A/N: I am so thrilled that so many people are enjoying my fic! Thank you so much for the kudos, comments, and follows. It means a lot. I go back and reread the comments to motivate myself when new chapters start kicking my butt.

I hope you enjoy getting to meet the crew! They will play an increasingly important role as the story progresses.

There are a few Firefly quotes in there for you, if you were a fan of that show.

Many THG characters never had last names so here are the crew's names because in NASA you refer to each other by surname so familiarize yourself with them now so you know who's who. This was really hard for me, but I felt like to stay true to the scientific/ NASA side of things I had to use surnames too.

Commander Finnick Odair, geologist
Pilot Marvel Reardon
Ship's doctor, Dr. Rue Atwood
Sysop Clove De La Rosa
Chemist, Thresh Somers
And Mechanical Engineer/ Botanist Peeta Mellark

Chapter 7: Crew

Pre-dawn Sol 6

Darkness filled the Hab. The only light came from LEDs that glowed like tiny unblinking eyes in the various machines and computer equipment that made life on Mars and this mission possible, and from the faint blue lights that encircled the base of the Hab to guide the feet of wakeful astronauts.

Even in the dark one could make out Dr. Rue Atwoods's med station tucked into an alcove in one wall. Clove De La Rosa's computer console was in a similar alcove. In the center of the large room were three work tables: Thresh Somers's small chemistry lab, Commander Odair's geology lab, already populated with sets of baggies containing samples, and Peeta Mellark's biology station with a set of racks and small fluorescent lights ready for him to start the botany experiments today.

The kitchen was a small affair with a bit of counter, a tiny sink, and an equally tiny microwave. A bin filled with assorted breakfast packs sat on the counter. Mellark had set it there ready for the morning to make wake-up a little easier. He was always doing little things like that.

On another wall, there was a small room with a toilet and sink, and a shower was to the right of it.

The astronauts slept in three sets of two bunks: Odair and Reardon shared a bunk, Atwood and De La Rosa were together, and Somers was with Mellark. The bunks were big enough that they could sit up in them and use them as a couch, giving them each some personal space.

The astronauts slept deeply. Mellark even had a small smile as he had some pleasant dream.

The soft breathing and quiet snores of six sleeping astronauts mingled with the hum of the environmental regulator, the occasional gurgle of the water reclaimer, and the murmur of the compressor as the oxygenator clicked off and on.

Three airlocks gave access to the Martian surface.

Outside, the inky night was coming to an end. The two moons of Mars, Phobos and Deimos, cast a faint silvery glow on the dome of the Hab and the two rovers, which were pulled in close, plugged in and charging in preparation for today's EVAs.

Twilight on mars was always lengthy compared to Earth's due to dust lofted high in the thin Martian atmosphere, but this morning dawn came early, even for Mars, as the sun's rays cast a feeble light off the dust clouds gathering in the east.

A storm was coming today.

The dust glowed faintly for a while before the pale blue of dawn began. The black veil of night peeled away; the stars dimmed and finally disappeared. The colors of dawn spread across the sky turning it from black, to grey, to a deep butterscotch yellow. Though the sun remained hidden by a wall of dust.

With the rising of the sun, the lights in the Hab began to wink on. Commander Odair was the first to wake. He bounded out of bed, instantly alert, thanks to years of Navy training. Reardon was right behind him. An Air Force man himself, he was able to keep up with Odair with ease. Odair called out to the crew, "Rise and shine! Sol 6! Let's get moving!" He was met with a chorus of groans and moans. "Aw, c'mon guys, you already got an extra forty minutes of sleep."

Atwood sat up, but made no further move to leave her bunk. Somers swung his legs over the edge of his bottom bunk and rubbed his face. De La Rosa pretended to hear none of it. Mellark rolled over to face the rear wall of his bunk, and that was his mistake. Reardon pounced on him, knowing he was awake.

"C'mon, Mellark, up and at 'em!"

"Don't wanna."

