One of Samantha's favorite ways to pass the time was tinkering with the matter replicator. While what she called "tinkering" most would describe as "tearing apart a delicate piece of technology to create illicit substances", to her, it was much more than that.
The process of taking the replicator apart included dozens of precise, intricate steps involving disconnecting it from the main base computer, where one wrong move could easily dematerialize your hand if you bumped the wrong wire. But the reward was simply too enticing to ignore: the ability to upload your own base patterns. While the process of mapping an object for replication itself took forever, with any mistake ruining the attempt (as the scanning process necessitated the destruction of the original object), similarly-minded tinkerers from around the Galaxy had written code that allowed for the automation of generating pattern files for several kinds of medicine, where the user only needed to specify the active ingredient and the dosage.
Not having the time or the energy to take apart half her kitchen wall for a quick fix, Samantha begrudgingly took the analgesic pills from the replicator panel and swallowed her daily allotment whole.
As her headache began to subside, she changed from her usual sky-patterned pajamas into her work gear: black, insulated pants with four pockets on the front and 2 on the back. Usually she'd have to pair it with a similarly rugged coat with markings designating her as a technician, but the slightly stained grey hoodie and the dead look in her eyes would be enough for most to identify her as one anyway. She grabbed her pouch, a rectangular black case with a strap, containing all of the necessary equipment to do menial tasks, as it was expected that wherever she was, a replicator would be available to create additional tools. Thankfully, Sam knew enough about them to repair one with a toothpick-sized strip of carbon fiber, should the need arise.
The Ganymede colony hardly resembled what most would picture a million person planetary outpost to look like. In fact, the core of the megastructure almost looked like someone had stuck a space station into the ground and decided that was good enough to start. Incidentally, that is almost exactly what happened nearly three centuries ago.
The colony itself consisted of dozens of large, rectangular buildings under a massive dome2 the size of Australia, spreading out in a radial pattern, centering on a sprawling complex that was the remains of the space station that started this whole settlement. A well-known piece of local folklore regarding the founding of the colony involves a story about how the flag of the settlement came to be.
At the start of the era of Solar System colonization, very strict rules were imposed on what the colonists could and couldn't bring with them, including restrictions on pets. At first it was assumed that no pets would be allowed, but at the last second the committee had granted a motion that allowed mammals to be taken on board. While this was most certainly done to please the captain of the mission, who refused to leave his dog behind, it was far too late for most other participants, who had already sold or given away all of their beloved pets.
All except one.
A self proclaimed German "inventor" who, through back channels heard the news before anyone else, managed to sneak an incubation chamber with a single, soft egg onto the colony ship. By the time anyone had noticed, it had already hatched, containing inside a tiny, pink jelly bean of a platypus.
While the administration back on Earth protested, both the general public and the colonists themselves (including, surprisingly, the captain), supported the eccentric inventor. After filtering out obscenities and references to old Earth entertainment, the name "Poseidon" won out in a public vote.
By the time a proper surface colony was in place, Poseidon had officially become the First Citizen of Ganymede. He directly oversaw the construction of the first public underground pool, which he and his many wives frequented up until his death.
His endeavours, which attracted much public attention and subsequent funding, earned him and his owner a permanent place in the history of the moon, memorialized on its flag as Ganymede, the Ancient Greek hero, kneeling down in a metal boat to greet Poseidon, the platypus, peeking out from the ocean.
The flag gently fluttered back and forth in the artificial wind as Samantha approached the busy transport depot. She turned away from the massive pressurized entryway to shield her eyes from the dust, which briefly lingered on the waving flag. Her frown relaxed. She was briefly reminded that, despite all the wars, turmoil and annoying bosses humanity had to endure over the last five centuries, their collective, baffling sense of humor had persevered.
Seconds later, the voice of a young man came through the station's intercom. "Now arriving to Docking Station 02, a C class vessel en route to Earth by way of Phobos Station. Boarding will begin momentarily. X-V Class Transporters are available to the left of the main entrance."
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The low mass of Ganymede made it impossible to fully terraform, but the fact that it contained more water than all of Earth's deposits combined made it all the more enticing. As such, engineers of the time developed a 3 layered "dome" approach to colonizing such worlds. First, a metal hexagonal mesh would be constructed to form the shape of the dome. Next, gigantic rounded panes made of transparent metal alloys (the kinds used in starship construction) would be installed into the grid, made much easier by the weak gravity of the moon. At the end, hundreds of thousands of forcefield emitters would be installed into the intersections of the metal grid, protecting the physical structure from micrometeor impacts, and blocking the majority of harmful radiation seeping through. At times, when the sky is particularly dark, some residents step outside to watch tiny pieces of interplanetary debris get scattered into rainbow dust against the forcefield, in a spectacle resembling that of Earth's auroras. ↩
