Disclaimer: This story is a work of fan fiction based on the concepts and settings inspired by SpaceX and its Mars mission endeavors. All characters, events, and scenarios depicted are entirely fictional and created for entertainment purposes only. The use of real-world entities, such as SpaceX, Elon Musk, or Starbase, is purely for creative inspiration and does not reflect any real events, individuals, or operations associated with these entities. No affiliation with or endorsement by SpaceX, Elon Musk, or any related organizations is implied or intended. The term "Citadel" and other original elements are products of the author's imagination and are not associated with any existing organizations or intellectual properties. This work is shared solely for the enjoyment of fans and readers.
P a r t 4
Outside it felt like some gigantic five year old psychopath was holding a magnifying glass between us and the Texas sun, roasting us like ants. But inside the immense Starbase simulator, Mars’ icy grip had me shivering. SpaceX had gone to great lengths to insure our sims were as realistic as possible, including the element of danger. It was difficult to believe that just outside the thin protective shield of our domed habitat the environment could extinguish us as easily right here on Earth as it could on the red planet.
Week six of training had commenced, and the dome’s artificial environment was dialed up to the worst-case-scenario setting. Dust storms raged across the faux-Martian landscape, visibility was reduced to a few feet, the temperature hovering at a “balmy” -100°F.
My spacesuit was now a lot less suffocating but still was like a second skin I hadn’t fully embraced. The suit’s portable life support system (PLSS) hissed softly as I trudged through the deep crimson sand. My camera, that sleek SpaceX prototype, was strapped tight to my chest, its lens continuously had to be brushed free of dust. Today’s drill was to locate and repair a breached oxygen line—all while a simulated storm raged. Failure meant not only simulated death but possibility of injury, and the instructors weren’t shy about reminding us how close these scenarios were getting to the real thing.
Amina was just steps ahead of me. Her silhouette, barely visible through the swirling red dust. Ji-hoon flanked my left, I could hear him in my headphones muttering what I’d guess were Korean curse words under his breath as he wrestled with a handheld scanner. Dr. Patel brought up the rear, her calm, steady presence a stark contrast to everything else.
Our unit was functioning nearly as one now, it’s almost like we could intuit each other’s every move but tension was still palpable. Yesterday’s drill had gone south quickly. Ji-hoon’s rover prototype short-circuited and then I’d botched an evacuation protocol. This earned me a sharp tongue-lashing from our mission commander, Torres. He was a grizzled, militaristic ex-NASA engineer who evoked fear in everyone around him.
“Walsh, you’re not filming a Goddamn indie flick,” he’d barked. “Do that on Mars and you’re a pink icicle."
This was a new day and I was determined not to make any more mistakes. My lens caught Amina’s gloved hands expertly tracing the oxygen line, her focus unshaken by the storm. I zoomed in on Ji-hoon’s scanner, its screen flickering as he recalibrated it. Dr. Patel’s voice crackled through my helmet comms, succinct and authoritative: “Evan, get me a wide shot of the habitat breach. We need to document the damage for our debrief.” I instinctively nodded, although no one could see it. Then I fluidly pivoted the lens to capture the jagged tear in the habitat’s outer shell, where our life-giving oxygen was venting into the airless void of the simulator.
The storm’s howl drowned out everything else, but a new sound cut through. It was a low, ominous rumble, like distant thunder. I froze in my tracks, camera still rolling. “That’s not part of the sim,” Ji-hoon said, his voice tight. Amina’s head snapped up, her eyes wide behind her visor. “Seismic?” she asked, half to herself. Torres’ voice broke through the comms, sharp and urgent: “Team Alpha, hold position. We’ve detected an anomaly, stand by for evac.”
Anomaly? My heart began slamming against my ribs as if it were trying to break free. The ground trembled beneath my boots, a subtle vibration that grew into a violent shudder. The entire structure was vibrating. I stumbled, catching myself on a rock outcropping as my camera swung wildly. “Evan, steady!” Dr. Patel shouted, grabbing my arm. The storm was clearing just enough to reveal the habitat—its breach now a gaping wound, metal curling outward like a flower in bloom. Something was wrong. This wasn’t a simulation glitch. This was real.
“Torres, what the hell’s happening?” I yelled into my comms, my voice cracking. Nothing but dead air and static in response. Amina was already moving, dragging Ji-hoon toward the habitat’s airlock. “We need to seal it manually!” she shouted.