"I am a large, semi-muscular man and I will dump your ass outta this bunk."

"I can take you. I am a wrestling champion, you know."

"He's right," Somers butt in, "He can kick your ass."

"Shut up, Somers," said Reardon.

Reardon yanked Mellark's blanket off. Mellark curled up tighter trying to preserve the lost heat and pulled his pillow tight around his head. It was his second mistake, Reardon pulled it away easily. Mellark rolled over and glared.

"Commander Odair! The bad man took my pillow!" Mellark mock-pouted.

"Reardon, give it back. Mellark, get your ass up," answered Odair.

Mellark looked at Reardon again and snorted, "Ugh! Reardon, couldn't you at least get dressed first?"

Reardon was still in his moisture wicking under shirt and boxer-briefs, otherwise known as NASA's standard-issue pajamas.

"What, do you find this…distracting?" he asked suggestively.

"If you weren't already married, I'd take you in a manly fashion," Mellark deadpanned.

"In your lonely pathetic dreams," Reardon retorted.

"I'm trying to think of how you two could be any cruder… Nope. Not coming to me," said Atwood.

Somers leaned out of his bunk and reached up to giver her a high five.

"Girls!" Commander Odair called out in warning.

"See how I'm not punching him, I think I've grown," Reardon said with a smirk.

Mellark gave up. He sat up and slid into his uniform. He walked over to the kitchen and began to pass out breakfast packs while everyone made their coffee. "Atwood, what're you in the mood for? We have eggs, eggs, and oh, look! More eggs."

"I think I'll have the eggs," she said with a smile. He tossed her an egg pack and the hot sauce.

"Somers, what about you?"

"Is there oatmeal?"

"Yeah, actually, there is."

"I'll take that then," Somers said, and Mellark got the pack out and began nuking water in a mug for him.

"Reardon?"

"Sausages."

"Commander?"

"Eggs."

"De La Rosa?"

"De La Rosa?"

"Hey, De La Rosa?"

Mellark was met with a death glare and grunt from De La Rosa.

"Hey, Mellark, you know she takes a while to boot up in the morning," said Reardon, "Computer engineers."

Mellark grabbed his own breakfast and joined the others. De La Rosa sat on the counter with her coffee. Once she finished her coffee, she grabbed a breakfast pack as well.

"Ah! She lives!" called Reardon.

After breakfast, Commander Odair outlined the plan for the day. He and Reardon and Somers would do an EVA to collect rock samples for his geology study and deeper samples for Somers's chemical analysis. De La Rosa would check in with NASA about the meteorology for the day. Odair was looking forward to taking a rover out, but with the storm coming, he wanted to be sure to get the all-clear from NASA. Mellark would start growing his plants. Atwood made sure the med supplies were in order and was prepared to help Thresh and Finnick when they came back with samples.

Commander Odair and Reardon had suited up quickly and were already out on the Martian surface. When they looked east, they saw the dust clouds rising. Still, they were far away. Reardon did the digging and collecting. Odair bagged and tagged. "My handwriting's better,"" he commented when Reardon groused about digging and shouldn't the Commander be getting his own samples.

Mellark hung back, cleaning up the packets and mugs from breakfast. Somers took some time to prepare his station to work with the samples he'd take today. An alert came over the comm. De La Rosa got the message from NASA that the storm they had been expecting would be strong. She alerted Reardon and Commander Odair that they would not be taking the rovers today. Odair concurred and said they'd keep EVA's within one hundred meters of the Hab.

Mellark made his bed and casually looked over his shoulder at Somers. Somers chatted with Atwood before moving to get his EVA suit on. "Bingo!" thought Mellark. He had switched Somers's suit with Atwood's. He was moments away from a very gratifying "Dammit, Mellark!"

Another message came in. The storm was moving faster than initially anticipated. De La Rosa had radar up. She let commander Odair know the storm was fifteen minutes out and that they should wrap up what they were doing and return.

Somers left the suit on the hanger.

"Bummer," Mellark thought.

