Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandoms:
Relationships:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Series:
Part 43 of *SolarBalls (2022)* Crossover Multiverse
Stats:
Published:
2025-11-08
Words:
1,380
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
18
Kudos:
19
Bookmarks:
1
Hits:
238

Orbital Realism

Summary:

The Sun forces all Solar System objects to follow their realistic orbital parameters.

[SET AFTER “The Solar System’s True Scale (Part 1)” in an ALTERNATE REALITY!]

Notes:

I just learned that the Planet Y hypothesis was proposed a few months ago, predicting an icy terrestrial planet between the size of Mercury and Earth that’s located at 100-200 AU. 🌎🌍🌏🪐

Anyway, hope you all enjoy! 😁

[[ALL CANON DIALOGUES & SCENES BELONG to the WRITERS & CREATORS of *SolarBalls (2022)*!!]]

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

ALTERNATE *SOLARBALLS (2022)* UNIVERSE 798ROTATIONORBIT897

MONDAY, 23 APRIL 2007AZ:

Due to the Sun’s ultra-tyrannical rules, Earth could barely move or turn around like he used to in the past. Now his synodic rotation was exactly 24 hours while his sidereal rotation was approximately 23 hours, 56 minutes, and 4.1 seconds thanks to his slow equatorial rotational speed of 0.465 kilometers per second.

Well if you thought Earth’s situation was bad, imagine being Mercury or Venus. Their rotational speeds were significantly slower in comparison—0.003 and 0.001 km/s respectively. That meant each of their sidereal rotations were 58.646 days and 243.023 days. And yes, all measurements were in Earth-based units.

Since Mercury’s the closest planet to the Sun, tidal forces were much stronger, thus causing a 3:2 spin-orbit resonance. That’s why his synodic rotation was nearly twice as long—about 176 days. Also, Laranda removed most of Mercury’s surface layers post-collision while Caloris created a large basin after impact, hence his slowed rotation.

Yet Venus’ dilemma was worse. Unlike Mercury and Earth, he didn’t have the luxury of having a right-side-up axial tilt (0.034° and 23.439° respectively). He was tilted 177.36° to his own orbit thanks to his own impactors (Cytherea and Cypress). Although there was no upside-down in outer space, everyone else would look that way to him (and vice-versa).

But that’s not all, folks. Venus had a retrograde spin, therefore rotating clockwise around its axis. His sidereal rotation was longer than his orbit (224.701 days), despite being the opposite for his synodic parameters (116.75-day rotation and 583.92-day orbit). Oh how he missed Neith, yet now he had to face the Sun alone…for a very long time.

Let’s move onto Mars, shall we? His sidereal and synodic rotations were 24.623 and 24.66 hours respectively, therefore mirroring Earth’s somewhat. And Mars’ rotational speed was 0.241 km/s, a bit slower than his inner neighbour. So at least Earth knew he wasn’t alone in his suffering (Mars’ axial tilt = 25.19°).

Now that the Inner Solar System’s order was established, Sol fixed his gaze on the Outer Solar System—beyond the Asteroid Belt.

“Oh Jupiter?” he sang.

The gas giant gulped softly and turned 180 degrees. “Yes, Sun?”

“Tell me—what’s your sidereal orbit and rotation?” Helios prodded.

Zeus held his breath. “Uh…11.862 years a-and 9.925 hours.”

“What about your axial tilt?”

“3.13 degrees.”

“And your synodic orbit plus rotation?”

“Um…398.88 days and 9.926 hours.”

The Sun narrowed his eyes. “So how fast should you be rotating right now?”

“T-Twelve…12.6 kilometers per second,” Jupiter stammered.

“Which means you cannot turn your head whenever you want. So pick a direction and start rotating accordingly!” Sol ordered harshly.

The gas giant swallowed thickly. “Y-Yes sir!”

He decided to face his ringed neighbour for now, hoping it would soothe his nerves. Too bad it didn’t.

“Saturn—your sidereal orbit and rotation are 29.448 years and 10.656 hours, while your synodic orbit and rotation are 378.09 days and 10.543 hours. So that translates to a rotational speed of 9.87 km/s. You can choose where you want to look first, but then you instantly follow these rules. Am I clear?” the Sun clarified sternly.

“Y-Yes, of course!” Cronus stuttered, obeying his orders while remembering to tilt 26.73°.

About 19.191 astronomical units away from the yellow dwarf, Uranus was busy painting his moons while they modelled for him. Ever since they truly made amends, this was one of their bonding activities.

“Alright Oberon, I’m almost done with yours. Just let me add the finishing touches and…voila! Done,” he beamed.

“C-Can I see?” the grey spherical moon asked.

