Satellite Salvage Begins: Otter Pup’s Daring Docking Could Rewrite Orbital Economics

A New Kind of Space Rescue Mission

Later this year, a microwave-sized spacecraft will attempt a first-of-its-kind orbital rendezvous that could redefine how we manage aging satellites and space junk. Starfish Space’s Otter Pup 2, a diminutive “space tug,” is scheduled to launch in mid-June aboard a SpaceX Falcon 9 rideshare mission. Once in orbit, it will chase down and dock with another satellite that was never designed to be caught. In a feat akin to latching onto a car that lacks a hitch, the Otter Pup 2 will rendezvous with a D-Orbit ION space tug and attempt to attach itself to a flat side panel of that satellite – no special docking port, no grappling fixture. If successful, this will mark the first-ever commercial satellite docking in low Earth orbit (LEO) with an “unprepared” target.

This dramatic demonstration has captured the attention of both investors and policymakers. Beneath the technical daring lies a profound business proposition: what if satellites need not be stranded by malfunctions or fuel shortages? Otter Pup 2’s mission hints at an era when spacecraft might routinely get mid-life refueling, repairs, or gentle deorbiting assistance. The implications stretch from the boardrooms of satellite insurers – who see possibilities to reduce billion-dollar losses – to the halls of regulators grappling with questions of salvage rights, liability, and orbital debris mitigation. As the space industry awaits this milestone, we explore why this docking attempt is unique, how it’s designed to work, and what it could mean for the economics and governance of orbital operations.

Chasing a Satellite Without a Docking Port

Unlike the dockings we’re familiar with – like capsules linking to the International Space Station via built-in ports – Starfish’s rendezvous is more like catching a free-floating object with no handle. The target D-Orbit ION vehicle has no standard docking mechanism at all. In past satellite servicing tests, targets were often prepared with special fixtures or cooperative devices (for example, some demo missions used magnetic plates or grappling aids on the client satellite). By contrast, Otter Pup 2 will rely on Starfish’s novel “Nautilus” capture mechanism to adhere to any available flat surface on the ION spacecraft. This mechanism uses an electrostatic capture system about the size of an outstretched hand that can stick to a variety of materials – think solar panel faces or metal side walls. Instead of latching onto a nozzle or hooking a ring, the Otter will simply cling to the target using static charge, forming a firm connection without a traditional port.

That approach is a stark departure from earlier achievements in satellite servicing. In 2020, Northrop Grumman’s Mission Extension Vehicle-1 (MEV-1) made headlines for docking with an aging Intelsat-901 satellite in geostationary orbit. But MEV-1 had to insert a probe into the target’s apogee engine nozzle – effectively grappling an existing structural feature – to secure itself. It was a successful rendezvous, yet the Intelsat satellite wasn’t truly “unprepared” in the way Starfish’s target is. In fact, the MEV-1 mission was carefully coordinated, occurring in a graveyard orbit 300 km above GEO to avoid any risk to the active satellite belt. By contrast, Otter Pup 2 will attempt its docking in the busy realm of LEO, opening the door to servicing the countless satellites and debris objects in these lower orbits.

Starfish’s team has put considerable thought into this unorthodox docking method. The electrostatic adhesion technology means that any satellite – even one never intended for rendezvous – could in theory be grabbed so long as it has a surface about a few inches across for the Otter to latch onto. It’s a deliberately universal approach, one the company touts as being able to “interact with any vehicle that’s on orbit today, or … in the future” without customization. If proved out, this could be a game-changer. Aging satellites that were launched decades ago, long before servicing was imagined, might suddenly become accessible for life extension or relocation. And debris objects that are essentially lifeless hunks of metal could potentially be corralled and removed without needing pre-fitted capture aids.

