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aerospace engineering

NASA lost 2,000 senior staff in 2025. A company that has never flown is filling the gap.

By Sarah Mitchell

A new talent economics for deep space

Relativity Space will design, build, and operate a Mars orbiter carrying four NASA instruments, targeting a 2028 launch on its still-unflown Terran R rocket. The deal, announced June 17, 2026, pairs NASA's Aeolus atmospheric-science payload suite with Relativity's spacecraft, launch vehicle, and cruise-stage operations. NASA Administrator Jared Isaacman called it a "force multiplier for science" at the announcement event at Relativity's facility. Neither party disclosed contract terms.

The structure mirrors NASA's commercial cargo playbook, but the destination changes the workforce equation. NASA Ames Research Center builds the four Aeolus instruments: a Doppler Wind and Temperature Sounder, a Thermal Limb Sounder, a Surface Radiometric Sensor Package, and a Wide-Field Context Camera. Relativity must deliver the orbiter, execute the interplanetary transit, operate the spacecraft for at least one Martian year, and provide high-bandwidth laser and radio-frequency communications plus on-board compute for autonomous operations. That requires hiring across spacecraft engineering, deep-space operations, planetary science integration, and autonomous systems. Zero G Talent's board lists 22 Relativity roles added in the past week alone, spanning launch operations, vehicle simulation, and manufacturing integration across Long Beach, Cape Canaveral, and Stennis.

The mission is a proof of concept for Relativity's Interplanetary Sciences Program, which the company says will expand to "collect data throughout the solar system." Eric Schmidt, who became CEO and majority owner in 2025 after Relativity ran into fundraising trouble, framed it as a step toward making "access to space more open, reliable and routine." The workforce buildout reflects that ambition: Relativity is staffing for multi-year deep-space programs, not one-off launch campaigns. That distinguishes this deal from the Earth-orbit and lunar-destination contracts that have defined the post-SpaceX commercial space hiring boom.

Why this isn't a SpaceX substitute story

The easy narrative casts Relativity as a "SpaceX competitor" — same industry, same ambitions, same billionaire CEO. That frame misses what the Aeolus contract actually demands from a workforce. A Mars atmospheric orbiter with a 2028 launch window requires a fundamentally different engineering profile than the missions that dominate SpaceX's manifest.

SpaceX's commercial workload (Starlink deployments, ISS cargo runs, crew rotations, and the Starship lunar lander program) concentrates talent in low-Earth-orbit operations. Starlink alone has driven hiring toward RF systems, orbital mechanics at LEO altitudes, and high-cadence manufacturing. The Starship program adds cryogenic fluid management and reusability cycling, but the operational envelope stays close to Earth. Even NASA's Artemis lunar work operates on timescales and communication architectures that differ sharply from a deep-space planetary mission.

Aeolus sits in a different category. The mission carries four NASA-built instruments designed to deliver the first integrated daily global view of Martian winds, temperature, dust, and clouds. Relativity is responsible for the spacecraft, the Terran R launch vehicle, and cruise operations to get the payload to Mars. NASA will operate the science instruments for that same duration.

That structure requires engineers who understand deep-space autonomous operations: long-delay communications, fault-protection architectures that can't rely on real-time ground intervention, planetary orbit insertion, and instrument-spacecraft integration for a science mission rather than a logistics one. These are skills closer to what JPL has built over decades of planetary exploration than to what a launch provider accumulates flying satellites to 550 kilometers.

The workforce implications show up in what Relativity is hiring now. The company added 22 roles in the past week on Zero G Talent's board, including a Vehicle Simulation Engineer II in Long Beach and Launch Operations Engineer II at Cape Canaveral, positions that suggest simultaneous investment in spacecraft development and ground operations infrastructure. The simulation role in particular points to the modeling work needed for a Mars cruise and orbital insertion profile, not a routine LEO launch.