Instead, Commander Odair and Reardon came through the airlock, shed their EVA suits and the whole group waited anxiously to see what the storm would bring.

Sitting in the Hab, waiting out the storm, while the canvas billowed and the supports groaned and creaked, reminded Mellark of the times severe storms would roll through northeast Texas on their way to Oklahoma and beyond. His family would hover in the basement with a weather radio and flashlights. It was dark and frightening, the storm raging overhead and no way to know what was happening, wondering if they'd wake up in the morning to a drastically altered reality. Even now, there was no way to know for sure what was happening outside. The Hab had cameras, but the view was obscured by the dust, there was nothing to see.

The Mars mission was the mission of a lifetime. The whole crew sat there hoping that this wasn't it, that this wasn't the end, that a windstorm wouldn't scrub years worth of work and billions of tax payer dollars. It wasn't worth it.

Commander Odair and De La Rosa continued talking back and forth about wind speeds and the location and direction of the storm. The final, fatal flaw, was not that the Hab could breach; the Hab could take the abuse of the storm. No, it was the MAV. NASA did not expect Mars to throw up such an unusually strong storm. The MAV was in danger of tipping.

"The winds are over 100 kph now, gusting to 125 kph, and we're just on the leading edge of the storm." De La Rosa looked up at Odair, who was at her side looking at the computer with her. "It's going to get worse before it gets better."

Commander Odair turned to Reardon and asked, "What's the abort wind speed Reardon?"

"Abort wind speed is 150kph," said Reardon, "It can tip the MAV."

Odair nodded and turned to the crew. "Get your flight suits on. We're going to wait this one out in the MAV," he ordered.

The crew groaned. Mellark cursed under his breath. They should have had something, done something, so they wouldn't need to scrub the mission for some damn wind.

"Prepare for the worst, hope for the best," said Atwood optimistically. Somers smiled at her.

"We're going to be cutting it close if the storm is already this bad," said Reardon as he shrugged his flightsuit on.

They grouped by twos outside of Air Lock One. Reardon and Odair in the lead, followed by Atwood and Somers, and Mellark and De La Rosa brought up the rear.

They huffed as they walked angled into the wind that was doing its best to beat them back. The dust in the air made it difficult to see. They homed in on Commander Odair's beacon as he led them to the MAV.

Mellark, struggling in the effort to walk into the wind said, between huffs, "You know, maybe we don't need to leave, what if we…anchor the MAV down…with the rovers and some cables…from the solar farm. Then we could-"

Suddenly, Mellark was gone, hit by debris and blown backward toward the west, along the path of the storm.

De La Rosa turned to her left. "Mellark?" she called "Mellark!"

There was no answer.

"What happened?" Odair asked.

"Something hit him," De La Rosa reported.

"Mellark! Report!" Odair called over the radio.

Silence.

"MELLARK! REPORT!" he tried again.

Still no answer.

"He's offline," De La Rosa reported. "I've lost him! I don't have his signal."

"Commander," said Atwood, "Before going offline, his decompression alarm went off!"

Commander Odair took a deep breath and tried to get a handle on a situation that was rapidly spiraling out of control. He turned to Reardon and said, "Reardon, you get to the MAV and prepare for launch. Everyone else home in on De La Rosa's Beacon. We need to go find Mellark. De La Rosa, where did you last see him?"

"He was next to me, then he was blown back, to the west."

Shoulder to shoulder the team headed west, blown along by the wind that threatened to knock them over at every moment. Dust swirled around them and small rocks pelted their suits. They drug their feet, for stability, and also so they wouldn't accidentally step over Mellark.

In the MAV, Reardon passed through the airlock, removed his suit, and slid into the pilot's couch. He reached for the Emergency Launch Checklist. With long practiced efficiency, he flicked switches rapidly, bringing systems online one by one. He took note of one in particular.

"Commander Odair, be advised that the MAV is currently at a seven degree tilt," Reardon reported.

