#pocketqube

By Lijie Zhu

You don’t forget your first satellite. The build nights that turned into early mornings. The failed antenna deployment tests. The unexpected victories — like hearing that first beacon. It’s messy, humbling, and wildly addictive.

At Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc., launching HADES‑ICM wasn’t just a technical milestone. It was a transformation. We moved from theory to orbit, from whiteboards to downlinks, from dreaming to doing. And now, standing on the other side of that mission, we’ve had time to reflect.

There’s this thing in aerospace — a kind of reverence for "lessons learned." These aren’t just bullet points for presentations. They’re the subtle truths that shape your next design, your next team meeting, your next decision to try again.

So, here’s what we learned from our first mission — and where we’re headed next.

1. Simple ≠ Easy

We started with a belief that simplicity would be our strength. Keep the payload lean. Use off-the-shelf components. Minimize points of failure.

And that worked… until it didn’t.

Space has a way of exposing every assumption. A connector rated to survive vacuum might technically be compliant, but if it wasn’t crimped just right? You’ll find out — probably too late. A firmware patch that works flawlessly on the bench might become unusable with real Doppler shift and noise floor interference.

Takeaway: Simplicity is still our design principle — but it now includes margin, redundancy, and a healthy dose of paranoia.

2. The Ground Game Matters More Than You Think

We obsessed over our satellite’s health. But what we didn’t obsess over enough — at least not early — was the ecosystem around it.

Our ground station worked, sure. But we didn’t fully anticipate how many variables would affect data integrity: temperature drift in SDRs, local RF noise, the quirks of third-party decoding software, or misconfigured time stamps.

Then there’s the human side. Volunteers around the world started logging our signals — some with better reception than we had! We scrambled to onboard them, verify their reports, and build tools to streamline it.

Takeaway: You don’t just launch a satellite. You launch a network — and every link matters.

3. People Show Up If You Let Them

One of the most surprising — and moving — parts of the HADES‑ICM mission was the sheer enthusiasm from people we didn’t even know.

A university group in Argentina tracked us daily. A student in Bangladesh wrote code to parse our telemetry. An artist in Norway submitted an FM beacon poem idea — which, in hindsight, we probably should have flown.

What started as an internal project became… something bigger.

Takeaway: Participation isn’t just possible. It’s powerful. The next generation of mission design must invite community from day one.

4. Redundancy Is Not Optional

We cut a few corners. Not recklessly — just budget-wise. And for the most part, our single-string architecture held up.

But we also had a few close calls:

A partial telemetry blackout due to thermal expansion

A low battery cycle we didn’t predict

A weird data glitch that resolved itself (thankfully)

In each case, a bit of redundancy — a second sensor, a watchdog circuit, a fallback mode — would’ve saved us stress.

Takeaway: Redundancy doesn’t have to be bulky. It just has to be thoughtful.

5. Don’t Wait to Celebrate

We were so focused on "making it work" that we sometimes forgot to pause. To say, “Hey, that test passed — let’s enjoy this.” Or, “Our satellite just deployed, and it’s alive.”

That’s easy to skip in startup mode, or when deadlines blur into each other.

But space is hard. Wins matter. And even small ones deserve a moment.

Takeaway: Mission culture is just as important as mission specs. Celebrate your team.

So… What’s Next?

After HADES‑ICM, we’re building toward a more open, scalable platform:

More modular PocketQubes — faster to iterate, easier to adapt

Payloads by invitation — artists, teachers, and tinkerers welcome

A new community dashboard for real-time tracking and experimentation

Open source tools to decode and visualize data with no prior experience

We’re also working on the next icMercury mission, which we hope will reflect everything we learned — and everything we’re still figuring out.

And in November, we’ll be heading to London for the 2025 Go Global Awards, hosted by the International Trade Council. Being nominated is a big deal for us — not because of prestige, but because of what it represents: that our work is part of something bigger. That space innovation is being recognized as a global language — and we’re proud to be fluent in it.

It’s not just a ceremony. It’s a convergence — a gathering of the world’s builders, thinkers, and doers. And we’re grateful to be in the room.