Mission Design: A Slow Dance in Space

The upcoming demonstration is as much about proving precise choreography in orbit as it is about the docking itself. Otter Pup 2 and its target won’t start out side by side – they will be released separately from the Falcon 9 launcher and could drift hundreds or even thousands of kilometers apart before the chase begins. This is intentional. The mission simulates a realistic scenario in which a servicer must hunt down a client spacecraft over long distances in orbit, not just poke at a neighbor deployed from the same pod. Trevor Bennett, Starfish’s co-founder, noted that performing a “long-range rendezvous” is truer to the real services Starfish eventually wants to offer.

In practice, this means that after deployment and initial checkouts, Otter Pup 2 will spend weeks or months gradually matching orbits with the ION satellite. Using small but efficient electric thrusters from the French startup ThrustMe, the Pup will adjust its velocity and altitude in stages. Starfish’s in-house guidance software – whimsically named “Cetacean” (navigation) and “Cephalopod” (guidance & control) – will autonomously compute the maneuvers needed to close the gap. The plan is to methodically reduce the separation: first to on the order of 10 kilometers, then down to 1 km, 100 meters, 10 meters, and finally zero for contact.

Throughout this orbital ballet, ground controllers on Earth will supervise but the spacecraft will execute much of the dance autonomously. In critical close-range phases, communication delays and the need for split-second reactions mean onboard sensors and algorithms take the lead. Otter Pup 2 carries an Argus optical camera system from Redwire Space, giving it “eyes” to recognize the target satellite against the starry backdrop. Its software can then adjust its approach vector and speed to ensure a gentle rendezvous. Think of it as a self-driving car performing a parking maneuver – only the parking spot is moving at 7.5 km/s in orbit. Ground teams will set up checkpoints, likely pausing at 1 km or 100 m hold points to verify everything is nominal, before letting the spacecraft continue closing in. The blend of autonomy and human-in-the-loop control is designed to maximize safety: the Otter’s flight code handles realtime hazard avoidance, while mission control gives “go/no-go” approvals at each stage of approach.

Crucially, Starfish has programmed Otter Pup 2 to be extremely cautious in its final approach trajectories. The spacecraft will creep toward the ION vehicle at walking speeds relative to the target, ensuring that if something goes awry, it won’t smash into it at high velocity. In fact, the approach paths are designed so that if control were lost, the Otter would drift away harmlessly rather than accidentally collide. This level of care addresses a major fear that has loomed over on-orbit servicing: the nightmare of creating new debris. “If something goes wrong, there’s always a perception that this is going to create a huge amount of debris,” Bennett observed in a recent interview. Starfish is determined to prove otherwise – that a slow, deliberate docking can be done without any explosive aftermath, effectively de-risking the concept of routine orbital close encounters.

If all goes well, Otter Pup 2 will make initial contact with the ION tug and stick to it for just a few minutes. This first brief docking is essentially a “hello” – a systems check to confirm the electrostatic grip holds as expected and that the two vehicles can stabilize together. After that, the Otter will back away to a safe distance. The mission plan then allows for potentially multiple subsequent dockings: Starfish might have the Otter re-approach and attach again, this time for longer durations or even attempting to perform small maneuvers while latched to the client. Demonstrating that the servicer can gently push or pull the client satellite – without causing unwanted rotation or losing its grip – would be a major proof of concept for future towing services.

The entire campaign will not be quick. Starfish anticipates it could take several months to complete all test objectives, aiming to finish by the end of 2025. Patience is a virtue in orbital mechanics, and the startup and its partners (which include Astro Digital providing the satellite bus and Honeybee Robotics contributing capture hardware) have a long checklist to satisfy. By mission’s end, they hope to declare that their key technologies are validated in space – paving the way for the first operational Otter servicing vehicles in the next year or two.

Business Case: Life Extension, Salvage and New Revenue Streams

Why are investors and satellite operators so interested in a tiny tugboat like Otter? The answer lies in economics and asset value. Communications satellites, especially in geostationary orbit (GEO), are multimillion-dollar assets that generate enormous revenue – often $100–$200 million per year for a single satellite in service. Traditionally, once these spacecraft run out of fuel or suffer a critical component failure, their operators have little choice but to write them off and launch expensive replacements. That reality has made space insurance a costly but necessary safety net, and it has also meant a sort of planned obsolescence: build a satellite to last 15 years, and accept that year 16 is a cliff.

