My Little Pony: My Little Pony The Martian

AMICITAS Mission Three – Mission Day 37

ARES 3 solar day 40

The work will be finished soon.

After four hours of work, the pile of perchlorate was now no more than the height of Fireball's butt, and the width had been reduced to slightly longer than he was from kiss to tail. In another two hours, I can put down the shovel and finish with the broom and dustpan.

Fireball thought, it's a pity that so much spicy food has to be poured out and allowed to be slowly swept away by the thin Martian wind element. He wanted to keep some for later. Those monotonous spars would be boring to eat, and Mark was stingy about sharing the seasonings. At least he had to find something to make the life of waiting for rescue easier. For example, these perchlorates in front of him should be good as seasonings.

Of course, Mark would definitely not be willing to waste his bottles and cans on this matter. He had made it clear before that he did not want to see this yellow and white thing near the shelter again. But if Fireball stores these things in Amicitas' kitchen, he can't possibly object, right? The lighting there now works, and the air inside the cabin is fine, even a little warmer than outside. If he wanted to, he could go to the spaceship to eat, and the monkey would definitely be unable to do anything to him.

And if he didn't want the stuff, why shouldn't he take it? If no one wants it, wouldn’t these things naturally belong to him?

Nothing wrong. Fireball, these are all yours. Just take a little and nothing will happen.

It was noon and everyone was ready to go back to the rover for lunch. Mark was tightening the knots he had tied on Boss and Spitfire's sled harness. Dragonfly was about to carry the magic battery on his back; while Starlight was sitting on the ground convulsing and shaking like chaff because she used magic to shovel dirt for four hours straight. No one could notice the fireball's movements.

However, at this time, Fireball's few senses shouted at him: "You retarded man, if you wait until there is no horse to stop you before you do something, that means it is a bad idea! Leave it alone!" If you really want it, you can get that unicorn anytime!”

But the rest of his mind has long been occupied by a strange song: "Give me...Give me...", and few dragons can resist the charm of this tune. What also adds to the problem (and this is true for most intelligent creatures) is that the worse the idea you come up with, the harder it is to resist the urge to do it.

Fireball retrieved a complete plastic wrapper of food packages from his suit's tool pouch. He kept a few bags so that he could take them out for relief when he couldn't bear to eat quartz every day, but he also kept some bags, partly because of the nature of dragons, and partly because he thought it might be possible in the future. Will come in handy.

As in this case, he walked over to the pile and tried to use it to get a spoonful of the healthful perchlorate seasoning powder.

The food packages for the ponies are handled by a changeling chef who works at the Houston Space Center and has a temper similar to that of Carapace/Frost[1]. The food is magically vacuum-sealed in a cheap plastic airtight package produced by a Manehattan-based upstream contractor for both the Changeling Space Program and the Equestrian Space Agency. Packaged food is generally stored in fireproof cabinets, but no thought has been given to fireproofing the packaging itself. After all, Arima said, "If even this kind of thing catches fire in space, you'd better worry about it first." Let’s talk about other big troubles.”

In contrast, NASA and a number of contractors are prepared. They tried their best to ensure that even if they were close to a lit welding gun, the carbon fiber and plastic materials used in the mission equipment would not burn. Of course, plastic bags containing soil samples are among the few flammable exceptions, but they only burn slowly for a short time after melting and then go out. Even if the perchlorate was moved out of the cave using sampling buckets, as Mark desperately feared, it's unlikely that anything serious would happen.

At the same time, if the perchlorate maintains subfreezing temperatures like the cave environment, it would be even less likely to cause trouble. But this time things have changed. Over time, perchlorates have been slowly absorbing trace amounts of moisture from the surrounding air and soil below. The heat released by this deliquescence process causes the temperature of the pile of perchlorate to rise to a certain extent. The pressure of the upper layer material on the lower layer also contributes a small amount of heat. Every shovel dug previously and every magic used compressed and disturbed the pile of perchlorate, which was tantamount to adding fuel to the fire.

This pile of perchlorate still looks so cold, but this level of coldness is no longer enough to ensure the safety of Mark and the others.

Even if this empty plastic bag has no fire hazard under normal circumstances, if the conditions are met and the time comes, the small body can bloom with great energy.

Fireball tried to get as close to the pile of things as possible while being careful not to step on them; he leaned forward with his sinuous upper limbs and carefully scooped up the sticky dust with the packaging bag. At first, the bag opening was not wide enough and failed; the second attempt was slightly better, but the sticky perchlorate still refused to surrender to the edge of the bag.

Just as Fireball tried for a third time, the slime around the bag began to bubble. Fireball was startled, dropped the packaging bag, and subconsciously took a step back, watching in confusion as the foam became more intense like boiling water.