Final Thought

First missions are never perfect. Ours wasn’t. But it was real. And that’s what matters.

Because now we know what works — and what we’d never do again.

By Seda Hewitt, Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc., United States

There’s a tendency—still, even now—for space to feel like it belongs to someone else. To governments. To billionaires. To people with advanced degrees or corporate ties. And while those voices are absolutely part of the story, they’re not the only ones who belong at the table—or in orbit.

At Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc., based in the United States, we’re working toward something different. Through our PocketQube missions like HADES‑ICM and the icMercury platform, we’ve seen a shift. Space is no longer reserved for the privileged few. It’s becoming more open, more participatory, and—most importantly—more human.

But the truth is, this openness doesn’t happen by accident. It takes intention. It takes infrastructure. It takes storytelling, outreach, and platforms that don’t just allow for inclusion, but actively invite it.

Why Inclusivity in Space Tech Matters

It’s not just a feel-good idea. Diversity in technology—especially in emerging fields like nanosatellites—leads to more robust solutions. Different minds see different problems. They approach them in ways others wouldn’t even consider.

When satellite access is limited to large institutions or specific geographies, we miss out on a huge range of innovation. That’s not hypothetical—it’s quantifiable. There are ideas from rural educators in Nigeria, from Indigenous students in Canada, from young women in STEM clubs in Southeast Asia, that can change how we think about satellite usage.

The point is not charity. It’s equity. And frankly, it’s smart.

How We’re Trying to Make Room

At Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc., we’ve made a few quiet but deliberate choices:

Transparent telemetry: We publish our satellite data formats and welcome decoding communities worldwide. You don’t need a contract or a password—just curiosity.

Educational kits: Through our icMercury program, we help schools and citizen groups get involved in satellite tracking and experimentation.

Low-barrier launch partnerships: We work with rideshare providers to keep payload costs down, enabling more small teams and individuals to enter orbit.

There’s a story I often think about—a group of high school girls from the Midwest who used open-source tools to build their own ground station. They tracked HADES‑ICM from their school roof and presented their findings to the local council. Nothing flashy. No spotlight. But that’s the work that changes things.

Not every innovation happens in a lab. Sometimes it’s in a classroom. Sometimes it’s on a kitchen table.

Representation Isn’t Just a Visual

Of course, inclusivity isn’t only about who gets to participate technically. It’s about who sees themselves reflected in the narrative.

This is where storytelling plays a role. We’re intentional about who speaks for our company. I write these pieces not as a faceless corporate rep, but as Seda Hewitt—a woman in aerospace, speaking from lived experience. And I know how rare that still is.

When young people see someone like them in space—when they hear their language, see their culture acknowledged, find tools that meet them where they are—it sticks. It plants a seed. And sometimes that seed grows into a career, a mission, a whole new industry standard.

Inclusion at the Global Level

This November, Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc. will be in London, attending the 2025 Go Global Awards, hosted by the International Trade Council. We’re honored to be nominated.

But what excites me even more is what the event represents: a global exchange of ideas, experiences, and potential partnerships. This isn’t just an awards night. It’s a conclave of minds from across borders, across industries. An environment where real collaboration can take root.

And yes, it’s the perfect setting to keep talking about inclusive access—not just in space tech, but in all tech. Because the future we’re building depends on who gets to help build it.

Making Space Feel Personal

We’re not under any illusion that satellites are suddenly “easy.” They’re complex. They require patience, training, tools. But they’re no longer as unreachable as they once were.

Part of our mission is showing that you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to participate. You can be a teacher looking to inspire your students. A maker tinkering with antennas. A retiree scanning signals from your backyard. A student asking “What if?”

Inclusivity means honoring all those roles. Because each one adds value. Each one keeps the movement growing.

A Final Thought

Inclusivity isn’t a box you check. It’s a culture. A philosophy. A commitment to asking “Who else can be here?” and then actually making room.

Space, despite its vastness, used to feel closed off. But today, that’s changing. At Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc., we’re just one part of that shift. We believe the skies are open—not just physically, but ideologically.

So the next time you hear a satellite pass overhead, remember: that signal? It’s not just science. It’s an invitation.

