saturn

In the stellar family of the Phoenix galaxy, there are five old globular clusters, and the sixth child was long considered a foundling. The object Fornax 6, located just 270 parsecs from the galaxy's center, looked like a random clump of field stars or a compact group of distant galaxies. Astronomers argued over whether it deserved to be called a cluster.

On a sunny street, there's a house with a big family: a giant father who always sits by the window and a small child running around the yard. That's the TOI-4468 system: a gas giant hot Jupiter hugs the star, while a bit farther out circles a sub-Neptune — a planet smaller than Neptune but larger than Earth.

Forget the familiar images of planetary cores — a sharp boundary between rock and gas is a thing of the past. The Juno probe, diving into Jupiter’s gravitational field, and Cassini, into the embrace of Saturn, discovered that heavy elements are not gathered at the center but smeared over a vast region, as if someone carelessly shook a cocktail.

For years, the Sun teased astrophysicists. In its atmosphere, refractory elements, like spices in a basic recipe, were slightly less abundant than in nearly identical twin stars. Suspicion arose: could our star be modest, skipping the planetary "dessert" that others devour with gusto?

Using James Webb, astronomers 'fished out' a third giant planet from the murky dust disk of the star β Pictoris. Two others were already known, but this one was hiding in the bright light, like a fish in muddy water.

Previously, Uranus and Neptune were considered ice giants because of assumed thick layers of frozen water, methane, and ammonia. New calculations paint a different picture: deep inside them hides an ocean of hot magma, which under immense pressure has absorbed a colossal amount of hydrogen.

For 23 years, Hubble and James Webb have peered into the heart of Omega Centauri, a globular cluster where millions of stars crowd into a space just 150 light-years across. In this stellar beehive, the motion of the stars betrayed an invisible partner: a main-sequence star (one that has not yet left the main evolutionary branch) seemed to be tugged in a dance with an unseen weight.

In the catalogs of exoplanets, there are many worlds with sizes between Earth and Neptune. They are divided into two groups: rocky super-Earths and gaseous mini-Neptunes. The Solar System has none of these, and scientists debate where they come from. The authors of the study looked into each planet's 'passport'—its orbit.

Among the hundreds of moons in the Solar System, Nereid dances the most desperate dance: diving toward Neptune as close as 1.4 million kilometers, then soaring away to 9.7 million — all within less than an Earth year. An eccentricity of 0.75 — the brand of a captured wanderer.

At the edge of the solar system, where the Sun is barely brighter than other stars, icy boulders, trans-Neptunian objects, circle around. Their orbits resemble hoops scattered by someone. But look closer: twelve of these hoops are not just floating in the void.

Using the JWST space telescope, astronomers conducted a chemical analysis of the centaur Chiron, an icy body from the fringes of the Solar System. It turns out its gas activity resembles a layered cake. Carbon dioxide evaporates from the surface, forming a top crust.

A planet's magnetic field is like an invisible shield: it catches charged particles from the solar wind and stretches out behind the planet into a long tail, like a fluttering scarf.

At the edge of the solar system, far beyond Neptune, hundreds of icy chunks circle the Sun. Some of them move as if an invisible hand had aligned their orbits like compass needles. Ten years ago, this led astronomers to suspect that a massive planet, about ten times heavier than Earth, is hiding there.

At the edge of the solar system, far beyond Neptune's orbit, something is knocking icy chunks off their paths. Their orbits are stretched and tilted in the same way, as if an invisible hand arranged them in a pattern.

A guitar string only sounds at certain notes, when pressed at the frets. So it is with the gas-dust disk around a young star: it's shot through with standing waves, but only chosen oscillations survive. Where the wave crests, cosmic dust and hydrogen collect, and later exoplanets are born.

Every 1151 years, seven planets of the Solar System, from Mercury to Neptune, find themselves at almost the same points in their orbits. Their positions scatter by less than a degree, as if the celestial mechanism is wound to the same tune. This rhythm was discovered by comparing planetary positions over 2600 years using precise tables of celestial motion.

Around distant icy bodies the size of a city, circling beyond Neptune, rings of dust and ice have been found. Small moons often whirl nearby. Mathematical analysis shows that a moon's gravity rocks the ring like a swing, making it tilt.

A thundercloud stores electricity like a battery before a flash. It can discharge in two ways: by lightning or by producing particles with a tiny charge: these are called millicharged particles. Such particles are nearly invisible to detectors, but their trace can be caught by how often lightning strikes. The authors compared thunderstorms on different planets in the Solar System.

When a planet passes in front of its star, some starlight filters through its atmosphere. Gases in the atmosphere block certain colors and let others through, like the colored glass of a stained-glass window. By seeing which colors are dimmed, you can figure out what the air of a distant world is made of.

NASA's TESS space telescope monitors thousands of stars, catching the moment when a planet crosses its star's disk — the star's light dims slightly. That's how astronomers spotted two planets orbiting stars similar to our Sun. One, TOI-883 b, completes an orbit in ten days; the other, TOI-899 b, takes nearly thirteen.

In the dense core of the globular cluster NGC 6397, where stars jostle like commuters at rush hour, astronomers have spotted a peculiar pair. One star is a white dwarf with a surface temperature of 16,000 K, the scorched remnant of a star that has been cooling for billions of years, and circling it is an unseen companion.

Saturn's system 300 million years ago resembled a crowded dance floor. The most massive moon, Titan, began to migrate, and this movement threw its neighbors off balance. One moon crashed into Titan; the debris swirled into a vortex, gathering into Hyperion.

350 light-years away, four planets orbit the star V1298 Tau. They are 5–10 times larger than Earth but lighter than they appear. For nine years, astronomers tracked their motion to understand what they are made of and how they lived in the past. The planets are lined up in a chain: their orbital periods are nearly in 3:2, 2:1, and 3:1 ratios.

Titan, discovered by Christiaan Huygens in 1655, resembles a canvas that is constantly being repainted. Impacts from cosmic dust and asteroids leave crater marks on it. But an invisible artist, the moon's own forces, time and again covers everything with a fresh layer, erasing old strokes.

Using the Keck telescope and spectroscopy (light analysis that reveals rotation speed), astronomers measured 32 objects: from giant planets to brown dwarfs — bodies heavier than planets but lighter than stars that never ignited.

The night sky looks like a scattering of identical sparks. But hidden among them are true giants — red supergiants. These stars are hundreds of times wider than the Sun and shine so brightly that they can be seen from enormous distances. You'd think there'd be no better beacons for a map of the galaxy.

In the darkness of interstellar space drift millions of rogue planets — worlds not bound to any star. They are almost impossible to see, but when such a wanderer passes in front of a distant star, its gravity bends the light and momentarily creates a cosmic magnifying glass.

Only by passing in front of a star did Chiron reveal its secret. Three icy hoops encircle the 200-kilometer body — a hybrid of comet and asteroid. Previously, they were only hinted at by spectra of reflected light and brightness fluctuations.

Using the most powerful space telescope, James Webb, astronomers peeked into the cosmic dressing room and saw how the rings of asteroid Chariklo are changing.

A spinning top tilted over a table, with a dusty pancake swirling around it. That is what a young stellar system looks like when the star's spin axis and the plane of its protoplanetary disk do not align. Until recently, astronomers did not know how common such a configuration is in nature.

In the stream of cosmic rays, particles flying toward us from the depths of the Galaxy, titanium is rare. Its nuclei are almost indistinguishable from iron: both are heavy, and both leave similar tracks in detectors.