"Copy that. At what point can it not recover?"

"12.3, sir. At that point it will not be able to rock back."

"Copy, Reardon. Keep us advised."

"De La Rosa," Atwood said, looking at the small digital screen on her arm, "Mellark's bio-monitor sent something before going completely offline, but I can't tell what was sent. It just says 'Bad Packet'."

"I have it, too," De La Rosa confirmed, "Hold on, let me see what I can find out."

Reardon's voice rang through the comms again, "Commander, we have a message from Houston. The mission is officially scrubbed. The storm's going to be too rough."

"Copy," Odair said.

"And…sir, they sent that four and a half minutes ago, while looking at satellite data from nine minutes ago," Reardon said.

"Understood, Reardon, continue prepping for launch."

"Copy," said Reardon.

De La Rosa said, "Atwood! I have the raw packet. It says: BP 0, PR 0, TP 36.2. That's it. That's as far as it got."

Atwood said, "Copy. Blood Pressure zero. Pulse Rate zero. Temperature normal."

The whole crew was silent for a moment, still shuffling westward, the storm raging around them.

"Temperature normal," said Somers, a note of hope in his deep voice.

"It takes a while," Atwood's voice wavered, "It takes some time to…cool."

Reardon's voice broke through the thick silence, "Commander, be advised that the MAV is now tilting at 10.5 degrees. Gusts push it to eleven."

The margin of safety narrowed.

"Copy," said Commander Odair, "Are you ready for launch?"

"Affirmative. Ready for launch."

Commander Odair had a tough choice before him, find Mellark, or get the crew to the ship. He felt they must be close, but it was impossible to see in these conditions and they were walking further and further away from the MAV which was getting closer and closer to tipping while the wind, and dust, and debris pounded them. He could lose them all.

With a thick voice Odair ordered the crew to turn back, home in on Reardon's beacon, and prepare for launch. Reluctantly they turned back. He wanted to continue looking for as long as possible, but he couldn't risk the crew.

"Reardon, if the MAV tips past 12.3, and I'm not able to make it back. You launch. You got that?"

"I'm not leaving without you, sir."

"I don't want you risking the whole crew."

"But sir!"

"That's an order, Reardon!"

"Understood, Commander." Reardon's voice was tight. Barely even able to process the loss of one crewmate, he couldn't imagine losing the Commander as well.

Odair continued west, first shuffling his feet, then on hands and knees, hoping against hope that he'd find his missing crewman. But he wasn't there. The storm was blinding.

Odair spoke up over the comms again, "Do you think we can use IR from the rovers?"

"Negative," answered De La Rosa, "The IR can't penetrate the dust."

"What about the MAV's proximity radars?" Odair asked. He was grasping at straws now.

"Negative, Commander," answered Reardon. "They're for detecting the Hermes. The tiny amount of metal in a spacesuit won't even register. I'm sorry sir, but Mellark is…," He swallowed, it was so hard to say it, "Mellark is dead, sir."

"I'm not giving up!" Odair called back.

"Commander, the MAV's tilt is now 11.6 degrees. A good gust and it will tip," Reardon reported.

"Copy," said Odair, his breathing labored by the effort of being in the storm for so long, "I'm coming back."

"Copy," said Reardon. "Shit! Everyone, strap in! We're tipping!"

"Tilting at 13 degrees," said De La Rosa. The supports on the MAV groaned under the shifting weight.

"We can't recover from that," said Somers.

"We can't leave without Odair," said Atwood.

"We won't," assured Reardon, "I have a trick up my sleeve." And he fired up the OMS thrusters on the leeward side of the MAV. By firing this set of thrusters, he could offset the tilt caused by the winds and stay on the ground a little longer. Blowing the covers off the thrusters on the nosecone would make launch bumpy, but he had 'golden hands' and could handle it. He was not going to lose his best-friend and commander on the same day.

Reardon said, "De La Rosa, keep an eye on those readouts."

