A spectre hangs over Mars. Whispers in the spaceports, as the workers board the ships to the asteroid mines and factories. Whispers in the factories planetside. The Red Planet is a hard place for the labourers at their labour, producing for the men of Earth. In the residential units, widows and orphans without enough money to return to earth are reduced to begging or sweatshop labour. Rich liberals hear of this and visit Mars from time to time, trying to give aid, but the salvation of the wretches of Mars lies not in condescending liberals who benefit from the very things they find distasteful. It can only lie in the Martian workers. The Spectre is known among the governments and capital of Earth, and they have raised police presence on Mars, trying to stop it in its path. But progress can never be stopped, not forever, and you know that this time it will not be crushed. Tonight, you have been invited to a secret meeting in a dimly-lit dormitory. A red flag hangs over the group. Tonight is the first night of the Martian Revolution.