18 Rassvet satellites failed to reach orbit, highlighting the limits of Russian military communications in 2026

Half of the 36 Russian satellites did not reach their designated orbits. For a regular space program, this would be a technical failure; for an army trying to replace its stolen dependence on Starlink with its own communication system, this is already an operational diagnosis. According to an ISW assessment from September 4, this concerns satellites from the Rassvet project, intended to provide Russian reconnaissance and strike UAVs with reliable communication over Ukraine. Ukrainian defense technology specialist Sergey "Flash" Beskrestnov reported that the cause is likely related to engine defects, and some of the devices remain below the calculated altitude. In Russian military tradition, there is a tendency to speak of "increasing the grouping." But a grouping that cannot reach a working orbit is referred to in the headquarters not as a grouping, but as a list of hopes.

Why Russia needed Rassvet

The military logic behind Rassvet is clear. Russian units have long relied on an informal mix of civilian channels, trophy equipment, commercial terminals, and improvised relays for tactical management. In 2025-2026, this became particularly noticeable in the "reconnaissance-strike" link: the operator needs not just to receive an image from the UAV, but to maintain the control channel, transmit coordinates, adjust the trajectory, and sometimes guide the device to the target in near real-time. When access to Western satellite systems is restricted or becomes politically risky, Moscow is forced to build its own framework. Rassvet was supposed to be just such a framework—not a civilian symbol of technological sovereignty, but a military tool for drone warfare.

It is important not to exaggerate: even an incomplete satellite network can provide Russian forces with new capabilities. ISW rightly notes that Rassvet already poses a risk to Ukraine, as it improves the accuracy of reconnaissance and strike UAVs. However, there is a vast engineering distance between "poses a risk" and "replaces Starlink." Starlink is valuable not for a single satellite, but for its mass, redundancy, regular replacement of devices, and coverage density. For round-the-clock reliable communication over Ukraine, Russia needs not a demonstration batch, but an industrial conveyor of launches with an acceptable failure rate. Instead, we currently see 36 devices, of which about 18 did not reach their target.

The problem is not just in the quantity

A low orbit is not a catastrophe in itself if it is planned. But if a satellite does not reach its calculated altitude, its resource is sharply reduced: atmospheric resistance in the upper layers is stronger, fuel consumption is higher, orbital correction is more expensive, and lifespan is shorter. This turns Rassvet from long-term infrastructure into expendable material. For an army waging a war of attrition, this is particularly unpleasant. In the Soviet space program, redundancy was ensured by the scale of the state and almost mobilization-level industrial discipline. Modern Russia is trying to reproduce the effect of the Soviet system without its production base and without access to some modern microelectronics. Sanctions do not cancel launches, but they worsen the margin of error.

The Russian defense industry knows how to adapt. This must be acknowledged honestly; otherwise, the analysis turns into propaganda. It is increasing the production of drones, expanding the manufacture of glide munitions, seeking alternative supply chains, and quickly implementing frontline solutions. But satellite communication is a stricter discipline. Here, one cannot replace a microchip with "something almost the same" without consequences for thermal regulation, orientation, power supply, and durability. One can assemble a device, one can launch part of a batch, one can declare success. It is more difficult to ensure a stable series where failure is an exception, not half the result.

Geran becomes faster and more accurate

Rassvet should be considered alongside another ISW report from September 4: Russian Geran platforms are adapting for precision strikes. According to Beskrestnov, Russia is ramping up production of the jet-powered Geran-4, capable of reaching speeds of up to 550 km/h, and is also working on increasing the speed of cheaper strike devices, including Geran-5, S8000 Banderol, Dan-T, Dan-M, and the new UMPB-5R. Ukrainian sources estimate that the mesh control chain for Geran can be maintained at 150-175 km from the farthest ground station, which is about twice as far as in 2025. This is no longer the old Shahed as a noisy nighttime "moped." It is an attempt to create a cheap guided strike system where speed, communication, and reconnaissance are combined into one framework.

This is why the failure of Rassvet is more significant than it seems. A fast drone without reliable communication turns into a more expensive version of a pre-programmed munition. A satellite channel without a sufficient number of devices creates windows of opportunity but does not provide a constant layer of control. A ground mesh network offers flexibility but depends on agents, relays, the electronic warfare environment, and the distance to the target. The Russian army, as in the late Soviet years, is trying to solve the system problem with a set of private technical solutions. Sometimes this works at the tactical level. At the campaign level, such an architecture becomes fragile.

The diplomatic backdrop enhances the military significance

Against this backdrop, the events of September 5 do not appear as a separate diplomatic scene but as part of the same military logic. The Kyiv Independent reported that American representatives Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner arrived in Moscow and were then expected to visit Kyiv. The Ukrainian side proposed a temporary pause in long-range strikes and hostilities; however, Russia initially continued its attacks: according to Ukrainian data, ballistic missiles and 167 drones were used, resulting in at least seven deaths and 51 injuries. Then the Kremlin announced a three-day halt to strikes on Kyiv starting at midnight on September 6, linking it to the visit of American intermediaries. This is not a ceasefire in a military sense, but a managed pause in one selected area of pressure.

If one reads these episodes together, a characteristic Russian combination emerges: first, a demonstration of the ability to strike at airports and decision-making centers, then a limited gesture of "security" for the American delegation, and simultaneously—the construction of its own satellite network to enhance the accuracy of drone strikes. Moscow shows that it can calibrate violence. But the technical side of this demonstration is less convincing than the political one. To calibrate force consistently, a reliable management infrastructure is needed. And Rassvet currently shows that the Russian defense industry in the space segment operates not as a mature network but as an accelerated military project with a high failure rate.

What this means for Ukraine and NATO

For Ukraine, the conclusion is unpleasant but not panic-inducing. Russian strikes will become more accurate where mesh relays, agents, and limited satellite support coincide in time and place. Command posts, communication nodes, airfields, warehouses, and mobile air defense groups are particularly vulnerable. The strike on the SBU building on September 4, which ISW links to an attempt to hit the office of the head of the service, Alexander Poklad, shows that Russia is seeking not only widespread destruction but also pinpoint effects. However, this accuracy is not yet universal. It requires a prepared network, intelligence data, and a reliable channel. The more often Ukraine destroys ground relays, identifies agents, and suppresses control channels, the faster Rassvet turns from a strategic project into an expensive crutch.

For NATO, the lesson is broader. European security has too long viewed satellite communication as a convenient addition rather than as an expendable infrastructure of war. The Russian example shows two things simultaneously: Moscow is technologically lagging behind Western commercial networks, but it has correctly understood the very nature of modern warfare. Communication has become a munition. It is consumed, suppressed, substituted, stolen, restored, and launched again. If Russia, even with a half-failure of Rassvet, gains tactical advantages, then European armies with nice presentations and small stocks of terminals should not feel too comfortable.

The Soviet military school loved to repeat that management is half of victory. In 2026, this should be read literally: without a communication channel, a drone becomes blind faster than a tank without fuel.

My forecast is cautious. Rassvet will not become Russia's Starlink in the coming months: the grouping is too small, the failure rate is too high, and the resource of devices on incorrect orbits may be too short. But it does not have to become Starlink to be dangerous. It is enough to create a few temporary "corridors of accuracy" for strikes on important targets. The Russian defense industry will likely continue to launch new batches, fix engine defects, and hide the real failure statistics behind the language of victory reports. Ukraine will not see the disappearance of the threat but rather a more nerve-wracking form of it: technically imperfect but persistent. Such a threat rarely looks pretty on a diagram, but in war, it kills quite effectively.