By Seda Hewitt, Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc., United States

Somewhere, right now, a teenager in Brazil is tuning into a signal from low Earth orbit using nothing more than a handheld antenna and a modest transceiver. Halfway across the world, a retired engineer in Japan is logging beacon pings from a PocketQube on his balcony. And in a small town in Eastern Europe, a community radio club is decoding live telemetry and sharing it with their local school.

What connects all these people?

Amateur radio—or “ham radio,” as it’s often called.

Once seen as a quaint, niche hobby, amateur radio is experiencing something of a renaissance. And it’s not because of nostalgia. It’s because the boundaries between Earth and space have started to thin. With small, affordable satellites like HADES‑ICM, and platforms like icMercury—from Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc., based in the United States—radio operators are now part of an expanding universe.

They’re no longer just reaching across continents. They’re reaching the stars.

A Legacy Hobby Meets a New Frontier

Amateur radio has been around for over a century. Traditionally, it’s been about sending and receiving messages, experimenting with antennas, and mastering long-distance communication through the atmosphere.

But the hobby has always carried a spirit of experimentation. And when space became accessible—not just to governments and corporations, but to hobbyists—radio operators were among the first to notice.

Satellites started transmitting in ham bands. Suddenly, a new frontier opened up—one that didn’t require a launchpad, only a license, a radio, and a bit of patience.

That spirit continues today. Only now, the satellites are smaller, cheaper, and far more interactive.

PocketQubes: The Game Changer

Our icMercury satellites, including HADES‑ICM, are about the size of a Rubik’s Cube and weigh less than a loaf of bread. But don’t let that fool you—they’re packed with capability. Operating on VHF and UHF amateur radio bands, they transmit beacon signals, telemetry data, and even allow for APRS relays (Automatic Packet Reporting System), enabling two-way messaging through space.

For amateur radio enthusiasts, this means:

Tracking live satellites with antennas they build themselves

Decoding telemetry using open-source software

Sending and receiving APRS messages through orbit

Participating in global space missions from their backyards

It’s not just fun. It’s real contribution.

Some hams are the first to hear a new satellite after deployment. Others provide critical signal reports that help us at Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc. refine operations. In a way, they’ve become mission partners—not officially on payroll, but unquestionably essential.

Why It’s Growing Again

Part of this revival is technological. Radios have become cheaper. Software has become more intuitive. Online communities have made it easier to learn. You don’t need a room full of gear anymore. A laptop and a $30 USB receiver can get you started.

But I think there’s something else going on.

In an era where most tech feels invisible—apps, clouds, algorithms—radio offers something tangible. You build it. You hear it. You feel it. And when you know that the beep you’re picking up just came from 500 km above Earth? That never stops being thrilling.

Young people are discovering this for the first time. Older hobbyists are coming back. And in the middle, a growing, global network of curious minds is forming.

A Culture of Sharing

Amateur radio has always had a generous, open-source heart. That fits beautifully with the way icMercury is built. We publish our telemetry formats. We share frequencies. We invite people to play, test, fail, and try again.

And they do.

We’ve seen logs from over 60 countries. We've received signal recordings from volunteers within hours of launch. We’ve had entire school groups build their own antennas based on blog posts from other hams.

This is space participation at its best—not centralized, not monetized, but communal.

Recognition Beyond the Hobby

This kind of public involvement is gaining notice at higher levels, too. This November, Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc. will attend the 2025 Go Global Awards in London, hosted by the International Trade Council. We’re proud to be a nominee.

But the real story isn’t just about our team—it’s about the people behind the scenes. The ones listening to passes at 3 a.m., who share signal maps online, who teach a younger generation how to tune into the sky.

At events like the Go Global Awards, where businesses and policymakers meet, we hope to shine a light on these communities. Because the future of space isn’t just built in boardrooms. It’s also soldered in garages and logged in field notebooks.

Final Thought: When You Listen, You Belong

Amateur radio is, at its core, about listening. And when you listen—really listen—you start to feel like you’re part of something bigger.