On-orbit servicing promises to upend that paradigm. If a satellite can be refueled or have a failing part fixed in situ, its productive life could extend significantly – potentially years longer in the case of GEO comsats. For commercial operators, that means squeezing more revenue out of existing capital investments. For example, extending a satellite’s life by even 5 years via servicing might yield hundreds of millions in additional bandwidth sales or TV broadcasts without the ~$300 million expense of building and launching a replacement. It’s no wonder that market analysts project a robust growth in on-orbit services: a recent industry report valued the global on-orbit servicing market at $2.7 billion in 2024, projected to nearly triple to $8 billion by 2034. Early adopters like Intelsat see these services as a way to “self-insure” their fleet in space, using life-extension as a strategy to reduce risk and cost.

Starfish Space has been positioning itself to tap into this emerging market. Even before proving its tech, the Seattle-area startup has secured contracts and partnerships suggesting strong demand. It has won “tens of millions of dollars” in deals to execute servicing missions starting in 2026 for clients including Intelsat, NASA, and the U.S. Space Force. Notably, the U.S. Space Force awarded Starfish a $37.5 million contract in 2024 to dock with a satellite in GEO and provide “augmented maneuver” capabilities – essentially a mission to show that a small tug could attach to a military or government satellite and give it extra mobility or life. That contract is significant not only for its dollar value but because it signals government buy-in. As Bennett put it, agencies that might normally scrutinize a novel technology are instead pulling for it to succeed – they “want to see this happen”. With NASA, Starfish is likely cooperating on orbital debris inspection or removal concepts (NASA has been actively funding technologies for satellite servicing and debris mitigation). And Intelsat, a commercial heavyweight that benefitted from Northrop’s MEV life-extension services on two satellites, appears keen to foster a more competitive, innovative servicing ecosystem – perhaps using Starfish’s smaller, “Otter”-class vehicles for different types of missions or in LEO scenarios.

One particularly intriguing business angle is servicing satellites that were once considered ‘lost causes.’ In the past, if a satellite failed to reach its proper orbit or lost control, insurers would pay the loss and that satellite would effectively become space junk. Famously in 1984, two brand-new communications satellites (Westar-6 and Palapa-B2) ended up stranded in bad orbits – until the Space Shuttle undertook a daring salvage mission to physically retrieve them from space. In that case, insurance underwriters had already paid out $180 million for the loss and thus took ownership of the derelicts; the Shuttle recovery enabled them to recoup about $50 million by refurbishing and reselling the satellites. It was a dramatic one-off event (NASA astronauts manually grabbed the spinning satellites), but it proved that space salvage has real monetary value. Today, a company like Starfish could offer a far cheaper, robotic alternative to shuttle rescues. If a launch underperforms and leaves a client in the wrong orbit, why not send a space tug to nudge it into the right orbit rather than writing off the mission? Insurers and satellite operators are very much aware of this potential. In fact, Intelsat’s willingness to be an early customer for life extension stems from such thinking – better to pay a servicing fee to save a satellite than to file a total loss claim or invest in a replacement.

There is also the burgeoning market for orbital debris cleanup and end-of-life disposal, which has both commercial and regulatory drivers. Companies launching large constellations in LEO (thousands of broadband satellites, for example) face new rules about removing dead satellites within 5 years of mission end. Mission-extension vehicles like Otter could offer a service to deorbit retired satellites safely, sparing operators the expense of building extra propellant margin into every satellite for disposal burns. Starfish explicitly plans such disposal missions for LEO clients. And in GEO, where international guidelines call for retiring satellites to a “graveyard orbit” when they die, a tug could perform that task if the satellite itself is out of fuel or malfunctioning, thus freeing up an orbital slot and reducing collision risk in GEO’s valuable orbital ring.

