The story so far: The Vikram-1 rocket, built by the Hyderabad firm Skyroot, shot through the sky a little past noon on July 18, 2026. The seven-storey rocket lifted off ISRO’s First Launch Pad at Sriharikota and, a little over fifteen minutes later, placed its payloads in an orbit roughly 450 km above the earth. The rocket was Aerospace, and the mission — named Aagaman, Sanskrit for “arrival” — made India only the third country, after the United States and China, whose private industry can reach orbit on its own launch vehicle.

Skyroot’s 3D-printed engine: What it is and why it matters

Rocket engines have traditionally been forged, machined, welded from dozens of parts. 3D printing, which engineers call additive manufacturing, inverts this. A laser fuses metal powder layer upon layer, building the part up from nothing. There are some real advantages to this approach. An engine printed as one piece sheds the bolts, seals and joints where conventional engines leak and fail; when Skyroot test-fired its Raman engine in 2020, it said the fully printed injector halved the mass and cut components and lead time by 80% against conventional manufacture.

Complex internal plumbing — the fine cooling channels that let Vikram-1’s regeneratively cooled engine chill itself with its own propellant — can be printed in shapes no drill can reach. Prototypes emerge in days, not months, so a startup can test, fail and redesign at a pace that would have been anathema to ISRO’s supplier chains. The downsides are subtler: peer-reviewed surveys of the field flag porosity, rough internal surfaces and batch-to-batch variability, and NASA has documented a printed copper combustion chamber failing on the test stand from degraded material quality. A printed engine, in short, is faster and lighter but demands obsessive quality control — the flaw hides inside the layers.

What is the significance of Vikram’s “all-carbon-composite” body?

If the engine is printed, the airframe is woven. Carbon-fibre composite — filaments of near-pure carbon set in resin — offers specific strength (strength per unit weight) many times that of aerospace aluminium or maraging steel; Skyroot claims a five-fold saving over the best rocket steel. Every kilogram of structure trimmed is a kilogram of satellite gained.

The American company, Rocket Lab’s Electron rocket, pioneered the approach and Vikram-1 follows it. The material also resists fatigue and corrosion and can be laid up by automated machines into seamless tubes — Vikram-1’s Stage-1 is India’s longest single-piece composite rocket stage. The disadvantages: the material and its curing infrastructure are expensive; its strength runs along the fibres, so a poorly designed laminate is strong one way and brittle another; and damage — a delamination from a knock in transport — can lurk invisibly beneath a perfect surface, demanding ultrasonic inspection where a dent in aluminium announces itself.

Is this comparable to ISRO’s PSLV?

In architecture, yes; in scale and philosophy, no. Both are four-stage expendable rockets that end in a restartable liquid stage for precise orbital insertion — Vikram-1’s Orbital Adjustment Module is a miniature cousin of the PSLV’s PS4. Both lean on India’s long mastery of solid propulsion. But the PSLV is a 44-metre, 320-tonne workhorse alternating solid and liquid stages to lift 1,750 kg to polar orbit; Vikram-1 is a 22-metre featherweight stacking three solid stages under its liquid module to carry 350 kg. The PSLV wears maraging steel; Vikram-1 wears carbon.

The nearer ISRO analogue is the SSLV, and there the comparison sharpens. The two are architectural twins: three solid stages capped by a small restartable liquid module, both conceived for small satellites on short notice. On raw capacity ISRO wins: SSLV lifts 500 kg to low earth orbit against Vikram-1’s 350. However Vikram’s all-carbon airframe is leaner than SSLV’s conventional casings, a printed engine line built for faster iteration, and — the deepest difference — institutions. SSLV was designed by the state and its production licensed to Hindustan Aeronautics Limited for ₹511 crore; Vikram-1 is owned outright by its maker, financed by venture capital, priced by the market.

Did Vikram-1’s maiden flight go as planned?

Almost to the second. Reports confirm every milestone was met, including the process called ‘long coast,’ a tricky phase for a debutant, which must hold attitude with nothing pushing it and, the final burn of the printed engine. For a maiden flight whose stated ambition was merely to clear the tower and gather data, reaching orbit is over-achievement: Electron, Firefly’s Alpha and ISRO’s own SSLV all stumbled for the first time.