Maybe you hear a faint Morse beacon from HADES‑ICM. Maybe you decode a string of telemetry values and realize what they mean. Maybe you hear silence and wait again tomorrow. It doesn’t matter. You’re part of the sky now.

And in a world where space can feel distant, technical, and owned by someone else… that feeling of inclusion? It’s powerful.

By Lijie Zhu

You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to take part in space exploration.

Seriously.

At Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc., we’ve always believed that space should be personal, accessible, and a little bit messy — the way real discovery feels. And our icMercury initiative is built around that exact idea.

If you’ve ever looked up and wondered, Could I be part of something like this? — the answer is: yes. You can. And you don’t have to wait for permission.

Whether you’re a student, teacher, radio amateur, coder, or just really curious — there are ways to contribute, participate, and shape what icMercury becomes. It’s not just a platform. It’s a community. And we’re inviting you in.

1. Listen to Our Satellites

Every time our PocketQubes pass overhead, they say something. Usually in little chirps — digital beacons containing telemetry, identifiers, even occasional experimental signals.

All you need is:

A basic SDR (Software Defined Radio) setup

An antenna (DIY builds are totally fine)

A computer or Raspberry Pi

Open-source decoding tools like Direwolf, GNURadio, or SatNOGS

You don’t need to be a comms expert. We’ve had high school students pick up our signals, log them, and send them back to us — often with creative flair.

Your reception reports help validate our data and improve our next missions. Every ping counts.

2. Join icMercury Beta Programs

We’re constantly building — apps, dashboards, experiment tools — and we need testers who aren’t afraid to click around, break things, and share feedback.

Upcoming beta opportunities include:

Mission tracking apps for web and mobile

Citizen science modules for in-orbit experiments

Interactive AR overlays for understanding telemetry in fun ways

Beta testers don’t need credentials. You just need curiosity — and maybe a little patience.

3. Submit a Payload Idea

One of the boldest things we’ve done is open up small payload opportunities to the public.

Not a 20-kilogram camera. Not a spectrometer. Think smaller:

A tiny sensor for temperature or light

A poem in Morse code

A low-data experiment to test binary signal behavior

We’ve flown payloads from artists, teachers, even a group of retirees from a community tech lab. If it fits our constraints and sparks curiosity, we’ll consider it.

icMercury isn’t just for engineers. It’s for experimenters.

4. Collaborate as an Educator

If you’re a teacher or program coordinator, we’d love to talk.

We’ve helped schools develop:

Custom lesson plans tied to real satellite data

Ground station kits for classrooms

Launch-day watch parties and beacon hunts

Space becomes real when students can track something they sent a message to — even if it’s just a digital ping. And these programs don’t require high budgets or fancy gear. We’re here to help you adapt and scale based on your needs.

5. Contribute Code, Tools, or Translations

Are you a developer? A designer? Bilingual? There’s space for you too.

We welcome:

Interface designs for mission data

Custom decoders or signal tools

Documentation translations for non-English-speaking enthusiasts

We’ve had volunteers in Colombia build localized ground station guides, and open-source contributors improve our beacon parsers.

Community isn’t just talk. It’s contribution — in whatever form that takes.

6. Attend Our Webinars and Local Meetups

We host regular free webinars titled "Unlocking the Possibilities: How You Can Launch a Satellite". No jargon. No gatekeeping. Just open conversations with our team, Q&As, and a few laughs.

And soon, we’ll be expanding to in-person meetups — casual gatherings to talk PocketQubes, antennas, orbital weirdness, and dreams.

If you’ve ever thought I have questions but don’t know where to ask them, these are for you.

7. Be Part of Something Bigger

This isn't a marketing line. It’s a truth.

Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc. has been nominated for the 2025 Go Global Awards, hosted by the International Trade Council this November in London. And that nomination isn’t just about us — it’s about what we’re building with all of you.

The Go Global Awards aren’t just accolades. They’re a summit of the boldest thinkers in trade, innovation, and exploration. We’re proud to bring the icMercury community into that conversation.

Because innovation without community isn’t progress — it’s just noise.

Final Thought

Getting involved with space doesn’t require a PhD or millions in funding. It just takes a little wonder and a willingness to try.