All these use cases could change the calculus of space insurance and asset valuation. A satellite that might have been given a 1-in-5 chance of failing in its first five years (a risk insurers price into premiums) could be seen as less risky if an on-call servicer is available to fix certain failures. Conversely, satellites could be operated more aggressively (for instance, using fuel with less reserve) if an extension is just a service call away. This transition won’t happen overnight – insurers will need hard data from missions like Otter Pup 2 to adjust their models – but the gears are in motion. As one space insurance executive noted, the ability to “fix a problem in orbit, rather than making a claim for the entire cost of a disabled satellite, will dramatically reduce claims costs”. Fewer catastrophic losses and longer satellite lifetimes could stabilize the notoriously volatile space insurance market, which in recent years saw claims outpacing premiums after a string of satellite failures in 2023–2024. Lower risk could attract new insurers into the field and potentially lower premiums – benefits that in turn make satellite projects more financeable for operators.

Insurance, Liability and the Question of “Salvage” Rights

With new possibilities, however, come new questions: Who pays (and gets paid) when a satellite is serviced? Who is liable if something goes wrong? And can a company just grab a defunct satellite and claim it? These issues straddle insurance policy wording, international law, and regulatory oversight – and they’re exactly the kind of thorny topics investors and policymakers are now confronting as on-orbit services become feasible.

First, consider the insurance angle. Traditional space insurance policies have been written around a paradigm where once a satellite is in orbit, humans won’t touch it again. Policies typically cover launch plus a year of operations, or sometimes long-term in-orbit performance, and they contain salvage clauses similar to maritime insurance. If an insurer pays out a total loss on a satellite, the insurer theoretically assumes ownership of whatever remains of the asset (much like an insurance company taking title to a wrecked ship or car). But those clauses never anticipated that a servicing mission could reverse a loss. In 1984, when underwriters owned the dead Palapa and Westar satellites, they had to convince NASA to mount a rescue mission, paying additionally for it, and then sell the recovered assets to recoup value. Today, if a satellite malfunctioned, an insurer could try to dispatch a company like Starfish to fix or deorbit it – but most existing insurance contracts don’t spell out how such a scenario would work. Who has the authority to approve a servicing attempt – the original owner or the insurers who paid the claim? If multiple insurers share the policy on a satellite (not uncommon in large programs where a consortium of underwriters each take a percentage), getting all of them to agree on funding and risking a rescue mission could be difficult. And if the rescue fails catastrophically (say the servicer collides and destroys the satellite, making things worse), who bears that liability – the servicer’s insurer or the satellite’s insurer?

These ambiguities are starting to be addressed, but not fully resolved. Insurers are actively discussing how to update policy frameworks to incorporate on-orbit servicing. Some forward-looking policies might soon include explicit provisions for paying for a life-extension service instead of paying a loss, if the service can avert a failure. Likewise, we may see insurance covering the servicer’s side of the equation – a policy that covers the “Third-Party Liability” of a servicer in case its activities damage another satellite. (In fact, third-party liability insurance is already mandatory for launch providers, covering damage on the ground or to uninvolved parties in space. Extending that model to on-orbit ops is a logical next step.) The bottom line is that the insurance sector is cautiously enthusiastic: they see on-orbit repair as a way to avoid multi-hundred-million-dollar losses. One insurance analysis group stated that such servicing could “reduce the overall volatility of the [space insurance] market” and attract new capacity, but they also acknowledge plenty of “technological ducks” need to line up in a row first. Missions like Otter Pup 2 are exactly the kind of proof points underwriters want to see before they rewrite the rulebook.