"Copy. Tilt still at 13 degrees…now 12.9 degrees…12.6…" The tension in her voice eased with each positive increment.

Odair fought his way back to the MAV. There was no finding Mellark in all of this and he was probably, most likely, certainly dead. With a heavy heart and leaden feet he climbed the ladder into the MAV.

"Almost there…," said De La Rosa, "Okay, we're under 12.3."

The crew breathed a sigh of relief.

"OMS cutoff," Reardon announced, terminating the burn.

De La Rosa continued, "11.6….11.5…and…holding." She let out a long exhale.

Odair finally emerged into the cabin and took his place next to Reardon.

Five crewman sat in a circle of launch couches. Mellark's space gaping in it's emptiness, as though even the MAV felt his loss.

"Still at pilot release," said Reardon to Odair, "Ready for launch."

Odair closed his eyes tightly. This was it. Then he nodded.

Reardon's voice came thickly, "I need verbal…"

"Launch," said Odair hoarsely.

"Yes, sir," said Reardon as he ignited the engines for launch.

The MAV shuddered as the engines roared to life. After a moment of inertia, the MAV lifted off from the surface. The increased g-forces pushed the astronauts into their couches. The wind sheer threatened to push the MAV off course, but the computers angled the MAV into the wind, keeping it on course as it continued to surge through the atmosphere gaining speed. The now-open OMS ports caused the MAV to shake and rattle, but Reardon was handling the flight beautifully, keeping up with necessary adjustments.

The first stage burnt out and fell away, lightening the load of the MAV considerably and temporarily reducing g-forces on the astronauts. They were weightless for a few moments. The second stage fired right on cue and the crew sunk into the couches again as the MAV was thrust upward further from Mars. Now free of the atmosphere, there was no more air resistance, and this stage of flight was as smooth as the previous stage was rough. They were now free of Mars on their way to rendezvous with the Hermes.

Normally, they'd celebrate a successful launch, but the crew sat unmoving, each face wet with tears, with only the sound of Atwood's soft sobs breaking the silence.

Four months later…

It had been four months since the crew left Mars. They had mourned their fallen crewmate, and finally life was getting back to normal. A new normal. They took their meals together, did their science experiments (Atwood tried not to think about why she was growing plants in zero-g), took care of little repairs on the Hermes, and communicated with NASA and their families.

They were able to laugh again without considering it a sacrilege. Reardon had gone to pack up Mellark's bunk and found the fake puke he had brought. He chuckled and hid it in Somers's bunk who found it and smiled then tucked it in Atwood's med station. She giggled and secreted it in De La Rosa's computer console who bit her lip remembering her friend. Then she put it in the shower where Odair found it. He startled, then whispered, "Dammit Mellark," around the lump that formed in his throat. Now, it was a running joke as they found and re-hid the fake puke. It was a way of keeping Mellark's memory alive and helped them to feel like he was still there with them.

Today there would be a data dump. They looked forward to "Dump Day" as emails, pictures, and videos from family and occasionally friends helped take their minds off their life in space.

"Reardon,you look as giddy as a school boy. You expecting something special today?" asked Atwood as she joined the others around De La Rosa's console.

"Yeah, it was my boy's third birthday this week. I'm sure my wife will send pictures." Reardon grinned. He was one proud papa. "What about you, Atwood? Anything special for you?"

"Nah, just a paper I wrote a couple years ago going through the peer review process. It will probably be published later this year," replied Atwood. She turned to Somers. "Somers, you got anyone special back home you're hoping to hear from today?"

Somers shook his head modestly. "Just my grandma and my sister. My grandma doesn't like to use fancy technology much. But my sister will sometimes include something from her in her own messages."

De La Rosa said, "I'm getting a knife catalog."

"Figures," snorted Reardon.

Commander Odair bounded in just in time. The data download was nearly complete. How he bounded, even in space, was a mystery to the crew. He rubbed his hands together in expectation. He loved hearing from his wife and kids. He and Annie were used to separation, but that didn't make it easier. To see her again in the video messages breathed life into him. And seeing ten year old Ridley and five year old Quinn meant so much to him. They were growing up before his very eyes. It wouldn't be much longer, just six more months, and he'd be able to hold them all in his arms again.

