Sol 375. That is how long Mark had been on this damned planet, 375 Sols, 365 earth days, 12 months, a year. That's how long he has been away from Earth, the Ares crew, his family, his friends, his home. He should hate it, but he feels... At home. It could be improved, sure- He could have his friends, or food besides potatoes, or music besides disco (Goddamn disco..), or a sexy Martian alien chick that wants to learn about this human thing called 'Love making'- No, Mark, stop it! Anyway, he was doing a test drive to see now he'd do on the drive to MAV to get back to Hermes. It was hell. It smelled like shit, he couldn't feel his legs, and he was bored out of his mind. He couldn't wait to get home. Houston was always on his ass, checking in every three goddamn minutes. He was happy to have communication (even if it did take 56 minutes for info to be transported), but they wouldn't clear him to do anything! It was infuriating. But he rarely listened- What would they do, come up and stop him?

Mark stopped the rover for a scheduled driving break, a small break from hell. He made sure the air wouldn't escape, and stopped put of the rover. He didn't immediately get to looking to make sure the rover was intact, which is technically why he had these scheduled stops. Mark walked around the rover, stretching and massaging his legs as best he could. He took a deep breath, marveling at the Martian landscape. The red dust and endless rolling red dunes seemed to stretch forever in all directions. The sky was a deep, velvety black above, sprinkled with twinkling stars. There was an ethereal beauty to the scene, and Mark let out a breath

As he continued walking, he ran a few diagnostic checks on the rover's vital systems, making sure everything was in working order.