Next, liability and regulatory oversight. By international law – chiefly the Outer Space Treaty of 1967 – any object launched into space remains under the ownership and jurisdiction of the country (and original owner) that launched it, no matter how long it’s been up there. There is no concept of “finders, keepers” in orbit. A defunct satellite is not fair game for salvage without permission from its owner, even if it’s just space junk. Article VIII of the treaty is crystal clear that ownership is not lost by mere abandonment in space. This means that if Starfish (a U.S. company) wanted to pick up a derelict Russian or French satellite, it would need consent at some level from the owner or launching state – otherwise it could be seen as an illegal appropriation or interference. Unlike maritime law, where a shipwreck can indeed be claimed under salvage rights after reasonable efforts to find the owner, space law has no settled doctrine of abandoned property. In fact, legal scholars have debated whether we should treat orbital debris as abandoned property to enable clean-up, but many caution that doing so outright would violate the Outer Space Treaty’s framework. The prevailing view is that even a piece of “space junk” is still the property of whoever put it up there until they explicitly relinquish it (and even then, questions remain about how to formalize that relinquishment).

That said, the international community is inching toward a more pragmatic approach on orbital debris removal, which is closely related to servicing. There’s growing recognition that some defunct objects must be removed for safety, and that will require legal coordination. The U.S. government has started encouraging active debris removal and servicing through various initiatives – for example, NASA’s upcoming ClearSpace-1 mission (with a Swiss partner) will attempt to grab and deorbit an old European rocket adapter, with full permission from the owner. We are likely to see new norms or even agreements where satellite owners can declare old hardware as “okay to remove” if contacted. Policymakers are discussing mechanisms like an international registry of derelict objects that states are willing to let others salvage, or “consent-based” salvage frameworks that mimic aspects of maritime salvage awards but within the boundaries of space treaties.

Liability is another critical piece. Under the 1972 Space Liability Convention, if a space object causes damage, liability is generally assigned to the launching state(s) of that object. For damage in space (as opposed to on Earth), the standard is fault-based – meaning if Satellite A collides with Satellite B, whichever party is at fault (through negligence, etc.) should bear liability. Now imagine a servicing scenario: Otter Pup 2 belongs to the USA (launched by the USA) and it’s servicing an Italian-registered satellite (the D-Orbit ION). If something goes awry and causes damage to a third-party satellite, the liability could be complicated. The U.S. (as Starfish’s launching state) might be on the hook to other nations if Starfish’s vehicle is found at fault. This is why the U.S. government, in authorizing missions like Starfish’s, will pay close attention to safety and require the company to have insurance or other recourse for third-party claims. Indeed, part of getting an FAA launch license or FCC satellite license is demonstrating compliance with orbital debris mitigation and avoiding harmful interference. U.S. regulators (FAA, FCC, and NOAA, each in their domain) have been working to update licensing frameworks to cover on-orbit servicing – a task easier said than done, given that historically no agency had explicit statutory authority over in-orbit dockings of privately-owned satellites. Currently, missions like Starfish’s are proceeding with a patchwork of approvals (FCC for communications use and orbital debris plan, perhaps NOAA if any Earth imaging is incidental, and heavy involvement of the U.S. Space Force as a partner providing oversight). Encouragingly for Starfish, Bennett has noted that having the Space Force and NASA in the loop has “smoothed over” any regulatory wrinkles – agencies are not throwing up roadblocks but rather helping the mission to go forward.

Still, the broader regulatory regime for on-orbit activities remains a work in progress. Internationally, there are calls for clearer “rules of the road” for rendezvous and proximity operations. Industry groups like the Consortium for Execution of Rendezvous and Servicing (CONFERS) have developed best practice guidelines – e.g., advising servicers to approach only with prior consent, to maintain active communication with owners, and to incorporate safety holds and abort protocols. Such guidelines are voluntary but are shaping norm-setting discussions at the UN and other fora. For instance, under Article IX of the Outer Space Treaty, there’s an obligation to avoid “harmful interference” with other nations’ space activities. A servicing mission could potentially be seen as interference if done unilaterally. In the future, we may see requirements to notify or consult with other countries before performing certain close maneuvers in orbit – especially in GEO orbits where satellites from many nations co-reside in tightly managed slots.