TechCrunch reported that Relativity has raised over $1.3 billion and claims pre-sold launch contracts exceeding $3 billion. The company has never successfully reached orbit; its Terran 1 failed in March 2023, and Terran R has yet to fly. NASA, in other words, is betting on a company that has to prove its rocket works while simultaneously building a spacecraft capable of operating at Mars. That's a development risk that requires hiring people comfortable with unproven hardware on interplanetary timelines.

Launch windows to Mars open roughly every 26 months. Miss the 2028 window and Aeolus waits until 2030. That constraint compresses the timeline for Terran R's first orbital attempt and leaves no margin for the kind of iterative failure-and-redesign cycle that SpaceX used to reach orbit with Falcon 1. The engineers Relativity hires for this program need to operate under a schedule pressure that most launch providers never face on their first mission.

This is the talent pool that doesn't exist in large numbers at SpaceX right now — not because SpaceX lacks capability, but because its operational focus hasn't required it. Building a workforce around deep-space planetary missions means recruiting from the planetary science and autonomous spacecraft communities, not just the launch-vehicle talent pool. That's a different hiring pipeline, a different set of institutional knowledge, and a different career pitch to candidates choosing between companies.

The Aeolus contract isn't a SpaceX substitute. It's a bet that the deep-space planetary workforce can grow around a company that has never flown — and that the engineers to make it happen are out there, waiting for a mission that needs them.

What Jen Morin's hiring reveals

Relativity Space's decision to hire Jen Morin as Director of Talent Acquisition signals a systematic workforce build-out aimed at multi-year deep-space programs, not just Terran R's initial launches.

Morin arrived from Sierra Space, where she led a full redesign of the company's enterprise hiring function: slashing reliance on outside agencies, boosting offer acceptance rates, and standing up workforce planning processes tied to engineering and ops growth. Before that, she ran recruiting at Outrider, an autonomous vehicle company, and held senior TA roles at Stripe, Amazon, DISH Network, and Apple. That mix of experience across autonomous systems, aerospace, and high-scale tech companies is exactly what a company gearing up for multi-year NASA deep-space missions needs.

The timing matters. Relativity's Terran R is still in active development, and the company's NASA Mars orbiter contract demands a workforce fluent in planetary science missions, autonomous spacecraft operations, and government program requirements, not just launch vehicle engineering. Morin's job is global talent acquisition strategy, employer branding, workforce planning, and leadership hiring: the infrastructure you build when you're staffing for years of hardware development, mission operations, and successive NASA program phases simultaneously. On her LinkedIn post announcing the role, she called the chance to build teams behind "such ambitious work" energizing, pointing to the scale of what's ahead.

What makes this a workforce signal rather than a standard executive appointment is who Morin is not. She didn't come from a launch-vehicle background or a pure manufacturing scaling role. She came from Sierra Space, a company that has had to recruit across defense technology, orbital habitats, and human spaceflight simultaneously (exactly the cross-domain hiring challenge Relativity faces as it moves from a rocket developer to a deep-space mission operator). Her track record at Sierra Space of reducing agency dependency and improving planning capacity suggests Relativity is preparing to internalize that recruiting muscle for the long haul.

Zero G Talent's own board data shows Relativity posted 22 new roles in the past week alone, spanning Long Beach, Cape Canaveral, and Stennis Space Center: launch ops, simulation engineering, manufacturing integration, construction management. That's a company building out physical infrastructure and mission operations teams at the same time. Morin's appointment is the organizational scaffolding underneath that hiring wave, a sign that the Mars orbiter contract has moved from a press release into a staffing plan.

What Fast Company's comeback frame misses

When Fast Company ran its "Relativity Reemerges" piece, the frame was familiar: scrappy 3D-printing rocket company stages a comeback, eyes SpaceX's lunch, aims to compete. It's a clean story. It's also incomplete in a way that distorts what's actually happening.

