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The future is red

Bare Minimum for a Shelter on Mars

  • Writer: Icarus
    Icarus
  • May 23
  • 3 min read

What it really takes to survive a night between Martian outposts.


Welcome to The Mars Chronicles—a character-driven sci-fi saga about the first permanent human settlements on Mars. It explores not just technology and survival, but the fragile, often forbidden alliances that form in the shadows of old Earth conflicts.


One such story unfolds in the American zone—a corporate-run mining settlement built on speed and efficiency. But the further its convoys pushed into the Martian frontier, the clearer it became: survival required more than independence. It needed cooperation.


Officially, cooperation was banned. Back on Earth, the U.S., China, Russia, and the EU were locked in open hostility. But out here, in the dust and vacuum, politics took a back seat. Engineers quietly exchanged spare parts. Russian truckers left coded notes. And between the settlements, anonymous shelters began to appear—neutral, unregistered, and absolutely essential.


This post looks at the bare minimum required to make one of these shelters work. They’re small, simple, and sometimes illegal—but they save lives every day.



A hyperrealistic digital image of a basic Mars airlock built into a rugged red rock formation at the edge of a cave. The compact, fabric-lined airlock chamber is open, revealing coiled tubing and LED lighting inside. Control panels with warning labels are mounted on either side of the entrance. A small orange basketball rests casually against the right side of the airlock, adding a touch of human presence to the barren Martian landscape stretching into the dusty, mountainous background.
Lightweight structure airlock at the entrance


1. Pressurized Habitation Chamber


Mars' atmosphere is barely 1% the pressure of Earth’s. Fortunately, this means that the planet’s infamous dust storms carry very little force. You won’t find gale-force winds or flying rocks—despite what the movies suggest.


As a result, even lightweight structures—like inflatable domes or composite-fiber tents—can hold internal pressure, so long as they’re precisely engineered and sealed. Most are double-walled, reinforced, and quickly buried in regolith for added insulation and stability. Structural mass matters less than airtight reliability.



A hyperrealistic digital image depicting the interior of a Mars cave shelter at night. In the foreground, a woman sleeps peacefully in a dark sleeping bag near a glowing orange heat lamp. The rocky cave walls curve above her, casting deep shadows. In the background, a low metal table is set with mugs, plates, and utensils—remnants of a recent meal. Additional sleeping bags are scattered nearby under a bright LED strip attached to the cave ceiling, illuminating the space with a cool white light. The scene conveys a quiet, survival-oriented atmosphere in a remote off-world refuge.
Just enough to keep people alive


2. Power Supply & Storage


With sunlight unreliable and no grid to fall back on, shelters rely on hybrid power setups. Foldable solar panels supply basic energy during the day, while lithium-ion or thermal batteries keep systems running at night or during storms.


But when everything else fails, there's always the backup: manual kinetic generators—crank or pedal-powered devices that let stranded travelers generate just enough electricity to send an emergency signal or restart life-support systems. Primitive? Yes. Essential? Absolutely.


A hyperrealistic digital image showing the interior of a large Mars shelter carved into reddish cave rock. The ceiling is supported by minimal infrastructure, with overhead LED lighting casting a cool glow across the space. On the left, metal shelving units are filled with spare parts, containers, and tools. A long metal worktable dominates the center, with a solar panel, maintenance tools, and documents laid out. At the back, rugged life-support machines labeled for oxygen and power generation are connected by thick black cables. On the right wall, several arched doorways lead to additional rooms. The atmosphere is organized, utilitarian, and designed for survival in harsh Martian conditions.
Shelters act as life-sustaining stockpiles: water, oxygen, compressed food rations, and medical kits—enough for 2–3 days.


3. Communication Relay


Every shelter must function as a beacon. A low-power antenna, tuned to orbiting satellites or nearby outposts, sends periodic pings—heartbeat signals in the void. If a truck fails to check in, these pings may be the only clue to their last known position.


4. Maintenance Bay


Martian dust is corrosive, clingy, and electrostatically charged. Left unchecked, it destroys vehicles and life-support systems alike.


Whenever possible, shelters are carved into natural rock formations, giving trucks a place to pull in and undergo full decontamination inside a shielded space. In open terrain, crews erect industrial fabric domes over vehicles—temporary garages that allow for cleaning and basic repairs before the next leg of the journey.



A hyperrealistic digital photograph taken inside a Mars cave shelter, showing a freshly cleaned solar panel lying flat on a dark metal workbench in the foreground. The camera angle is low and close, focusing on the sharp details of the photovoltaic cells. In the background, labeled storage crates marked “O2,” “H2O,” and “MED” are stacked against the rugged, reddish cave wall. To the right, industrial shelves hold tools, power equipment, and coiled cables. Overhead, a single bright LED tube casts stark white light across the dusty, utilitarian workspace. The scene conveys a sense of functional, resourceful survival infrastructure on Mars.


5. Supply Cache


Shelters act as life-sustaining stockpiles: water, oxygen, compressed food rations, and medical kits—enough for 2–3 days. These caches are routinely restocked by passing convoys or quietly shared between settlements.


Equally important are the repair stations—compact 3D printing pods and tool lockers that allow stranded teams to patch damaged suits, fix mechanical failures, or rebuild small parts on the spot. They don’t need to be perfect—just good enough to get moving again.


6. Radiation Shielding


Mars offers no magnetic field, no ozone—just raw cosmic radiation. Even short exposure increases cancer risk.


The simplest protection is dirt. A meter of local regolith blocks most harmful rays. That’s why shelters are either partially buried or pressed into canyon walls. Inflatable units may be lined with regolith bags or covered post-installation. Crude? Sure. But crude is good enough when it works.


These shelters aren’t bases. But they represent something quietly revolutionary: human beings helping each other when no one else will.


In The Mars Chronicles, these anonymous outposts mark the beginning of a new kind of diplomacy—one born not of treaties, but of tools, trust, and the shared will to survive.


Curious what happens next?


In The Mars Chronicles, these shelters are more than survival tools—they’re the backdrop of quiet alliances, broken protocols, and the beginning of something bigger than any single settlement.


👉 Read the novel Icarus – the first book in the series, and uncover the human stories behind the first Martian outposts.

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