[Author's note: Thank you for taking the time to read this piece! I'm thrilled you've returned for Chapter 2. The story continues where we've left off, circa Sol 100. Reviews and feedback of all types are welcomed.]

"How's that report coming along?" Johanssen asked, pushing her now-cold coffee cup into the microwave.

Martinez sighed and shook his head. He'd been analyzing diagnostic readouts all morning. "About 60% done. This one's more thorough than usual, too. At first I thought they were punishing me for that 'Top Gun' comment in the last log, but now…" he trailed off, catching Johanssen's eye.

"What?" she asked, eyes narrowing.

"'I feel the need…'"

Johanssen glared.

"You little nerds have no sense of humor," he shook his head in mocked sadness. "On another note, I don't think I'll get over how strange you look drinking from one of those," he said, nodding at the specially designed cup.

The coffee cup looked like a lab beaker bred with a wineskin. To drink from it in 0-g, you had to pinch the liquid out from the bottom. It was like drinking from a Capri Sun package without the straw. Of course, the Rec had centripetal gravity, so the pinching method was not necessary, but NASA had higher priorities than sending two sets of cups to Mars.

"Stop changing the subject," Johanssen scolded, retrieving her cup and taking a seat beside Martinez. "What's going on?"

"I shouldn't say," Martinez said, shaking his head and returning to his work.

"No secrets on this ship," Johanssen reminded him, doing her best Lewis impression. "Besides, how do you know I wasn't thinking the same thing?"

He eyed her suspiciously.

"Just say it."

"Okay. Look here," he said, pushing his computer towards her. "They're asking for the usual remaining fuel tank volume, pressure, mass, predicted mileage, planned trajectory, temperature, and frequency of cleaning but then they're also asking for a report on projected corrosion rates, corrosion additions, piping blockages, panel maintenance… it's very detailed.

"The thing is, they can get all this information from my log and maintenance reports, and also from your sysop reports. So why are they asking for redundant information?"

"That's true… they can easily run the numbers themselves," Johanssen agreed. "Watney?"

"Bingo."

"You think they're trying to find out if we can go back for him before Ares 4?"

"You know Commander Lewis will think it's dangerous to start hoping. But yes. We're the closest ones to him. They have to be playing with that idea. Right now, I think they want us to confirm what they already know."

"I've been thinking about that too. I couldn't sleep last night, so I tried different scenarios. As much as I'd like to say it's possible, I think we're limited by fuel," Johanssen said sadly.

"And we don't have an MDV to get to the surface. Or an MAV."

"Shoot."

"I know. This sucks."

Both were quiet for a minute.

"Well, there's no use moping," Martinez said, never one to be kept down, "I'm sure they'll come up with a brilliant plan to save Watney. But I think this is worth mentioning this at status."

"You're right. He's alive and that's what matters. I can help you finish these," Johanssen offered. "I'm a bit ahead of schedule."

"Thanks, Johanssen. You can be my wingwoman any time."

"I don't think your wife would appreciate that."

"Ugh," Martinez sighed, "You're supposed to say-"

"I know. 'Bullshit. You can be mine.'"

"Much better."

A little while later, the crew gathered for status.

"Let's get through this quickly," Lewis began, "I'd like to focus on our response to the Watney Report. Beck, why don't you start?"

"Watney's plant growth experiments are progressing. Hermes life support levels are normal and their filters are functional. No signs of damage other than normal wear and tear. There was a request in one of the updates I received yesterday. Dr. Irene Shields, our Flight Psychologist, would like me to report on the crew's psychological state post Watney Report. She's sent a series of questions, so I will need to speak with each of you privately over the next little while. Nothing too invasive. If you are more comfortable speaking with her directly, she is open to that as well."

"Ok. Vogel?"

"Power output at normal. Telemetry stable. I will need to request a soil sample pH report on the next data upload. I would like to compare some of my test results to the results gathered by Ares 2."

"I will put in a request. Need anything else?"

Vogel shook his head.

"Alright. Johanssen?"

"All systems go, Commander."

"Good. Martinez?"

"I think you should hear this."

As he explained what he and Johanssen had examined earlier, the crew listened intently, but the air felt heavier. By the end, it felt downright tense.

"So you're telling me that even though Watney is alive and we are the closest people to him, NASA is expecting us to come home with our tail between our legs?" Beck asked.

"Martinez and I estimate that, with the supplies we have now, we cannot go back for Mark and survive."

"We can't do anything?" Beck said, anger colouring his tone.

Martinez shook his head. "Not at the moment."

"Would it be possible with a resupply?" Vogel asked, forcing himself to stay calm.

Martinez and Johanssen shared a look.

"It's possible," she admitted slowly. "Though it would take a hell of a lot of precise calculations and minimal prep time for NASA. Even if the supply ship got into orbit, we found it, and it somehow managed to dock, we might be pushing our luck. Hermes is designed for a 396 day mission."

"Parts of the ship might break or malfunction if we extended the mission time," Martinez agreed. "I don't see NASA going for that option."

"If they have to choose between getting the five of us back safely at little risk and getting the six of us home, but at a high risk, I see them choosing the first option," Lewis said quietly.

It was quiet in the room when she said "six." They all felt Watney's loss.

"Damn it!" Beck blurted, frustrated. "Why couldn't they just tell us as soon as they knew?!"

"I don't think that would have made a difference," Johanssen said.

"Maybe not," Vogel's jaw was clenched. "But they should not have kept this news from us for so long."

"I agree," said Lewis. "However, doing anything other than returning to Earth is not in our marching orders. It's unlikely they would have let us return for him even if we had all the right equipment. Which might be for his own safety. And ours. What does it do to someone when they get left behind?"

She trailed off, leaving the rest struggling to find the right words. Martinez was the first to recover.

"Henderson's message said Watney doesn't blame us. That it was bad luck," Martinez stressed, catching Lewis' eye. Changing tactics, he looked around at the others, "Think of the ego boost he'll get when he can say he colonized Mars. Or rather, don't. He was bad enough before," he tried to hitch a smile to his face.

It almost worked.

"Whatever we decide, we cannot approach this recklessly," Vogel said. "Emotional, passionate people make mistakes."

"And I, for one, would like to avoid any more upsets on this mission," Lewis said, regaining composure. She sat up taller and cleared her throat, "Well, I think this discussion carries us nicely into our response to NASA. Let's start with a series of questions since we were promised answers."

In the end, they came up with:

While we respect Houston's decision to delay relaying this information, we strongly disagree. We are very relieved to know that Watney is thriving and are formally requesting to communicate with him. Please inform us as to how and when we may do so. We are also volunteering our services to assist in his rescue in any way possible. We are eager to see him returned home safely. Please keep us informed of any developments. He's a pain in the ass, but we miss that guy.

"Martinez, was it necessary to add the 'pain in the ass' bit?"

"He'd do the same for any of us," Martinez stated. It sounded harsher than he'd intended.

That was the end of that.

"This response will be sent with tomorrow's upload," Johanssen confirmed. Worry lines creased her forehead.

"Okay. If nobody minds, I'm going to turn in a bit early tonight," Lewis said slowly, moving towards the door. "It's been a long day."

Nobody minded.

"Good night, Commander."

"Great work today," she said. "See you in the morning."

One by one, the crew left the table to finish up their tasks before heading to their quarters.

As he was leaving, Martinez tapped Beck's shoulder.

"Check in with her, will you?" he asked quietly, nodding towards Lewis' closed door. "I haven't seen her this low since the funeral."

Beck nodded and turned back to his journal revisions. He'd noticed the same thing.