The rivalry narrative treats Relativity as a launch company that had a rough patch and is now bouncing back. That framing misses the structural workforce buildout that the NASA Mars orbiter contract has set in motion. Relativity isn't just adding launch roles. It's building the organizational architecture for multi-year, deep-space planetary missions, a category that barely existed in the private sector before this deal.

Look at what's actually on Zero G Talent's board. Relativity posted 22 roles in the past week. Several of them, like the Atlassian Administrator and Construction Project Manager positions, aren't the roles a company hires when it's trying to win a launch contract. They're the roles a company hires when it's building out infrastructure for programs that run for years. SpaceX, by contrast, added 96 roles in the same window, the majority tied to Starlink and Starshield production and network engineering. Two companies, two completely different workforce strategies, one media narrative that flattens both into "commercial space race."

The Fast Company angle also skips over what the Jen Morin hire signals. When a company brings in a senior talent acquisition leader from a scaling tech organization, it's preparing headcount models for programs it hasn't publicly detailed yet. That's not a comeback story. That's a buildout story. The Mars orbiter contract is the public-facing piece. The hiring pattern suggests the internal timeline extends well beyond a single NASA mission.

There's a deeper problem with the rivalry frame. It positions every commercial space company as competing for the same pool of launch engineers, the same NASA dollars, the same Musk-adjacent narrative. That's not how the workforce actually segments. The skills required to operate a Starlink production line, integrate a national-security payload, and run an autonomous deep-space planetary mission are related but not interchangeable. Relativity's Mars work demands engineers who understand long-delay autonomy, planetary science instrument integration, and mission operations profiles that have no analog in low-Earth-orbit constellations.

The media defaulted to the SpaceX rivalry story because it's legible. Everyone knows SpaceX. The 3D-printing angle gives it a hook. But the more consequential story is the one nobody's covering: a company is systematically assembling a workforce for a category of private deep-space mission that the industry hasn't tried before, and doing it while the dominant player in the sector is focused on an entirely different set of problems. That's not a rivalry. It's a division of labor.

The Texas space corridor angles in

The Mars orbiter contract doesn't exist in isolation. It lands in a state that's actively restructuring its entire aerospace workforce around deep-space ambitions, and Relativity's role there extends well beyond a single NASA mission.

Texas has spent the last two years positioning itself as the commercial space industry's second gravitational center, behind only the Cape Canaveral corridor. Axiom Space redomiciled its headquarters to Houston, where it's building commercial space station infrastructure and running private crewed missions to the ISS. The Texas Space Commission, established to coordinate civil, commercial, military, and academic space activity across the state, has made the workforce pipeline an explicit policy priority. And the University of Texas System signed a Space Act Agreement with NASA's Johnson Space Center in January 2026 to expand research collaboration and workforce development tied to both exploration and national security space.

Relativity's Long Beach, California headquarters and its Cape Canaveral launch operations anchor it on the coasts, but the company's hiring patterns and the broader Texas space ecosystem suggest a more distributed engineering footprint. The state's Space Workforce Incubator for Texas (SWIFT) initiative is explicitly designed to connect Texas schools and colleges to the companies building rockets and spacecraft. Texas A&M's forthcoming Space Institute plans to support applied R&D, planetary science, and mission concept development (the exact disciplines a Mars orbiter program demands).

What matters here is the shift in the type of engineering work Texas is trying to capture. For years, the state's space economy meant Johnson Space Center operations support and a manufacturing base tied to legacy NASA programs. Axiom's Houston presence began changing that calculus, pulling commercial station operations and human spaceflight services into the mix. A planetary science mission — one that requires autonomous spacecraft operations, deep-space communications, and entry-descent-landing expertise — pushes the corridor further toward systems engineering work that doesn't orbit Earth at all.

Relativity's Terran R vehicle is the through-line. The company is developing the largely reusable medium-lift rocket at its Long Beach facility and has been hiring aggressively at Cape Canaveral for launch operations. That's a company staffing up for a flight-rate vehicle while simultaneously executing a NASA deep-space science mission. The two programs share talent: propulsion engineers, structural analysts, avionics specialists, and the kind of systems-thinking engineers who can work across launch vehicle development and planetary spacecraft integration without context-switching.