Five working payloads and two talismans: EMBRACE, a robotic-arm demonstration by Cosmoserve Space aimed at grabbing space debris; the SOLARAS satellite from Grahaa Space; Skyroot’s own SCOPE experimental satellite; and two deployable-technology demonstrators, uD3PP and mD3RN, from the German firm Dcubed. Alongside flew a lab-grown diamond lotus and an 18-karat gold micro-rocket bearing rice-grain sculptures of Sarabhai, Raman and Kalam — the three names Skyroot gives its rockets and engines. The company has said that all the payloads have been deployed.

Who else is building private rockets in India?

No — and the rivalry may be the healthiest sign of all. Skyroot holds both of Indian private spaceflight’s firsts — the suborbital Vikram-S in November 2022, and now orbit with customer payloads. But Chennai’s AgniKul Cosmos, incubated at IIT Madras, runs a parallel course: its Agnibaan SOrTeD flew sub-orbitally in May 2024 from India’s first private launchpad, on the world’s first single-piece 3D-printed engine — a semi-cryogenic design burning liquid oxygen and kerosene, a propellant technology ISRO itself is still maturing. Having test-fired four Agnilet engines in cluster this May, and with former ISRO chairman S. Somanath joining its board, AgniKul is preparing Mission 02: a two-stage Agnibaan attempting India’s first sea recovery of an orbital-class booster, its upper stage staying alive in orbit as a working platform. Mission 02, in other words, aims at reusability — the technology that rewrote launch economics, and the next barrier Indian rockets must clear.

Since the 2020 reforms and IN-SPACe’s creation in 2022, India’s space startups have multiplied from a handful to more than 400, but until Saturday (July 18, 2026) they all needed ISRO’s rockets to fly. A private launcher turns ISRO from gatekeeper into landlord — and turns access to orbit from a national programme into a market. The small-satellite launch business is supply-starved worldwide; Skyroot pitches itself as a cab service to space. Saturday was only the the first ride.

Published – July 18, 2026 03:56 pm IST

The story so far: The Vikram-1 rocket, built by the Hyderabad firm Skyroot, shot through the sky a little past noon on July 18, 2026. The seven-storey rocket lifted off ISRO’s First Launch Pad at Sriharikota and, a little over fifteen minutes later, placed its payloads in an orbit roughly 450 km above the earth. The rocket was Aerospace, and the mission — named Aagaman, Sanskrit for “arrival” — made India only the third country, after the United States and China, whose private industry can reach orbit on its own launch vehicle.

Skyroot’s 3D-printed engine: What it is and why it matters

Rocket engines have traditionally been forged, machined, welded from dozens of parts. 3D printing, which engineers call additive manufacturing, inverts this. A laser fuses metal powder layer upon layer, building the part up from nothing. There are some real advantages to this approach. An engine printed as one piece sheds the bolts, seals and joints where conventional engines leak and fail; when Skyroot test-fired its Raman engine in 2020, it said the fully printed injector halved the mass and cut components and lead time by 80% against conventional manufacture.

Complex internal plumbing — the fine cooling channels that let Vikram-1’s regeneratively cooled engine chill itself with its own propellant — can be printed in shapes no drill can reach. Prototypes emerge in days, not months, so a startup can test, fail and redesign at a pace that would have been anathema to ISRO’s supplier chains. The downsides are subtler: peer-reviewed surveys of the field flag porosity, rough internal surfaces and batch-to-batch variability, and NASA has documented a printed copper combustion chamber failing on the test stand from degraded material quality. A printed engine, in short, is faster and lighter but demands obsessive quality control — the flaw hides inside the layers.

What is the significance of Vikram’s “all-carbon-composite” body?

If the engine is printed, the airframe is woven. Carbon-fibre composite — filaments of near-pure carbon set in resin — offers specific strength (strength per unit weight) many times that of aerospace aluminium or maraging steel; Skyroot claims a five-fold saving over the best rocket steel. Every kilogram of structure trimmed is a kilogram of satellite gained.

The American company, Rocket Lab’s Electron rocket, pioneered the approach and Vikram-1 follows it. The material also resists fatigue and corrosion and can be laid up by automated machines into seamless tubes — Vikram-1’s Stage-1 is India’s longest single-piece composite rocket stage. The disadvantages: the material and its curing infrastructure are expensive; its strength runs along the fibres, so a poorly designed laminate is strong one way and brittle another; and damage — a delamination from a knock in transport — can lurk invisibly beneath a perfect surface, demanding ultrasonic inspection where a dent in aluminium announces itself.

