Anon- Memories of the Mars Revolution

                                                                     Our Red Planet


Memories of the Martian Revolution
Foreword by Commissar Callum Donovan
As our planet Mars, formally known as the Martian Democratic Republic, celebrates the fiftieth anniversary of the revolution that gave this desert world independence, we have compiled interviews of the surviving guerrilla fighters who stood up to Earth’s exploitation and drove out our oppressors. Their stories are those of courage and triumph, heroism and sacrifice, and occasionally those of tragedy and loss.


The Empire
In order to put our revolution into perspective, one must know how, and why it began. When humans first landed on Mars, Earth was still split into separate nations and territories. Humanity realized that in order to conquer the cosmos mankind must unite as one, so the United Nations began their campaign to form a world government. There was some resistance, as there always is to change, but it was crushed beneath the jackboot of the UN. Naturally, the United States took the reins of the operation. Millions of military personnel stormed nations around the world, forcefully assimilating anywhere they landed into their new government.
“I remember when the soldiers came. I was only a child but I recall vividly; their leering faces as they jeered at me, how they kicked me about with their heavy boots, how they threatened me with their guns and robbed me of the food I had bought only minutes before. They ordered me to lead them to my home, and having no other choice, started making my way there. Once we arrived, they told me to knock on the door for my parents. As I obliged they stepped to the sides of the door as to conceal themselves from anyone inside. When the door opened the soldiers directed me inside, where I was to sit at the table and say nothing as they prepared to make their entrance. My father walked downstairs to greet me, but before he could say a word he was met with the harsh glaring of the men. They seized him violently, beating his face and chest. I begged them to leave him alone but one of them coerced me into the corner with the barrel of his rifle. As I sat staring into the walls I heard them speak. Their words were foreign, but I could tell they were speaking english. One man shouted at my father in our language, ‘Get up, onto your feet. Come with us’ he said. When my father struggled to stand the man lifted him by the back of his coat and shoved him out the door, yelling for him to hurry up. The soldiers went out after him until the last man shut the door behind him. I wanted to follow them, I wanted to know what my father had done, but I was injured and already weakened by my hunger. If I had known what their leaders had planned I would have gladly died right there.”
Alan Singh


The cruelty of this new regime did not become such overnight. For decades the United States had been militarizing heavily. They insisted on having the most advanced weapons, vehicles, and equipment. The schools taught war, the media advertised war, and military service was required for public office of any kind. Americans, over generations, were taught to eat, sleep, and breathe war. Atrocities were erased and triumphs were embellished, parades flaunting new tanks, new helicopters, and new missiles were a common sight in any major city. However, being a superpower did not satisfy their President. The United Empire was officially declared after the assassinations of all UN officials and cabinet members, leaving only the President and the Vice President to seize power over the world stage. This new Emperor claimed that he would elevate humanity to a golden age, and that only under his reign they would eventually conquer the entire galaxy. This Emperor was a rather young man, a former Marine, who grew to love war more than the rest of his brothers in arms. He treated the concept of conflict and violence with a strange eroticism that eventually infected all under his command.

“I personally saw the Emperor speak. He raised his powerful arms and raised his voice to that of a god’s. ‘No longer are we a world of petty nations or races, no longer shall we fight over scraps while overlooking the bounty right under our noses. The UN could never really unite us. We shall unite as the Romans did: by force. The Galaxy is ripe for the taking, it is our birthright to spread the wonder that is humanity throughout the stars.’ At the time I remember getting chills at the thought of such glory we could hold, how proud I was to be a soldier of this New Empire, but I witnessed the cost firsthand when my men and I arrived at a base in Beijing. We flew in via helicopter early in the morning. I remember getting the feeling that something was wrong, but I couldn’t tell what it was. I asked the man next to me and he told me not to worry, that it was just nerves, that all we were doing was weeding out some Communist resistance. Our target was Tiananmen Square, where the Communists had deeply entrenched themselves, prepared for a siege. We made our way from the base easily enough, until about halfway through when the lead vehicle was rattled by a small IED. It wasn’t seriously damaged so we drove on. Eventually the lead split off onto another road after some frantic radio chatter and we were given orders to continue to the square. We exited the vehicle and readied ourselves for the fight to come. As we walked through the streets towards the square a few men made small talk, some of them even telling jokes. We all went silent when we reached the bridge, though. In plain English, “CHINA DIED FIGHTING” read in massive red letters painted above the entrance. Past the gate, you could see a solitary flagpole with the former Chinese flag rippling defiantly in the wind.

Excited by the impressive sight, we pushed on, anticipating an intense battle. Instead, standing in front of a network of trenches and bunkers, were men, women, and even a few children, no older than 14. They stood arm in arm, forming a wall with their bodies. What happened next caught me off guard: they began to sing. In unison, they sung loudly, even with their voices strained from shouting they kept on until we fired our weapons. Only one was still alive. The woman lifted herself into a sitting position and stared into my eyes with an anger I have never known. She spoke only four words in broken English “Give us our home” before she fell back down, now as cold and silent as the ground she lay on. After this display, we moved onward to clear the bunkers. What people we found were already dead; They had all committed suicide rather than give us the satisfaction of killing them. The dreams still haunt me, and rightfully so."
-Cpl Jacob Walker