Martian Settlement: The Fight For Mars

Prologue

2039

First humans arrive on Mars in the ion-engined Andromeda 1. A small tuna can settlement is built to house these four astronauts and future ones.

2045

First wave of colonists arrive on Mars aboard the Martian Pioneer, a large solar sail-powered spacecraft capable of housing up to 120 astronauts as well as enough supplies to keep them alive for a year. The Martian Settlement is founded on Mars and the Terrestrial Support Agency for the Martian Settlement (TESAMAS) is founded on Earth to support the Martian Settlement to the point of complete self-sustainability.

2055

Mining begins on Mars to compensate for the rapidly dwindling supply of rare-earth metals on Earth, especially ones used to make electronic parts such as silicon.

12th April 2062

Planning begins for a Martian equivalent of the 1997 Kyoto Protocol.

20th May 2062 (Present Day)

Location: TESAMAS HQ, Houston, United States

TESAMAS second-in-command Jordan Hesley stared into the dark expanse of TESAMAS Headquarter's database centre. Rows of jet black servers with blinking lights of mainly red, green or yellow surrounded him on every side. He took a good look around the database centre as well as his eyes could see. He saw no one, not even robotic guards or cleaners. There were no visible security measures, apart from the CCTV cameras connected to TESAMAS HQ's security room via IoT methods that he had already disabled. It was ironic that one of the most important buildings on the planet was so poorly protected.

Must be budget cuts.

He had heard rumours about sabotage of the Martian Settlement. Sabotage by corporations that benefited from the mining of rare-earth metals on Mars. Corporations that were linked somehow to TESAMAS. As a firm believer in the importance of the Martian Settlement for humanity, he decided to risk his profession, rank and probably even his life to expose and warn the Martian Settlement of the impending danger upon them. As TESAMAS's second-in-command, he knew for a fact that all sensitive information was kept in server 43.

He counted down the servers, slowly making his way towards the one black box that would decide the fate of humanity and 1000 people. At last he reached server 43. He took out his SlatePC slid out the data-transfer/charging stick and inserted it into one of the many ports that lined the server. A fingerprint scan was immediately prompted.

He pressed his index finger over the circle where his SlatePC's in-screen fingerprint sensor lay. The screen flashed a bright green and showed the words "Access Granted".

Those were the perks you got from being a second-in-command at TESAMAS.

He scrolled through the many files on the server. One caught his eye. It wasn't properly labelled like the others and its title was an ambiguous acronym that read MSFRRM.

He clicked on the file. Another fingerprint scan was prompted. He pressed his index finger over his SlatePC's fingerprint sensor.

Access denied.

He then clicked a few icons on his SlatePC and transferred a malware into the server. The malware destroyed all layers of protection of the file and he opened the file as if it was not even password protected. He had coded the malware himself, using the knowledge he had gained from his days as a software engineer ten years ago.

What he found knocked the breath out of his lungs. There were elaborate plans of sabotage, assassination and cover-up all in the interest of preventing the Martian Environmental Treaty set to be signed in four days.

The situation is way worse than I ever thought it would be. Assassination? Sabotage? Cover ups?

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see security guards entering the database. Maybe I slipped up on some part of that malware.

He copied the file to his SlatePC and prepared it to be sent to the head of the Martian Settlement, Jack Harrington. He could hear the pounding of footsteps growing louder and louder. A door was yanked open. Before he could react, a shot rang out, nearly clipping his ear. He dropped and rolled.

A security guard yanked him by the arm. He punched the guard with all his might, sending the guard staggering back. Another guard came up behind him and knocked him to the ground. The SlatePC clattered to the ground, out of his grip. A bullet was shot into his back. Clearly, the guards were instructed to kill. Blood oozed out of the wound. Black spots swam before his eyes, his vision constricting. Using his remaining strength, he crawled towards the SlatePC and clicked the 'send' icon.

He allowed himself on last moment to stare at the notification on the screen of the SlatePC.

"Transmission successful".

To him, it was the most beautiful and reassuring sight that he had ever seen and he could die in peace knowing that he had tried all he could to save Mars.

His crumpled to the ground, breathing his last.