Crisis on Earth
The 2020s were rough, but the next decade was even worse. More wars, political polarization and sputtering growth. And yeah, the billionaires only grew more powerful.
But for our story in Mars Tactics, the key thing is what happened with energy. Global oil and gas markets began fracturing with the wars in Eastern Europe and the Middle East. Exports of solar, wind and nuclear components became restricted on national security concerns. In the new normal, geopolitics trumped market dynamics. All of this collided with long-term trends pushing energy demand higher.
The surge in energy prices decimated global trade and accelerated the destruction of state finances. Inevitably, one day in the late 2030s, government bond markets seized up one by one. Confidence in fiat debt was rocked to the core. And a global economic depression followed.
All illustrations here by Zohei Tanabe.
It's against this doom-and-gloom backdrop that the long-forgotten soil samples from Mars finally returned home. For decades, our rovers and orbiters had surveyed the red planet. But it wasn't until researchers on Earth could deploy all their scientific tools that they noticed something strange in the regolith: some Martian rocks exhibited powerful but stable magnetic fields.
Suspecting a new kind of superconducting material, scientists dubbed it Areomagnic Fluxite. The press and influencers just called it Flux for short. (Previously, some guy incorrectly called it Redox.) Research labs around the world began one-upping each other to see how much energy could be placed inside these magnetic fields. Pretty soon, they achieved energy densities hundreds of times greater than existing chemical batteries.
The implications were Earth-shattering. With better batteries, we didn't need fusion or dyson spheres. Existing technologies were more than enough. Deep-offshore wind farms. Subterranean geothermal plants. Remote fission reactors. Solar farms splashed across the deserts. All of it became practical with batteries that could transport energy economically from remote areas to end consumers. The smart grid of the future wasn't crystals and lasers. It's just tons and tons of efficient batteries.
Space Gold Rush
Overnight, governments and corporations across the world began mobilizing mining missions to Mars. Flux could be the miracle solution to our energy and economic woes. Preparations focused on the next Mars transfer window in 2043, when distance to the red planet would be shortest.
But as everyone geared up for a long race, someone launched a surprise test-flight: Lodestar Corporation. The company had been developing ion rocketry for decades. Flux batteries supercharged their proprietary tech, putting Lodestar in the perfect position.
Established rivals scoffed at the newcomer, but doubters were quickly silenced. Even at a comfortable 1G burn, Lodestar's test-rocket reached Mars in less than 10 days. The space gold rush was over before it began. The winner had been crowned.
Most (but not all) nations rallied around Lodestar. The U.N. awarded the company a mining charter for a region on Mars. Supply contracts for Flux began pouring in. Nevermind that Lodestar had zero experience in resource extraction. We chose to believe the feel-good story we desperately needed: the Lodestar guys were our genius saviors. The company cashed in on the vibes and the hype, raising hundreds of billions in an IPO to fund their Mars build-out.
Edge Cases
Lodestar's inaugural mission blasted off in record time. The plan was for hundreds of drones and robots to lay the groundwork on Mars and begin mining, while dozens of humans monitored remotely from nearby outposts.
But things went sour from the get-go. We've never been to Mars, much less collected data there for training robots. So Lodestar prepared its bots in simulations on Earth. And these sims were a disaster, failing to capture critical edge cases. (It didn't help that training was a rush job to please investors eager to stay ahead of rivals.)
So on Mars, the bots struggled with everything. Martian geology confused the drilling machines. Nav systems failed when facing terrain and lighting conditions not found in their datasets. Electrostatic caused calibration drift in the actuators. Motors overheated in the thin atmosphere. And teleoperations were a total mess thanks to sensors polluted by radiation noise and magnetic dust.
Re-training the bots remotely from Earth would take months or years due to poor bandwidth and lag between the two planets. Doing it locally would require building data centers on Mars and convincing pampered AI engineers to relocate to the harsh frontier.
The Great Pivot
As setbacks began pummeling Lodestar's stock price, executives quickly pivoted to their only real option: human labor. Forget the bots. Send in the malleable fleshy things. The second mission was all-human. Same for the third. And the fourth. And so on.
Executives announce the great pivot to analysts. Stock rips +22%. (Work-in-progress illustration.)
Except all the mining protocols were designed around bots, which are replaceable. Retooling operations to account for human safety would take time. The company was already behind schedule. Shareholders expected Flux shipments. And rivals would arrive on Mars eventually.
So executives marshalled a push to just get going. Bonuses, quotas, peer pressure, intimidation, and every other trick in the book to get more bodies in the mines. Safety concerns were waved off. Workers were told to learn on the job. Managers instilled bravado and a frontier mentality. Are you tough enough for Mars?
Miners rose to the challenge. And Flux shipments started to flow. But it was bloodbath. Workers perished in every way you can imagine. Shaft collapses. Suit punctures. Equipment malfunctions. Dust sickness. Freezing to death. Decompression accidents. Mental breakdowns.
