Mars mission to Iceland – Part 5

“With all due respect, sir, I believe this is gonna be our finest hour”

*** MASTER ALARM – CODE 003 ***

After two long and very productive EVAs, our surface operations were hampered by one of our field laptops deciding it’d had enough. And not just a “have you tried turning it off and on again?” problem either. In the warm of our habitat, our Chief Engineer burned the midnight oil taking apart the entire thing, re-soldering the likely culprit BIOS, but unfortunately to no avail. So we went to bed at 1 am (in broad daylight) knowing that the next day we’d be one instrument down in the field.


*** MASTER ALARM – CODE 002 ***

This is no piffling 1201 alarm code. Or even a 1202 for that matter. The Rover has died.

In a startlingly similar way to the laptop, we came to start up this morning and there was nothing. The best we could get out of the Beast was a few clicks and deathly dial twitches. Flat battery. I really need to brush up on my Icelandic swear words. Nothing was left on overnight, so this is a bit of a mystery. But not to worry, our very kind landlord found some jump leads and we docked to his rover. The only result was smoke pouring out of the relay box, or at least nearby, leading to a hasty undocking manoeuvre. So it’s all over for rover. A replacement has launched from Reyjavik and we are awaiting its landing.



With our run of bad luck at this stage of the mission, this has really hit morale hard. Or at least our glasses. We’re out of gin.

“We shall stick it out to the end, but we are getting weaker, of course, and the end cannot be far.”