From an insurance perspective, liability concerns feed back into pricing: insurers will want clarity on who is responsible for what. If Starfish docks with a paying client’s satellite and accidentally damages it, does the client hold Starfish liable under contract? Likely yes, via service agreements (and Starfish would then need its own liability coverage). What if the client satellite causes damage to the servicer? These are new risk scenarios underwriters must contemplate. The ROOM Space Journal, reflecting an insurer’s viewpoint, summed it up: “Questions such as which insurers could approve a servicing mission, who should pay, who should benefit, and who should bear the risk of failure and liability will need to be addressed” for on-orbit servicing to scale. The industry’s consensus is that these challenges, while real, are “too important to ignore” – solvable with the right collaboration between satellite owners, servicers, insurers, and regulators. The potential upside (repairing malfunctioning satellites, removing debris, and even assembling new structures in orbit) is driving creative solutions to indemnity and legal hurdles, rather than stalling the effort.

Beyond the Demo: Transforming Satellite Operations in LEO and GEO

If Starfish Space’s demonstration succeeds, it won’t just notch a win for one startup – it could mark a tipping point for the broader space ecosystem. We’re on the cusp of a paradigm shift from “use-and-discard” satellite missions to a more sustainable “maintain, upgrade, and recycle” approach in orbit. Nowhere will this be more evident than in geostationary orbit, the high-altitude ring where dozens of expensive satellites deliver global communications. In GEO, life extension is the name of the game. Northrop Grumman’s MEV program already proved the demand is there by giving new life to two Intelsat satellites in 2020 and 2021. Starfish’s future Otter vehicles are aiming to serve the same market but with smaller, more agile tugs. They envision fleets of Otters that can rendezvous with aging GEO birds, dock on the fly (even without taking them out of service), and impart years of additional operations – or safely push them to graveyard orbits when they’re truly finished. Intelsat has publicly committed to having at least four satellites serviced by 2027, and that number could grow if costs come down through competition. For satellite operators, regular servicing could become just another line item in the budget – a sort of orbital maintenance contract – much cheaper than building new satellites and launching them. We might even see satellite leasing models evolve, where a company can lease extra fuel or attitude control via a servicer, or insurers offering discounts if an operator has a servicer on retainer.

In low Earth orbit, the implications are slightly different but equally profound. LEO is becoming crowded with satellites large and small, from imaging spacecraft to mega-constellations for broadband. Servicing in LEO will likely focus on debris mitigation and specialized repairs. Imagine a scenario where a $200 million Earth observation satellite experiences a deployment malfunction on a solar array. Instead of giving up, the operator could dispatch a servicing drone to tug or re-deploy the stuck array – salvaging the mission. Or consider the tens of thousands of small satellites in constellations: if even a small percentage fail prematurely, that’s a lot of debris and lost capacity. A service like Otter could be hired to deorbit dead satellites or even ferry them to a repair hub (one day, we might see in-orbit repair depots or service stations). Companies like Astroscale are already working on magnetic capture of defunct LEO satellites, though their approach often requires pre-installed docking plates. Starfish’s adhesive capture could potentially offer a more flexible solution for diverse clients. There’s also interest from the national security side: the U.S. Department of Defense worries about adversaries’ satellites as well as its own. Having the ability to inspect a suspicious object up-close, or to quickly remove a broken spy satellite from orbit to prevent others from grabbing it, could be strategically important. Notably, Starfish’s contracts with the U.S. Space Force include an “inspection of orbital debris” mission, hinting that the military wants to use servicing tech for space situational awareness (SSA) or cleanup of dangerous debris.