With icMercury, we’re building something experimental, human, and open-ended. Not just a satellite program — but a participatory movement.

The stars are up there. But the opportunity? It’s right here.

By Seda Hewitt, Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc., United States

If you ask someone who owns space, they might pause for a second.

Maybe they’ll say NASA. Or Elon Musk. Maybe they’ll laugh and say “no one,” assuming it’s too far away to belong to anybody. And technically, under international law, outer space belongs to all of us—it's part of the global commons.

But in practice? That’s a bit more complicated.

For decades, space has been the domain of large government agencies and, more recently, deep-pocketed private companies. The average person could look up at the night sky, maybe spot a satellite crossing overhead, but that was it. There wasn’t a clear sense that space was something they could interact with—much less own, shape, or influence.

That’s changing.

At Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc., based in the United States, we’re not just building satellites through our icMercury program and missions like HADES‑ICM—we’re rethinking what participation in space looks like. And part of that means reframing “ownership.” Not in the legal sense, but in terms of belonging, access, and agency.

Let’s talk about what this means, and why it matters more than ever.

Ownership Without Property

Here’s where we hit a paradox. You can’t own outer space. The 1967 Outer Space Treaty makes that clear: no nation can claim sovereignty, and space is for peaceful purposes, open to all humanity.

But what about the satellite you build? The data you transmit? The signal you receive through a ground station in your backyard? These things are very much "yours," in a practical sense. So maybe the question isn’t who owns space, but rather, who feels like they belong in it?

And for a long time, the answer was… not many.

Now, with the rise of micro-satellites, software-defined radios, and open-access missions like ours, that feeling of ownership is starting to spread.

You don’t need a PhD. You don’t need clearance codes. You just need a bit of curiosity—and maybe a tiny satellite, like HADES‑ICM, passing overhead.

What Public Ownership Can Look Like

In the icMercury community, we’ve seen firsthand how people from all walks of life begin to “own” space in meaningful ways.

Students tracking satellite telemetry from their high school labs

Farmers using downlinked data to monitor soil conditions

Amateur radio operators decoding APRS messages and sharing signal reports

Artists and educators designing payloads that blend science with public storytelling

Local governments installing small ground stations for civic preparedness

None of these groups "own" the orbit. But they’re shaping what happens in it. They’re making it personal. Familiar. Real.

That’s what we mean by public sphere ownership—not legal possession, but lived participation.

Naming, Narratives, and Visibility

One small but powerful tool we've introduced through icMercury is the option for users to name their own payloads. It sounds simple—maybe even superficial—but giving people the chance to embed their own language, identity, or cause into an orbiting object? That’s transformative.

We’ve had payloads named for ancestors, classrooms, ideas, even songs. Each one adds to a growing library of personal connections with the sky. And this is where storytelling really matters.

Because if space continues to be a silent, distant, sterile thing… people will continue to see it as someone else’s domain.

But if it starts to feel like a place of stories, where your culture, your questions, your experiments are welcome? Then the idea of ownership shifts—from control to inclusion.

Building with That in Mind

At Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc., we’ve built the icMercury platform to be modular, open, and user-friendly—because real ownership comes from understanding. We don’t hide the backend. We encourage exploration. We invite mistakes.

And we learn from our users.

One group in Eastern Europe created a local club where citizens could submit “satellite postcards”—small digital messages uplinked and relayed by our satellites. Another group in the Philippines is mapping radio dead zones using HADES‑ICM passes and sharing the data publicly for telecom advocacy.

None of these were part of the original mission plan. But that’s the point.

We provide the tools. The public writes the story.

Shaping the Global Conversation

Later this year, Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc. is heading to London as a nominee for the 2025 Go Global Awards, hosted by the International Trade Council. It’s more than an awards show—it’s a conclave of the world’s most innovative minds, coming together to discuss how business, tech, and global impact intersect.

And yes, space will be on the agenda.

Because if we’re going to democratize access to space, we need more than rockets. We need frameworks that support ethical inclusion, cultural diversity, and community-led innovation.