A flame burst out from the mouth of the bag.

Suddenly a black shadow jumped out and knocked the dragon away from the perchlorate pile at an extremely fast speed.

A second later, the pile of perchlorate exploded.

Transcript – Hydraulic Telegraph Switch – ESA Maltimore Center ＜-＞ ESA spacecraft AMICITAS

AMICITAS: Amicitas calls Maltimore, over.

Maltimore: Maltimore called Amicitas. We couldn't get in touch before. What happened? complete.

AMICITAS: Berry Berry - Accident occurred. The alien and two crew members were injured. The experiment was postponed indefinitely. Wait for further notification. complete.

Maltimore: Please repeat, reception was not successful. The hoof speed is too slow. complete.

AMICITAS: Dragonfly - An accident occurred. The alien and two crew members were injured. Experiment qqq (face rolling keyboard)

Maltimore: Maltimore calls Amicitas, over.

AMICITAS: Dragonfly - An accident occurred. The alien and only one crew member were injured. Another team member is hungry. The experiment is suspended until next contact. complete.

Maltimore: Cocoon—none of you are allowed to die before I come. complete.

AMICITAS: How long will that take? complete.

Maltimore: Twilight - Exact time awaits further research. complete.

AMICITAS: Dragonfly - gotta go to bed. Commanders will be urged to practice more Moss code in the future. complete.

Maltimore: Was one or two crew members injured? complete.

AMICITAS: Berry—two. complete.

AMICITAS: Dragonfly - one. complete.

Maltimore: Recovered, two crew members injured. Waiting for next contact, communication ends.

Mission Log – Solar Day 41

I was currently lying on my bunk. Fireball helped me get my laptop so that I could record this diary. At the same time, he also said to me, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He must have learned these words from Starlight or Dragonfly. , after all, I don't believe he's ever said anything similar in pony language.

The good news is: I'm still alive. I managed to escape from a pile of napalm-like debris that the perchlorate decomposed and sprayed in all directions. I still survived after experiencing a damaged spacesuit and first and second-degree burns on my right upper arm where the spacesuit was damaged.

The bad news is: I'm in terrible pain right now. It feels like I simply don’t know what evil I have done in my previous life. Did I just mention that I now have to lie on my back or left side because of blisters from second-degree burns on my upper arms? What if you add a decompression headache worse than the one you woke up with on Solar Day 6? Life is simply worse than death.

Here I can roughly describe what happened in my impression. Two solitary days ago, Fireball apparently became addicted to the cinnamon challenge after entertaining himself, and without notifying anyone, he smuggled an empty food bag into his spacesuit in an attempt to save some. Reserved for private use.

No wonder he is. Since we stopped for lunch yesterday, I had almost forgotten that we were dealing with a mixture of two dangerous oxidants. That pile of stuff just never moved. And anyway, even if he ate some, it was just a burp that could catch fire. In this way, of course, he forgot about the possible danger. But considering that I also forgot, I can't entirely blame him for this.

Maybe the medicine they gave me also helped me calm down. Spitfire found me some powerful analgesics from their medical kit. So cool! It still hurt, but at the same time I felt so happy and so attuned to the world that I almost forgot about it. I'm pretty sure the use of this drug will be banned once we establish full diplomatic relations with the pony government. I'm still worried about the risk of addiction, but come on, the medical supplies you gave me mainly consisted of various tablets or injectable opioids. Doesn't it make no difference?

Back to the topic. I had just untied Spitfire's harness when I noticed Fireball leaning toward the mound. We were progressing quite smoothly at that time, and it was estimated that we could even finish work early, but there was still a lot left over at lunch. At first I was just curious; what was he doing sneakily around that thing? Did he not want to go back to the rover with us for dinner and decided to go out and have a picnic by himself?

When he was startled and stepped back, I had already started walking towards him. (Very cautiously, because even though it looks similar, I haven't completely become a wise man yet) Then I saw the food packaging bag. I was yelling at him to back off, but apparently he couldn't hear me - our suit communication systems weren't communicating. Then I saw the first flames burst out of the bag.

That's right. So we have an open fire, magnesium oxidizer around the fire, plus organic combustibles.

Seeing this situation, you will probably start to get mad and violent. Of course, this is a natural reaction. I'm just waiting here to watch your mother come over and wash your mouth with soap.

I ran three steps to the right, found the angle, then turned around and started to accelerate, hitting the side of the fireball and knocking him away from the side. It has to be said that even taking into account the influence of Mars' gravity, the fireball is still surprisingly light. He flew out and hit the crystal on the other side of the cave. Fortunately, the force was not strong enough and did not puncture his spacesuit.

