[ WP ] We finally get men on Mars and they discover an old Soviet flag placed down decades ago . The Soviets won the space race but for whatever horrifying reason did n't say anything .

`` Andrews, do you read me? Over.'' 
 
 `` I read you. Over.'' 
 
 `` What's going on? I need a status report every thirty minutes. Over.'' 
 
 Andrews would have slapped himself if any part of his body could reach his face right now. Of course, those god-awful status report protocols! It's not like he was doing anything exerting or anything. Andrews sighed, and clicked the `` record'' and `` transmit'' buttons, located on the convenient space between his thumb and his index finger. 
 
 `` Status report, Earth time 3:24 AM, December twenty-second, 2060. Climbing is n't made any easier by the lower gravity here. I've managed to find a spot with relatively solid footing, and I've been resting for the past minute or so. End status report.'' 
 
 `` Acceptable, Andrews. Continue, but for the mission's sake, remember to make your status reports! Out.'' 
 
 Easy for her to say. She's just been sitting in Mission Control back at base, looking at a bunch of computer screens and going to the break room every thirty minutes to browse archived Buzzfeed articles while doing a status report about how her job is `` extremely difficult, but it's worth it to see the future of humanity up close.'' 
 
 `` Future of humanity, my ass.'' 
 
 Andrews had decided he had had enough rest for one Mars day. 
 
 `` Alright, continuing climb. Over.'' 
 
 `` Acknowledged. Out.'' 
 
 Andrews, absent-mindedly continuing to climb, didn ’ t realize that he had touched something cylindrical and metal, jutting out of the cliff. When he used it as a handhold to reach a higher rock, the metal began to slide out of the cliff. Andrews did n't realize that his handhold had given way until he was 25 feet down, falling. 
 
 `` Oof. Damn it. Control, I'm --'' 
 
 Andrews cut himself off when he realized that his long-range transmitter had broken his fall. He was n't in contact with Control or any of the other surveyors. 
 
 `` Well...'' Andrews continued, fully aware he was talking to nobody, `` I *could* walk all the way back to base and scrap all this perfectly good data, or I could *not do that. *'' 
 
 
 
 Andrews decided to continue. 
 
 Turning around, back to the cliff face, he noticed something odd and slightly disturbing. 
 
 Part of it was opening. 
 
 As the door at the bottom of the cliff face opened, some of the rocks began giving way, crumbling and falling down the cliff. Andrews noticed something at the very top of the cliff lose its foundation and come falling down towards him. He stepped aside to avoid the uniform cylinder of metal. It almost looked like... 
 
 *a flagpole. * 
 
 The piece of cloth that was attached had been covered in the trademark red dust that covered the planet. Andrews, wiping off the dust, noticed that the cloth underneath was also red. A hammer and sickle was emblazoned on it. It was a Soviet flag. 
 
 `` What the hell is a Soviet flag doing on Mars? Did one of the surveyors bring it as a joke? No, this flag looks... older.'' 
 
 The door opened fully. 
 
 Andrews stepped into a tiny room which he recognized as an airlock. He should have expected that the door would close behind him and the room would refill with air. 
 
 `` Damn it all. I guess I'll have to wait to get back to base. Although... I have a feeling this is more important.'' 
 
 `` Кто здесь? Кто открыл воздушный шлюз?'' 
 
 `` That was... that was Russian. Someone lives here.'' 
 
 For some reason, Andrews wanted to shout `` Don ’ t worry! I do n't want to hurt you!'' But he knew perfectly well that the Russian was unlikely to understand. Andrews tried to quietly round the corner, and immediately backed into the Russian. 
 
 `` Ah!'' 
 
 `` ОН ДЕРЬМО ОН Ебать ХРИСТОС!'' 
 
 The Russian, shaking, aimed her tiny pistol at Andrews, and as Andrews prepare to be shot, he realized something. 
 
 `` That gun... it's old. Like, really old. It's so rusty that no amount of cleaning could make it work again. It's World War Two era at least.'' 
 
 The Russian, realizing that she had no way to use violence to solve his problems, nor was that the way to solve them, threw away the gun. 
 
 `` Этот знак на вашем костюме является флагом Соединенных Штатов. Вы американец, я правильно?'' 
 
 Andrews understood exactly one word in that sentence. Anglicized, it would be `` amerikanets.'' 
 
 `` Uh, yes. I come from the United States of America.'' 
 
 `` Ой.'' 
 
 `` Look, we need some translation. Do you have a way of translating?'' 
 
 `` Какие?'' 
 
 `` Oh, right. Russian.'' 
 
 Andrews gestured with his hands in a movement implying speech. 
 
 `` О, нам нужен переводчик. У меня есть компьютер, если он вам нужен.'' 
 
 `` A'komp'yuter?' Good. Take me to it.'' 
 
 The Russian led Andrews along a narrow passage into a massive room full of machinery, which Andrews recognized, after a moment, as computers from the late 1990s. Reminded him of one of Dahlia's old Buzzfeed articles. `` Only 90s Kids will get this!'' Joke's on you, Buzzfeed. The 90s kids are in their 60s now. 
 
 The Russian, typing furiously on one of the keyboards, brought up some translation software. 
 
 `` Thank you.'' said Andrews. 
 
 `` Вы могли бы, по крайней мере меня благодарить.'' 
 
 `` My.... name is... Michael Andrews. I... arrived from.... Earth.... twenty days ago.'' 
 
 The Russian read the message and responded. 
 
 `` My name is Alexandrina Pajari. I was born March 23, 2032.'' said the message. 
 
 Andrews looked at her, shocked. 
 
 `` You're saying you were born here, on Mars?'' 
 
 Alexandrina looked condescendingly at him, then gestured to the keyboard. 
 
 `` Right. Type it.'' 
 
 After thirty minutes of elaborate translation and retranslation, the overall story, as Andrews had heard it, was that in the 90s, her great-grandfather as well as several others had arrived on Mars. After the Soviet Union collapsed, they realized that they were the last true Soviets and decide that a true colony needed to be established, with farms and a self-sustaining ecosystem. So they grew their food in Mars dirt and lived off of the slightly malnourished vegetables that resulted, for 50 years, until one left on an expedition and never returned. Another left to find them, and they never came back either. One by one, they all left and never returned, until it was only Alexandrina. 
 
 Andrews, who was so absorbed in learning the story behind this place, had n't realized that the other surveyors were probably panicking because he had n't radioed in. 
 
 `` Do.. you... have a... long-range transmitter.... I could use?'' 
 
 Alexandrina led him to the storage room, in which was stowed years' worth of potatoes and leeks, and one of exactly what he was looking for. Plugging in into his suit, he turned it to the correct channel and pressed the `` transmit'' button. 
 
 `` This is Michael Andrews. It looks like we have a new addition to the crew.'' 
 
 This is my first time doing one of these.