Is this comparable to ISRO’s PSLV?

In architecture, yes; in scale and philosophy, no. Both are four-stage expendable rockets that end in a restartable liquid stage for precise orbital insertion — Vikram-1’s Orbital Adjustment Module is a miniature cousin of the PSLV’s PS4. Both lean on India’s long mastery of solid propulsion. But the PSLV is a 44-metre, 320-tonne workhorse alternating solid and liquid stages to lift 1,750 kg to polar orbit; Vikram-1 is a 22-metre featherweight stacking three solid stages under its liquid module to carry 350 kg. The PSLV wears maraging steel; Vikram-1 wears carbon.

The nearer ISRO analogue is the SSLV, and there the comparison sharpens. The two are architectural twins: three solid stages capped by a small restartable liquid module, both conceived for small satellites on short notice. On raw capacity ISRO wins: SSLV lifts 500 kg to low earth orbit against Vikram-1’s 350. However Vikram’s all-carbon airframe is leaner than SSLV’s conventional casings, a printed engine line built for faster iteration, and — the deepest difference — institutions. SSLV was designed by the state and its production licensed to Hindustan Aeronautics Limited for ₹511 crore; Vikram-1 is owned outright by its maker, financed by venture capital, priced by the market.

Did Vikram-1’s maiden flight go as planned?

Almost to the second. Reports confirm every milestone was met, including the process called ‘long coast,’ a tricky phase for a debutant, which must hold attitude with nothing pushing it and, the final burn of the printed engine. For a maiden flight whose stated ambition was merely to clear the tower and gather data, reaching orbit is over-achievement: Electron, Firefly’s Alpha and ISRO’s own SSLV all stumbled for the first time.

What was aboard Vikram-1?

Five working payloads and two talismans: EMBRACE, a robotic-arm demonstration by Cosmoserve Space aimed at grabbing space debris; the SOLARAS satellite from Grahaa Space; Skyroot’s own SCOPE experimental satellite; and two deployable-technology demonstrators, uD3PP and mD3RN, from the German firm Dcubed. Alongside flew a lab-grown diamond lotus and an 18-karat gold micro-rocket bearing rice-grain sculptures of Sarabhai, Raman and Kalam — the three names Skyroot gives its rockets and engines. The company has said that all the payloads have been deployed.

Who else is building private rockets in India?

No — and the rivalry may be the healthiest sign of all. Skyroot holds both of Indian private spaceflight’s firsts — the suborbital Vikram-S in November 2022, and now orbit with customer payloads. But Chennai’s AgniKul Cosmos, incubated at IIT Madras, runs a parallel course: its Agnibaan SOrTeD flew sub-orbitally in May 2024 from India’s first private launchpad, on the world’s first single-piece 3D-printed engine — a semi-cryogenic design burning liquid oxygen and kerosene, a propellant technology ISRO itself is still maturing. Having test-fired four Agnilet engines in cluster this May, and with former ISRO chairman S. Somanath joining its board, AgniKul is preparing Mission 02: a two-stage Agnibaan attempting India’s first sea recovery of an orbital-class booster, its upper stage staying alive in orbit as a working platform. Mission 02, in other words, aims at reusability — the technology that rewrote launch economics, and the next barrier Indian rockets must clear.

Why does a private launch company matter?

Since the 2020 reforms and IN-SPACe’s creation in 2022, India’s space startups have multiplied from a handful to more than 400, but until Saturday (July 18, 2026) they all needed ISRO’s rockets to fly. A private launcher turns ISRO from gatekeeper into landlord — and turns access to orbit from a national programme into a market. The small-satellite launch business is supply-starved worldwide; Skyroot pitches itself as a cab service to space. Saturday was only the the first ride.

Published – July 18, 2026 03:56 pm IST

India’s first privately developed orbital-class rocket Vikram-1 at the first launch pad of the Satish Dhawan Space Centre in Sriharikota. File
| Photo Credit: The Hindu

India’s first privately developed orbital-class rocket Vikram-1 at the first launch pad of the Satish Dhawan Space Centre in Sriharikota. File
| Photo Credit: The Hindu