacecraft slowed, it began to descend. Normally at a certain velocity Boomer would shut down the main engines and then turn the spacecraft using its thrusters to a forward-flying nose-high attitude and prepare for “entry interface,” or the first encounter with the atmosphere, and then use aerobraking — scraping the shielded underside against the atmosphere — to slow down for landing. This time, however, Boomer kept it flying tailfirst and the LPDRS engines running at full power.
Most spacecraft could not do this for long because they didn’t carry enough fuel, but the Black Stallion spaceplane was different: because it refueled while on Armstrong Space Station, it had as much fuel as it would have when blasting into orbit, which meant it could keep its engines running for much longer periods during re-entry. Although aerobraking was much more fuel-efficient, it had its own set of hazards — namely, the intense heat of friction that built up on the underside of the spacecraft — so the crew was trying a different re-entry method.
As the Black Stallion slowed even more, the descent angle got steeper, until it seemed as if they were pointed straight up. The flight and engine control computers adjusted power to maintain a steady 3-G deceleration force. “I hate to ask,” Boomer grunted through the G-forces pressing his body back into his seat, “but how are you doing back there, Frenchy? Still optimal?”
“In the green, Captain,” Frenchy responded, forcing her breath through constricted throat muscles in order to keep her abdominal muscles tight, which increased blood pressure in her head. “All systems in the green, station check complete.”
“A very squared-away report, thank you, M. Moulain,” Boomer said. “I’m optimal up here too.”
Passing through Mach 5, or five times the speed of sound, and just before reaching the atmosphere at approximately sixty miles’ altitude, Boomer said, “Ready to initiate payload separation.” His voice was much more serious now because this was a much more critical phase of the mission.
“Roger, payload separation coming up…program initiated,” Moulain responded. The cargo bay doors on top of the Black Stallion’s fuselage opened, and powerful thrusters pushed a BDU-58 container out of the bay. The BDU-58 “Meteor” container was designed to protect up to four thousand pounds of payload as it descended through the atmosphere. Once through the atmosphere the Meteor could glide up to three hundred miles to a landing spot, or release its payload before impacting the ground.
This mission was designed to show that the Black Stallion spaceplanes could quickly and accurately insert a long-duration reconnaissance aircraft anywhere on planet Earth. The Meteor would release a single AQ-11 Night Owl unmanned reconnaissance aircraft about thirty thousand feet altitude near the Iran-Afghanistan border. For the next month, the Night Owl would monitor the area with imaging infrared and millimeter-wave radars for signs of Muslim insurgents crossing the border, or Iranian Revolutionary Guards Corps or al-Quds convoys smuggling in weapons or supplies from neighboring countries.
After the Meteor container was away, Boomer and Frenchy continued their powered descent. The atmosphere made the spaceplane slow down much more quickly, and soon the LPDRS engines were throttling back to maintain the maximum 3-G deceleration. “Hull temperatures well within the green,” Moulain reported. “I sure like these powered descents.”
Boomer fought off the G-forces, reached out, and patted the top of the instrument panel. “Good spaceship, nice spaceship,” he cooed lovingly. “She likes these powered descents too — all that heat on the belly is not nice, is it, sweetie? Did I tell you, Frenchy, that those ‘leopards’ engines were my idea?”
“Only about a million times, Captain.”
“Oh yeah.”
“Air pressure on the surface is up to green…computers are securing the reaction control system,” Moulain reported. “Mission-adaptive control surfaces are in test mode…tests complete, MAW system responding to computer commands.” The MAW, or Mission Adaptive Wing, system was a series of tiny actuators on the fuselage that in essence turned the entire body of the spaceplane into a lift or drag device — computers shaped the skin as needed to maneuver, climb or descend, make the craft slipperier, or slow down quickly. Even flying backward, the MAW system allowed complete control over the spaceplane. With the atmospheric controls active, Boomer took control of the Black Stallion himself, turned so they were flying forward like a normal aircraft, then hand-flew the ship through a series of steep, high angle-of-attack turns to help bleed off more speed while keeping the descent rate and hull temperatures under control.
At the same time, he was maneuvering to get into position for landing. This landing was going to be a bit trickier than most, because their landing spot was in southeast Turkey at a joint Turkey-NATO military base at a city named Batman. Batman Air Base was a Special Operations Joint Task Force base during the 1991 Gulf War, with American Army Special Forces and Air Force pararescue troops running clandestine missions throughout Iraq. It was returned to Turkish civil control after the war. In a bid for greater cooperation and better relations with its fellow Muslim nations in the Middle East, Turkey forbade NATO offensive military operations to be staged from Batman, but America had convinced the Turks to allow reconnaissance and some strike aircraft to fly from Batman to hunt down and destroy insurgents in Iran. It was now one of the most vital forward air bases for American and NATO forces in the Middle East, eastern Europe, and central Asia.
“Passing sixty thousand feet, atmospheric pressure in the green, ready to secure the ‘leopards,’” Moulain said. Boomer chuckled — securing the “leopards” and transitioning to air-breathing turbojet mode was done automatically, as were most operations on the spaceplane, but Moulain always tried to pre-guess when the computer would initiate the procedure. Cute, yes — but she was generally correct, too. Sure enough, the computer notified him that the LPDRS engines were secure. “We’re still in ‘manual’ mode, Captain,” Moulain reminded him. “The system won’t restart the engines automatically.”
“You’re really on top of this stuff, aren’t you, Frenchy?” Boomer quipped.
“That’s my job, Captain.”
“You’re never going to call me ‘Boomer,’ are you?”
“Unlikely, Captain.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing, Frenchy.”
“I’ll survive. Ready for restart.”
Part of her allure was definitely the chase. Maybe she was all businesslike in bed too — but that was going to have to wait for a time when they weren’t seated in tandem. “Unspiking the engines, turbojets coming alive.” They had enough oxygen in the atmosphere now to stop using hydrogen peroxide to burn jet fuel, so Boomer reopened the movable spikes in the engine inlets and initiated the engine start sequence. In moments the turbojets were idling and ready to fly. Their route of flight was taking them over central Europe and Ukraine, and now they were over the Black Sea, heading southeast toward Turkey. Along with keeping hull temperatures low, the powered descent procedures allowed them to descend out of orbit much quicker — they could come down from two hundred miles’ altitude into initial approach position, called the “high gate,” in less than a thousand miles, where a normal aerobraking descent might take almost five thousand miles.