Caelus smiled at him. “Sure mate! Give me one second — ”

“URANUS!” Sol bellowed.

“Aah! Fuck!” the ice giant exclaimed as he lost grip of the paintbrush, accidentally applying unwanted silver ink on Oberon’s portrait.

“Oops…sorry Obi,” he winced. “Guess I’ll have to start over.”

“Oh, th-that’s okay,” said the satellite.

“How ‘bout tomorrow?” Titania suggested, yawning softly. “For now, let’s get some shut-eye.”

“Good idea,” her planet agreed. “Anyway, you guys go ahead. The Sun called my name, so I’ll have to go there and find out what he wants.”

Umbriel narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “I thought he told us to stay in our orbits. Now he wants you to leave again?” she signed.

“Better do what he says, otherwise he’ll go crazy again,” Uranus reminded her.

After they left, he started to move forward until the Sun said, “Nuh uh! Stay where you are!”

“Um…okay? Sure,” Caelus frowned in confusion as he returned to his original spot.

“Now—which side do you wanna start with?” the bright ball of plasma questioned.

Uranus blinked twice. “Huh?”

“Which direction do you wanna face first?” Helios emphasized.

“Uh…my moons?”

“Which ones?”

The ice giant stared at him like a deer in the headlights. “Which ones?? What d’you mean?”

“Answer the question!” the Sun demanded impatiently.

“Um…all of them, obviously?” Uranus replied, still confused.

Sol glared at him. “Don’t back-sass me!”

Caelus stumbled backwards. “I-I didn’t—! B-But you asked me to — ”

“Ah bup bup! My turn.” The yellow dwarf straightened his posture. “Since you clearly can’t decide for yourself, I will. You’ll start by facing me first and then turn clockwise so it equates to a 17.248-hour sidereal rotation, which is 17.245 synodic hours!”

“I…w-what?”

“But before you do that, you will tilt 97.77°—according to the right-hand rule.”

Uranus suddenly felt his gravity adjust to these parameters. “W-Wait, hold on! This isn’t fair! You can’t just — ”

“Oh, but I can. It’s what you wanted, right? So I’m doing just that!” Sol gritted out. “Now start rotating! Make sure it’s 2.59 km/s at your equator or else!”

The ice giant’s entire body shuddered in pain. “Sun, please! I-It hurts!”

“Oh well—you’ll just have to get used to it,” he replied nonchalantly before turning away.

Then Sol pivoted 30 degrees and spotted Neptune happily chatting with his moons. Too bad that feeling wouldn’t last as he physically forced the ocean blue giant to follow his realistic orbital parameters—a 28.32° axial tilt, 16.11-hour sidereal rotation, and a 16.111-hour synodic rotation. Poseidon didn’t retaliate in order to protect his satellite system.

TUESDAY, 24 APRIL 2007AZ:

Fifteen hours later, the Sun introduced a strict mandate on all remaining Solar System celestial objects to follow their scientific orbits and rotations. If they disobeyed his rules, there would be dire consequences such as solitary confinement in the Oort Cloud, frequent solar flares, and severe asteroid bombardment. Everyone knew this was straight-up abuse, but Sol didn’t view it that way.

All spherical satellites and regular non-spherical moons became tidally locked to their host planets, therefore always facing them. Prograde irregular satellites had to match their planets’ rotational direction, whereas it was the opposite for retrograde irregular moons. And planets plus closer dwarf planets had to follow their realistic orbital paths at relative speeds.

Some moons (like Neso and S/2021 N1) were so far away from their planet that they’d appear as an extremely bright star in the sky. This is what Neptune truly feared—his satellites experiencing the same abundant loneliness he once did for millions of years. Hell, both moons’ apoapses were bigger than Mercury’s aphelion!

Unfortunately, the Sun’s decision was set in stone, thus all hope seemed lost. Yet one certain Venus-sized icy terrestrial 150 astronomical units away (Planet Y a.k.a. Elysia) refused to give in. Luckily Sol barely paid attention to anyone with a semi-major axis over 100 AU, so she was at an advantage.

Planet Y immediately proceeded with her plan. First, she whipped out her mobile device and texted her Sednoid siblings, instructing them to gather as many allies as possible from the ETNO (extreme trans-Neptunian object) group. Then she contacted a nearby triple-star system (Alpha Centauri), begging them to aid their confrontation.

Deep down, Elysia knew this wasn’t gonna be a piece of cake, as there was a lot at stake and many obstacles ahead. But hey—it was a start.

Notes:

👀

[[ALL CANON DIALOGUES & SCENES BELONG to the WRITERS & CREATORS of *SolarBalls (2022)*!!]]