We’re proud to be part of that conversation. And even prouder to bring the voices of our users with us—some of whom, not long ago, never imagined they’d have a connection to space at all.

Final Thought: It’s Not About Owning the Sky—It’s About Belonging to It

So maybe we’ll never "own" space in the way we own land or phones or patents. That’s okay.

But we can belong to it. We can shape it. Use it. Build with it. Talk about it at the dinner table, the classroom, the community hall.

And when enough people feel that connection—when space becomes a shared commons in spirit, not just in law—that’s when the real shift happens.

By Lijie Zhu

When I first received word that Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc. had been nominated for the 2025 Go Global Awards, I paused.

Not because I didn’t believe in the work we were doing — I do. Fiercely. But because recognition, especially on an international stage, always brings with it a moment of reflection. What does this actually mean? For our team. For our partners. For what we’re building. For space, even.

The Go Global Awards aren’t your usual pat-on-the-back ceremony. They’re hosted by the International Trade Council and bring together companies from all over the world — from healthcare and logistics to aerospace and agritech. These aren’t just winners in their own markets. These are the doers, the builders, the quietly persistent.

So yes, this nomination matters. And here’s why.

A Chance to Step Outside Our Own Orbit

Running a company that deals with space technology — especially micro-space — often means working in deep focus. We’re immersed in telemetry, or antenna calibration, or regulatory filings, or soldering boards that weigh less than a slice of toast. It’s all very specific. Purposeful. But also... narrow.

Being nominated for something like the Go Global Awards offers a rare chance to step back and ask bigger questions:

How are we affecting people beyond our mission control?

What ripple effects do our satellites have in education, access, and equity?

How do we scale sustainably, ethically, and openly?

This nomination nudges us to zoom out — to see the larger landscape we’re moving through, and contributing to.

Recognition Without the Gloss

This isn’t about glitz.

The Go Global Awards aren’t trying to turn us into celebrities. They’re about substance — recognizing companies that take risks, challenge the expected, and work with both ambition and intention.

We didn’t build HADES‑ICM for applause. We built it because we believe that space should be accessible. That small satellites can serve big ideas. That curiosity and creativity shouldn’t be gated by budget or geography.

Being nominated doesn’t validate that mission. It amplifies it. It tells us there are others — across industries and continents — who value the same things.

An Invitation to Collaborate

Awards sometimes feel final, like the last page of a story. But this one feels like a preface.

The event in London this November — it isn’t just a ceremony. It’s a gathering. Of innovators. Of thinkers. Of companies with roots in one country and ideas that stretch around the world.

We’re not just going to shake hands. We’re going to talk. Share. Challenge each other. Forge new partnerships in areas we haven’t even touched yet — maybe agri-tech, maybe ocean health, maybe machine learning for orbital forecasting. Who knows?

What I do know is that space shouldn’t be isolated. And this nomination puts us in a room full of people who feel the same way about their own fields.

That’s powerful.

A Quiet Moment of Gratitude

It’s easy to get swept up in future-planning and long-range goals. But this nomination also offers something quieter: the chance to say thank you.

To the people on our team soldering boards at 2 AM. To those answering student emails about how to track HADES‑ICM with a wire coat hanger and a cheap SDR dongle. To the volunteers logging beacon data from rooftops in Slovakia, Nigeria, and Chile.

Recognition like this is a ripple made possible by dozens of hands.

It’s as much theirs as it is ours.

Looking Ahead

We’ve got work to do. More PocketQubes in development. An app launching soon. And always, the next question: how do we make space feel personal for someone who’s never thought of it as “theirs”?

That’s the mission. That’s the thread we’re following.

And that’s what we’ll carry with us to London in November.

By Lijie Zhu

There’s a shift happening above us.

For decades, the space industry was dominated by national agencies and government contractors. The barriers to entry were steep: costs were astronomical (pun intended), regulations were dense, and timelines spanned years, even decades. But quietly, and then all at once, things began to change.

Today, space is no longer just a playground for billionaires or state-backed missions. It’s a dynamic, unfolding arena of opportunity — and if you’re an entrepreneur or investor, you might want to look up.

At Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc., I’ve seen this evolution up close. Our PocketQube mission HADES‑ICM wasn’t just a technology demonstration — it was a statement. That small companies, with focused ideas and sharp execution, can not only reach space but shape its future.

So, let’s unpack this. Why should entrepreneurs care about space? And more importantly — why now?

1. Falling Costs, Rising Accessibility

In the past, launching a satellite could easily cost $50 million or more. Today? A startup can send a PocketQube into orbit for under $50,000, including the launch.

What changed?

Reusable rockets: SpaceX and others have slashed the cost per kilogram to orbit.

Standardized satellite buses: Off-the-shelf hardware and plug-and-play components now exist for many smallsat missions.

Rideshare launches: You no longer need to buy an entire rocket. You can rent a few kilograms on someone else’s ride.

The result? Space has gone from impossible to feasible — and soon, routine.

2. More Than Just Satellites

The space economy isn’t just about launching stuff into orbit. It’s a vast, interconnected ecosystem that includes:

Ground station networks

Space-based data platforms

Edge computing in orbit

Space law, insurance, and regulation tech

Educational tools and simulation systems

Consumer-facing applications powered by satellite data

This creates room for a wide range of startups — not just rocket builders. If your company works with AI, data analytics, agriculture, maritime logistics, telecom, or even education, space might be your next strategic layer.

3. Untapped Markets on Earth

Let’s ground this for a second. Most space startups don’t make their money in space — they make it on Earth, using insights gathered from above.

A few examples:

Precision agriculture uses thermal imagery from satellites to optimize irrigation.

Disaster response teams use near-real-time satellite photos to plan relief.

Shipping and logistics firms rely on satellite-enabled AIS tracking.

Insurance companies assess land risk with orbital data.

If you’re solving a terrestrial problem using orbital infrastructure, you're in the space business — whether you call yourself that or not.

4. Global Reach from Day One

A satellite doesn’t care about borders.

That means if you build a service that works via satellite — from remote sensing to narrowband IoT — your business is global from launch. You're not scaling region by region. You're up and running anywhere your satellite passes overhead.

For entrepreneurs used to slow geographical rollouts, this is a radically different mode of expansion.

5. The Ecosystem Is Hungry for Talent

Here’s the thing — the space industry needs more entrepreneurs.

It’s full of brilliant engineers, but not enough builders, marketers, or business model innovators. That gap is an opportunity. The tools are in place. The launch windows are open. Now we need people who can package, price, and scale.

Space doesn’t just need scientists. It needs storytellers. It needs simplifiers. It needs people who know how to move fast, test assumptions, and bring in customers.

That’s where entrepreneurial thinking thrives.

6. Collaborative Advantage

Space isn’t a zero-sum game. It’s too new, too complex, and too broad.

Most missions require partnerships — between manufacturers, launch providers, ground station networks, and data consumers. That spirit of collaboration means startups with the right focus can plug in fast, build reputation, and grow through joint missions or shared platforms.

At Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc., we didn’t just build and launch HADES‑ICM on our own. We worked with brokers, regulators, engineers, and a global community of ham radio operators. That mix of collaboration and iteration — that’s where innovation accelerates.

7. Recognition and Momentum

The world is starting to pay attention.

We’re honored to be a nominee for the 2025 Go Global Awards, hosted by the International Trade Council this November in London. It’s more than an awards ceremony — it’s a convening of the boldest and most inventive minds in business. People pushing boundaries in healthcare, finance, energy, and yes — space.

These are the kinds of conversations where new ventures are born. Where unexpected partnerships emerge. And where space startups find both allies and visibility.

Final Thought

Look — space still has risks. It’s not for the faint of heart. Things blow up. Orbits decay. Regulations shift. You won’t solve everything overnight.

But the infrastructure is there. The entry points are open. And the problems we can solve from orbit — real, practical, Earth-based problems — are only just being scratched.

If you're an entrepreneur, maybe space isn’t as far off as you think.

By Seda Hewitt, Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc., United States

If you step into a university engineering lab these days, you might find something unexpected next to the 3D printer and oscilloscope. A satellite. Or at least the skeleton of one—tiny, metal, circuit-packed, and full of promise.

