Mission to Mars

We're a married couple.
Would it kill you to invite me...

out on the dance floor
just once in a while ?

- We danced at our wedding.
- No, that's not dancing.

That's you shuffling your feet around
while you grab my butt.

I'm talking about
real dancing, you know ?

Cha-cha-cha, rhumba,

Darling, face it.
Some couples dance, some go to Mars.

- That's life.
- Test.
- Effective.

I'm serious. As soon as we get
back home, we're starting lessons.

Woody, if we never dance, people are
gonna think there's something wrong.

If they see me dance,
they'll know there's something wrong.

This is highly unprofessional.
"This is highly unprofessional, sir."
You keep forgetting that "sir."

Cockpit, this is Control.
- Cockpit, this is Control.
- Control, this is Cockpit.

- Terri, it's Phil. They want
us all to report to Micker ASAP.

- Who says to report to Micker ?
- The little men who live in my head.

That's a negative.
We're in the middle of
a catastrophic power failure right now.

Yeah, Woody, it was Ray Beck.
He told me to round up the team, now.

The exact same moment
we lost the data stream,

they picked up this intense
burst of energy from Mars.

- What do you mean "intense" ?
- Catastrophic.

What about the crew ?
The level of energy
in the pulse...

didn't seem survivable.
How about the REMO ?
It went into Mars' orbit last week.
Maybe it could give us some clue.

That's just what
we tried next.

Right. The, uh,
resupply module checked out fine.

No instrument failures. Orbit holding
steady. But there was something else.

The REMO's computer
contained an uplink message--

a very faint, highly-distorted
transmission from Mars One base camp.

- Someone's alive.
- Yes, yes, yes. Put up the message.

Still concentrating on the audio,
but we've got a long way to go.

Show us whatever you've got.
Show us.