The crew gathered round as De La Rosa downloaded everything (mail, messages, further instructions from NASA about their experiments, and a system update for the Hermes-that was for De La Rosa) then uploaded it to each crewman's account. They were about to run off to their respective bunks to watch and read their messages when De La Rosa spoke up.

"Hold up guys! There's a video message. It's for all of us. And it's from Gale Hawthorne."

They crowded around the console. De La Rosa played the video.

"Hermes, this is Gale Hawthorne. There is some news that I felt that I should be the one to share with you, personally." Gale on the video visibly took a deep breath before continuing. "There's no easy way to say it, and no gentle way to tell you, so I'm just going to be blunt."

"When isn't he blunt?" Reardon joked from the back of the crowd.

"Shut up Reardon," said Odair.

Gale, looking dead on at the camera, unblinking, unwavering, said, "Peeta Mellark is alive. We've known this since Sol 49. He was hit by a communications antenna and the decompression knocked him out. It hit his bio-pack, too, making it look like he was dead. But he says it's not your fault. He makes sure to say it every time we talk to him. We've found a way to communicate with him via a patch between Rover 2 and Pathfinder. That's some crazy shit right there, what he did to get Pathfinder. Anyway, look, I don't have much time, but I thought you should know and I wanted you to hear it from me first. It's only right. I wanted to tell you right away, but the other directors wouldn't let me. I'm sorry they kept this from you. We're working on a rescue plan. Don't worry. We're going to bring him home."

The video ended with Gale's sad grey eyes promising them he would keep his word to bring their crewmate home.

De La Rosa leaned back in the chair. "He's alive," she said, disbelieving.

"Shiiiit," said Reardon running a hand through his hair.

Atwood wept. Somers put his arm around her, his eyes misty, too.

Odair's mouth gaped. "I left him behind."

"We all left him behind," said Reardon.

"No!" Odair insisted, "You followed orders. I left him behind."

De La Rosa spoke up, "You did what you had to do."

"De La Rosa's right," said Somers, "You went back, you tried to find him. There was nothing more you could do."

"We all thought he was dead," Atwood said, her voice shaky.

"You can't beat yourself up over this Commander. It was just shit luck," added Reardon.

Commander Odair looked at his crew. They didn't understand. They couldn't. He stalked out of the room.

How close was he to finding Mellark prone on the surface of Mars? Inches? Feet? What he wouldn't give to have a second chance to find him. He was forgetting the blinding sand, the powerful wind, the urgency of the need to launch. He had made the best decision he could given the circumstances, but now he only felt like a failure. He had grieved Mellark's loss. Not a day went by that he didn't miss the jokes, the banter, the friendly face, and the strong work ethic of the man, and now, that good, kind, gentle soul was left in utter isolation, marooned on a godforsaken planet by his own crew. By his own Commander. By him.

Odair went to his bunk, not even able to open his "mail". He just sat there, staring, his eyes rimmed red and the moisture of tears under them. He got out his piece of rope. Annie insisted he pack it. She knew rope soothed him when he was stressed or upset, tying and untying the knots that he had learned as a boy fishing with his father.

He began to run the rope through his fingers, deftly winding, looping, and knotting it, then slipping the knot loose again, his mind filled with tortuous thoughts.

Knots, knots, tie and untie, tie and untie. They followed orders, I left him behind. Knots, knots. Tie and untie. Tie and untie. They followed orders, I left him behind. Knots, knots. Tie and untie. Tie and untie. They followed orders. Knots, knots. I left him behind. Tie and untie. Tie and untie. They-knots-followed orders-knots. I-tie-left him behind-untie. I-knots-LEFT-knots-HIM-tie-BEHIND-untie. Knots, knots. Tie and untie. Tie and untie.