The workforce implication is straightforward. Texas is building the institutional scaffolding (commission, university programs, workforce incubators) to feed companies that operate beyond LEO. Relativity's Mars contract gives those programs a concrete destination for their graduates that isn't a SpaceX Starlink factory or a Blue Origin suborbital tourism operation. It's a planetary mission with a NASA science mandate, and it requires engineers who understand deep-space environments, not just orbital mechanics.

Whether the state's programs can produce those engineers at the pace Relativity and its competitors need is an open question. But the pipeline is being built, and the Mars orbiter program is the first deep-space mission positioned to absorb it.

The talent vacuum Relativity steps into

SpaceX's dominance in commercial launch has created an odd side effect: it pulled so much engineering talent toward low-Earth-orbit and lunar-colonization work that NASA-aligned planetary science missions started starving for people. The company's 96 open roles on Zero G Talent's board — heavy on Starshield network engineers and Starship tooling specialists — tell you where its workforce energy goes. That focus leaves a specific gap: the kind of deep-space planetary orbiter work NASA still needs done but that doesn't fit Starlink's cadence or Starship's colonization timeline.

NASA's own workforce data makes the problem concrete. In 2025, the agency lost over 2,000 senior staff (GS-13 through GS-15) to buyouts and early retirements, according to Orbital Today. Johnson Space Center alone shed 366 employees. Kennedy Space Center lost 311. These are the people who planned and executed complex lunar and Mars missions, and the departures hit at the same moment the White House proposed what experts called the most severe NASA budget cuts since the 1960s. Casey Dreier, chief of space policy at The Planetary Society, called the loss of managerial and core technical expertise a strategic question without a clear answer.

The result is a two-sided vacuum. NASA's internal capacity to run deep-space science missions shrank. At the same time, the commercial sector's best engineers followed SpaceX toward Starlink satellite production and Starship lunar-lander contracts — work that pays well but doesn't build the skill set for autonomous planetary orbiters operating millions of miles from Earth with 20-minute communication delays.

Relativity's 22 active roles on Zero G Talent's board read differently than SpaceX's listings. The company is hiring mission operations responsible engineers for interplanetary programs, vehicle simulation engineers, and manufacturing integration roles tied to the Terran R launch vehicle. These positions map onto the NASA partnership model: a commercial company building and operating deep-space hardware under agency contract, rather than pursuing a standalone colonization architecture.

The distinction matters for workforce development. SpaceX's Mars plan (uncrewed Starship landings by 2026, crewed missions by 2028 or 2031, per the company's May 2025 presentation) trains engineers on heavy-lift reusability and orbital refueling. Relativity's Mars orbiter work trains them on autonomous spacecraft operations, planetary science instrumentation integration, and the kind of NASA mission-assurance culture that doesn't transfer from Starlink production lines.

NASA's 2025 year-end review shows the agency knows this. The report highlights the ESCAPADE Mars mission launching on Blue Origin's New Glenn, the selection of Rocket Lab for sun and Earth science missions, and the continued development of Gateway as a deep-space platform. These are not SpaceX missions. They require a commercial partner base that can absorb NASA's technical standards and execute science-driven missions on agency timelines. Relativity's Mars orbiter contract positions it inside that base at a moment when the agency can't staff these programs internally and can't rely on a single commercial provider whose priorities sit elsewhere.

The talent vacuum won't close on its own. NASA's hiring pipeline — 18 roles added in the past week on Zero G Talent's board, many at GS-scale salaries that can't match commercial offers — can't compete with SpaceX compensation or Relativity's mission-specific engineering challenges. The engineers who want to build planetary orbiters rather than broadband satellites now have a second option. That's the workforce shift the Mars contract actually signals.


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