I followed, my camera still recording, capturing the chaos in a frenzy of shaky frames. Dr. Patel was right behind me, her medical kit bouncing against her hip. The tremors shook us all again, harder this time, and a crack split the simulator’s floor, jagged and black, swallowing a sand dune like an hourglass.
Inside the habitat, the air was frantic with alarms. Ji-hoon dove for the control panel, his fingers flying over the touchscreen. “Line’s compromised,” he muttered. “If we don’t reroute the oxygen, this whole thing collapses on us.” Amina was already at the breach, wrestling with a patch kit, her movements precise despite the panic. I filmed it all, my lens darting between her steady hands and Ji-hoon’s furrowed brow. Dr. Patel knelt beside me, scanning for injuries, her voice calm but edged with I’d never heard from her—fear. “Evan, if this is a real breach, we’re in trouble. The simulator isn’t rated for this kind of stress.”
The realization hit me like a gut punch. The simulator wasn’t just mimicking Mars, it was in full failure. Something had gone catastrophically wrong and here we were, trapped inside. My mind raced to Elon’s message, his talk of shaping the narrative. How would this create public support? Mass casualties before we even left Earth?
“Got it!” Ji-hoon shouted, the panel beeping as the oxygen flow stabilized. Amina slammed the patch into place, sealing the breach with a hiss. For a moment, we thought we’d won. Then the lights flickered, and a new alarm blared—a high-pitched wail that made my stomach drop. Torres’ voice finally broke through, distorted and frantic: “Team Alpha, evac now! Structural failure imminent! Get to the airlock!”
We sprinted, my camera bouncing, capturing fragments of the collapsing dome—cracks spiderwebbing across the ceiling, sand pouring in like water. Amina reached the airlock first, yanking the manual override. Ji-hoon was next, shoving Dr. Patel ahead of him. I was last, my lungs burning, my exhalation fogging my visor. The airlock door hissed open, and we piled inside, hearts pounding as the outer world crumbled.
Through the airlock’s tiny window, was chaos and danger like I’d never experienced before in my life. So dire, so real. My camera was still rolling, its red light glowing in the dark, capturing the exact moment everything changed. This was when whatever shred of naive certainty I had left in me began to evaporate.
As the door sealed behind us second thoughts exploded in my brain and I could see from the faces around me I wasn’t alone. Ji-hoon, hyperventilating, popped his visor and slid down the wall, resting his head atop his knees. Amina rushed to his aid.
The comms crackled again, and this time, it wasn’t mission commander Torres. It was a voice I recognized immediately, Musk himself. “Starbase, this is Control. We have a situation. An unauthorized breach in our Starlink connection has been detected in Sector 7. All teams stand by for complete lockdown and immediate disconnect from Colossus. I’d like you all to get out of those suits for a debrief in fifteen.”
The next quarter hour seemed like an eternity, time expanding as the adrenaline dump started to subside. Fear was being washed away by exhaustion. As soon as we changed, all 99 of us quickly filed down to the debriefing room. Elon was already there standing on the small round stage in front of the lecture hall. His arms were casually crossed, hand stroking his chin, and he wore a puzzled look on his face. Torres was right by his side.
“Please quickly take your seats everyone.” Torres barked, his face a ashen white.
Elon leaned over and whispered something intelligible into his ear then Torres made a hasty exit.
“First off, I want to personally apologize for today.” Elon said, with more emotion in his face than I’d ever seen in any of his interviews. “I’d also like to remind you all of the NDA’s you’ve signed. Any leak of what just happened will result in your removal from the mission.” He paced from side to side on the tight, circular stage. “The real world, you know, the one most people are shielded from, is filled with unimaginable chaos. You all have experienced some of that first-hand today. We’ve discovered an unknown hacker breached our sim’s server connection introducing malware, causing today’s critical malfunction. There are certain, very powerful geopolitical factions who wish our Mars mission to fail. It’s our job to stay as many steps ahead of them as possible. As frightening as this all has been, they’ve inadvertently done us a favor. They’ve exposed a previously unknown vulnerability in the Starlink connection with Colossus and that has already been rectified. I promise you, we will continue to do everything possible to keep you safe. Thank you all! Great job everyone, I mean it. Now get some well-deserved rest.”
With that, Elon was whisked away by a pair of jumpsuit-clad assistants who stood lurking about in the doorway.
I sat there completely numb, not even knowing what to think or to feel. As I looked around to scan the faces around the room it was clear that the whole team was engulfed in the same emotions I was.
Sabotage.
The only thought my brain could begin to formulate was in the form of a question—What the holy hell have I gotten myself into?
To be continued…
