Gods of War
Mars was a wasteland.
Despite terraforming, despite colonization, despite everything the fourth planet of the Solar System allowed, Mars was still a wasteland. Not from war, despite its namesake, but from time. Once, it had been a verdant world, the signs of rain and oceans still visible. But while rain and oceans were once again present on the world, it was a "shallow" image of what had come before.
Mars was a wasteland. A wasteland currently engaged in a food shortage. And now, despite 25th century technology, despite the actions of the United Earth Space Council, there was no end in sight, no end to the line that led to the Misriah Food Distribution Centre.
The Martians frowned as thunder bellowed in the dusty red sky, making the nearby Olympus Mons look like the proverbial Zeus, directing the storm against the humans below. Such rain could have been used months early, back when the Martian colony was officially able to feed itself rather than relying on foodstuffs allocated by the UESC on a regular but stingy basis. Stark contrast to the rain really, which came down in a torrent.
Neither form of allocation was particularly preferable. Hungry people didn't like being wet.
The line surged forward. The people were hungry, Mars was living up to its namesake somewhat via sadism and the riot troopers weren't making things any easier. Searchlights switched on around Misriah while guards and AIs alike pleaded for calm, but the effect was negligible. As the spirits of Ares warred in the heavens, humanity mirrored his actions on the Red Planet. Thousands, tens of thousands...to the UESC, it didn't matter. These people owed their allegiance to Earth. They'd fought for every patch of space beyond Sol III and they'd be damned if ungrateful dissidents were going to push them around.
Figuratively, that was. They were already pushing against its troops literally...
The line of guards was strained as much as the citizens' bellies. The AI's CPU was being stretched to the limit and Rampancy didn't seem so far off anymore. Nor did the gunship steadily approaching the distribution centre, its searchlights and magnified calls for calm doing nothing to sway the rioters from their destructive actions. Something had to give. The tides of humanity couldn't war forever. Not even on Mars.
As such, the command was given. Who it was promptly covered up, but it might as well have been Ares for all intents and purposes. Only the God of War could have given the order for the riot troopers to open fire, demonstrating the refined methods of killing that humanity had developed over the centuries. Although Man had brought life to the red world, death had been brought as well.
And in an instant, Mars lived up to its namesake.
A/N (2009, July 17)
I've come to realize that this depiction of the Misriah Massacre is very inaccurate, as per the info the terminals provide-info that I didn't possess in detail until well after this story was written. Many apologies to all the lore fans out there. :(