What used to be the domain of national space agencies is now becoming an integral part of higher education. And it’s not just theory anymore. Students are designing, building, launching, and analyzing real space missions—as part of their capstone projects.

At Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc., based in the United States, we’ve watched this trend accelerate through our icMercury platform and PocketQube missions like HADES‑ICM. Universities across different continents have found creative, practical, and sometimes unexpected ways to integrate our satellites into their final-year student programs.

And honestly? It’s one of the most exciting shifts in space education we've seen in years.

First, What Is a Capstone Project?

For those outside academia, a capstone project is typically the final assignment that engineering, science, or tech students complete before graduation. It’s meant to pull together everything they’ve learned—design, problem-solving, project management—and apply it to a real-world problem.

In the past, that might’ve meant designing a robot, a web app, or a manufacturing prototype. But now? It might mean building a communication system for a satellite in orbit. Or even writing flight code that gets beamed to a spacecraft hundreds of kilometers above Earth.

And that's not science fiction. That’s happening right now.

How icMercury Enables This

Our icMercury platform was designed to make satellite technology accessible to more people, including educators and students. With HADES‑ICM, for example, students can:

Decode live telemetry using ground stations they build themselves

Send approved messages through the satellite’s APRS system

Contribute to global observation projects

Analyze orbital decay, radio propagation, and signal behavior

Design experimental payloads for future rideshare opportunities

And the best part? They’re doing this within the time constraints and budget limits of a standard university course.

One group in Spain built a Python dashboard that logs and visualizes real-time telemetry data from HADES‑ICM. A team in Malaysia designed a rotating antenna tracker as part of their final hardware engineering submission. In Canada, a software class used our satellite data to model temperature fluctuations across multiple orbits.

The versatility of PocketQubes makes this kind of integration possible.

Real Learning, Real Constraints

Textbooks can only teach so much. When students work on a satellite capstone, they learn more than just orbital mechanics or radio theory.

They learn what it's like to:

Debug problems they didn't anticipate

Work in teams with overlapping roles

Document everything (because no one else will remember)

Present findings to non-technical audiences

Fail, retry, and still hit a deadline

Sometimes a component overheats. Or a ground station fails mid-test. Or the satellite passes over at 2:14 a.m. and someone has to be awake to catch the signal. This isn’t hypothetical work. It’s messy. Frustrating. And incredibly real.

Which, honestly, makes it the perfect preparation for the engineering world outside the classroom.

Partnerships That Go Beyond Graduation

What’s also inspiring is how these projects don’t always end with a diploma.

We’ve had students stay connected to the icMercury network long after graduation—monitoring new missions, mentoring younger cohorts, even launching their own satellite startups. One former capstone team in South Africa is now developing low-cost atmospheric sensors for PocketQubes. Another group from Argentina spun their ground station software into an open-source project used by hobbyists worldwide.

When we launched HADES‑ICM, we didn’t imagine it would become a long-term community hub. But that’s exactly what’s happened.

And we couldn’t be more proud.

A Bigger Stage for These Ideas

As we approach the 2025 Go Global Awards this November in London, Interstellar Communication Holdings Inc. is honored to be recognized as a nominee. The event, hosted by the International Trade Council, gathers business leaders, innovators, and educators from around the world.

It’s not just about awards. It’s about exposure. Conversation. Collaboration.

We’re excited to bring with us the stories of students—some barely out of high school—who are solving real-world challenges through space. And we’re hopeful that more universities will see the potential in turning classrooms into launchpads.

Because the next generation of satellite engineers, entrepreneurs, and researchers? They're already building. Right now. In university labs. One solder joint and satellite pass at a time.

Final Thought: Space Isn’t the Future Classroom—It’s the Current One

There’s a quiet revolution happening in education. And space is no longer an abstract concept on a chalkboard. It’s something you can see, track, hear, even talk to.

If you’re a university administrator, now’s the time to explore satellite integration. If you’re a professor, think bigger about what your students can handle. And if you’re a student? Know that you don’t have to wait to work in aerospace.