Back on Earth, Lodestar's PR team sprang into action. Instead of covering up the fatalities, they leaned into them. Each dead miner was celebrated as a martyr. A legit real-life hero who died for Earth. And the public ate it up. Everyone already accepted that Mars was dangerous. The same way we honor firefighters without really questioning how or why they died. Don't worry about all that. Enjoy a good cry and hit the like button.
Nothing to Lose
But on Mars, martyrdom was the last thing on anyone's mind. Workers felt scared. And trapped. Quitting was not an option. Buried deep in the employment contract was the 3-year clause: if you didn't finish your term, you were on the hook for the millions it would cost to ship you home.
Without regulators or the press or anyone else to turn to on Mars, organization was the only path forward for workers. And so, Mars First Labor Union was born. The union demanded workplace safety. Proper training. Better equipment. Geological surveys. Med bays. More down time between shifts. Re-negotiated work contracts.
Mars First!
The demands were reasonable. But the company didn't fall for it. Give labor organizers an inch, and they'll take the planet. And with people on Earth eager for affordable air conditioning, executives calculated the public would support a harsher stance. After all, Martian miners were well compensated for the risk. Earth is in dire straits. Suck it up and get to work.
So the union was crushed. Its leaders punished. Worker comms on Mars were restricted. Video messages to families back home were scrubbed by compliance agents. (All traffic between the two planets ran through the company's satellite network.) More corporate security arrived on Mars each week. Strikes and sit-ins were forcefully ended. Suck it up and get back to work.
The crackdown was effective. And Flux shipments picked up. But workers adapted too. They established secret radio frequencies. Developed underground resistance networks. Some began tinkering with battery-powered coilguns. And the more ambitious ones began dreaming bigger. It's one thing to seize the means of production. It's another to seize an epoch-defining technology.
Everyone could feel a looming showdown. The stink of animosity was in the walls. The only question was what would set it off. What would be the spark.
WHICH SIDE ARE YOU ON???
So that's what happened leading up to the start of the game. But I want to stress that your faction and the enemy's faction are BOTH fully customizable. Name, logo, stock ticker, etc can all be changed. Mars First and Lodestar are just the default names. Their country origins and other details aren't stressed too hard in pre-made cutscenes and stuff. Basically, the sandbox tries to not get in the way of whatever revolutionary or counter-revolutionary fantasy you have in your head.
Mars First Labor Union
As the labor faction, you begin right where this story ends. The opening "tutorial" mission is a worker riot where you seize your first outpost. What you do after that is up to you. Fight your way off the planet and expose the corporation's crimes? Capitalize Flux for your own gains? Something else entirely? At early access launch, there will be 3.5 endings for the labor faction. If the game is successful, I plan to add more endings to reflect more socioeconomic paths.
What makes the labor faction unique:
You can design coilguns powered by Flux batteries. These weapons are manufactured via local supply chains on Mars.
Workers and soldiers do not expect to be paid a salary in the early stages of the conflict (until you make contact with Earth). And depending on which ideologies you adopt, you can abolish the concept of wage labor completely.
At the beginning of the campaign, the people on Mars are more sympathetic to your cause. That makes local recruitment of soldiers and spies easier.
You begin cut off from Earth diplomacy. By the time you make contact, most nations have a negative opinion of you.
Secret.
Lodestar Corp.
As the capital faction, the story begins a few weeks later. Lodestar executives on Earth initially dismiss the uprising as just more unrest. But when things really spin out of control, they call you in as the new Director of Mars Operations. By the time you arrive on Mars, the rebels have captured large chunks of company territory. So you begin the campaign on the backfoot. After that, it's up to you to obey or ignore shareholder interests. At EA launch, capital will have 3 endings.
What makes the capital faction unique:
If you do as you're told, the entire might of Lodestar Corporation is at your disposal. Research teams on Earth can boost tech progress. PR can assist manipulating public opinion. Procurement department can deliver equipment for cheap.
Whatever you can't procure internally, you can buy on Earth's markets. Guns, mercs, vehicles, building prefabs, etc. Markets open up a lot of strategic freedom from the get go. Hire one elite sniper? Sure. Hire a bunch of cheap grunts? Up to you. The only limit is your operating budget.
You start the campaign having already made diplomatic contact with Earth nations. Keeping them on your side is critical for mid and late-game progress.
The hardest research topic in the game is fixing the robots. Capital begins the campaign with this topic already partially completed. So if you choose to pursue automation, you have a shorter path to having bots replace humans both in the mines and on the battlefield.
Secret.
Thanks for reading this gigantic wall of text to the end. I have zero experience with creative writing, so if you have feedback let me know. I'm not exactly trying to tell a story. I just want to set the scene and let you tell your own stories in the sandbox.
Yuji (MH)