For policymakers concerned with space sustainability, these developments are largely welcome. An orbital servicing industry aligns with calls to reduce space debris and extend the useful life of satellites, thereby getting more value out of each launch and reducing waste. However, it also raises the urgency for space traffic management (STM) protocols. When multiple servicers and maybe dozens of client-servicer rendezvous are happening each year, clear communication and tracking will be essential. The last thing anyone wants is a servicing mission to be mistaken for an antisatellite attack, or to inadvertently cause a chain-reaction collision. Efforts are underway – including at the U.N. Committee on Peaceful Uses of Outer Space (COPUOS) and by groups like CONFERS – to establish “rules of the road” for these close-proximity operations. These might include requiring servicers to incorporate active tracking transponders, share their trajectory plans with civilian and military tracking networks, and abide by safety zones around uninvolved satellites. In the coming years, regulators might also decide whether to make on-orbit servicing a licensed activity (just as launching is licensed). The U.S. Congress has debated giving the Department of Commerce authority to oversee “non-traditional” space activities like asteroid mining and orbital servicing – essentially to ensure Article VI of the Outer Space Treaty (which requires nations to supervise the space acts of their citizens) is properly fulfilled. So far, missions like Otter Pup 2 have proceeded under experimental or one-off approvals, but a more permanent regime is likely as the practice becomes routine.

From a financial perspective, the success of Otter Pup 2 could spur a new wave of investment in space infrastructure services. Venture capital has already warmed to the idea – Starfish Space itself has raised over $50 million in funding to date, and it’s just one of several startups in this domain. Should the demonstration prove successful, Starfish will move immediately to build its first full-fledged Otter servicing vehicles (larger than the “Pup” demo, but still far smaller and cheaper than a conventional satellite) to start fulfilling those 2026 contracts. This could put pressure on more established players like Northrop Grumman’s SpaceLogistics to accelerate their offerings (Northrop is developing Mission Robotic Vehicles and Mission Extension Pods to service multiple satellites in GEO). We may also see completely new business models – for instance, companies offering “rescue insurance” where if your satellite goes awry, the insurer hires a servicer to save it rather than paying out a loss.

Conclusion: A Turning Point for the Orbital Economy

As Starfish Space’s Otter Pup 2 floats nearer to its quarry in the coming months, it carries with it not just the hopes of a startup team in Tukwila, Washington, but also a symbolic weight for the space industry at large. This little spacecraft represents a shift in thinking: that space isn’t a place where our machines must be flawless or forsaken. We can maintain them, assist them, and even give them second lives. In a conversational yet bold way, Otter Pup 2’s mission is asking the industry to rethink risk and reward. Could a $10 million servicing craft save $100 million satellites? Could cleaning up orbital junk become profitable, not just a sunk cost for public agencies? Could insurance premiums drop and coverage expand once we know we can fix satellites on the fly?

The upcoming demonstration will provide some hard data to inform those questions. It will show whether Starfish’s software-centric, small-scale approach can truly “close the business case” for satellite servicing as the founders claim. A successful docking – gentle, safe, and fully under control – would be a proof of concept that interaction in orbit can be routine and not a white-knuckle rarity. It would also give regulators confidence that commercial players can perform such feats responsibly, within the bounds of law and without generating Kessler Syndrome debris fields. Conversely, if the mission runs into trouble, it will offer invaluable lessons and perhaps a dose of caution to temper the hype. Even a partial success (say, rendezvous achieved but docking not latched) would teach engineers and policymakers what to focus on next – be it improving capture mechanisms or refining international coordination protocols.

In an editorial in 2025, it’s tempting to declare we’re entering a new era of orbital infrastructure, analogous to when steamships first patrolled coastlines to aid stranded vessels. The truth is, that era is being born now, one mission at a time. Starfish’s Otter Pup 2 is one of a handful of pioneering missions feeling out the practical and procedural challenges of this new frontier. Its uniqueness – docking with a satellite that didn’t ask to be docked with – is precisely why it’s so important. In the long run, a successful mission could lead to a future where satellites are no longer alone and expendable once launched, but part of a connected network of services and support. Investors are watching because that network hints at profitable new sectors (from orbital logistics to space debris recycling). Policymakers are watching because it requires updating the rules for a more complex space environment. And the rest of us can watch in awe (and relief) as the era of “lost” satellites and one-and-done missions gives way to an era of orbital CPR – where with a little help, satellites can keep on ticking, to the benefit of business and the environment alike.