It's a pity that Newton is a bastard, because in the process I transferred almost all the momentum to the fireball, so I didn't have much left, and I lost my balance. I just had time to catch myself and take a step forward before the pile of perchlorate exploded.

The explosion process is very different from the kind seen in Hollywood movies. In fact, it was more like a bubble bursting from a churning mud spring, spraying mud everywhere, but this time the mud was on fire. One flew out and hit the right side of my body facing the mound, and the part hanging from my upper arm was burning.

NASA's space suits are designed to withstand extremely high temperatures and are extremely fire-resistant, but the slimy perchlorate just hung on and gnawed at my sleeves like crazy. Naturally, I couldn't lie down and roll around on the ground covered with burning perchlorate, so the mass on my arm burned through the spacesuit in a few seconds.

Things get interesting after that. And it was extremely painful.

I don't remember how long it lasted, but it must have been no more than a few seconds, otherwise I wouldn't have survived. I guess I passed out somewhere in the middle, but I can’t remember. (This reminded me of a few parties I attended while at the University of Chicago, but only one of them involved fire.) When I woke up, I was on the rover, wearing a dirty jumpsuit. Half of his right arm was burned off, and next to him lay a passed out unicorn in a space suit.

Apparently Starlight noticed what happened at that time, so he injected the remaining energy of the magic battery into himself at once, then rushed over and teleported us into the rover, leaving only the damaged space suit and a lot of perchloric acid. Salt. This quick cast saved my life, but it seemed that her small body could not withstand it.

She is still sleeping on the bed opposite me. Berry said she hasn't woken up yet. And even if I take medicine, I'm still a little worried about it.

I can't remember the rest of what happened yesterday, probably because I was in shock. (Come to think of it, after all, when I woke up this morning, almost all the blankets in the living area were covering me, and there was one at Starlight.) According to Pony and the others, I was the only one unlucky enough to be affected by the fire splash. Perchlorate affected members. After Starlight and I successfully exited the cave, the rest of the team escaped through non-magical means.

All I remember is that Dragonfly came through the rover's airlock and coaxed me into the driver's seat. She even imitated General Lee's trumpet blast to make sure I got her point.

But it could have been a dream, because I also remember Johnson standing next to me, leaning on my shoulder. "Come on, Mark," I heard her say, "you can do this."

Thinking about it now, I must have been dreaming. Anyway, it's been over thirty solar days since I last saw my crew. But I clearly saw her standing there, wearing the same messy clothes as me, accompanying me. I think I should have said, "I love you." (Beck will be mad if he sees this one day, but come on, man, think about it - if you keep refusing to talk to your If CP opens her heart and expresses her feelings, I can only blame you for not living up to expectations for what I want to do with her in my dream.)

Then she said something that shocked me: "We are born for love and live for love." If I can have a tombstone, I must have this sentence engraved on it.

I thought about it again and found that this idea was quite stupid. Just now, the image of a large group of zombies moaning "Heart...heart..." appeared in my mind.

Say no more. Anyway, whether it was because of a dream or hallucination, I drove the rover back to the residential area in a daze. I don't remember anything about the drive other than what I just mentioned. The ponies got out of the car first and brought me one of my intact EVA space suits - at least I remember they coaxed me to put it on. When I woke up this morning, my right sleeve rubbed against the burnt area on my arm. It hurt to the core. The fireball actually grabbed my arm and moved me through the airlock from the rover back to the living area. It was really heartbreaking.

I also remember them carrying Starlight back to the living area. Then came the dragonfly. I'm quite surprised by this. I saw that bug walking around today, but she didn't seem to be in good condition. Her wings were still shiny when they first came here. It's gone now, and I feel like the holes in her wings and hooves are getting a little bigger.

Why could I never think of asking Ting Ting how she lived? The only pony who can answer me now is sleeping soundly and cannot be woken up.

Long story short; things could have turned out much worse. I lost one spacesuit, but it already had a hole in it, so I wasn't too concerned about that. I had to wear a bandage on my arm for the last few weeks while I waited for the burn wound to heal. I may have some scars on my hands that look like chickenpox marks afterwards. I also have to limit my activity during this time, so the ponies have to do more work for me for the time being.

And that fireball. I remember him. He owed me a big favor this time, and I think he should know it, after all, he brought me a hot food package. Luckily I've taught the ponies how to operate a microwave before.

After eating something good, it’s time to rest. Before that, I casually watched some hot chicken TV series from the 1970s left by Lewis. I don't really want to watch cyberpunk stuff right now...ponies won't be able to understand most non-musical sitcoms until they learn more English.

I just found a copy of "Electronic Companion", and there is only one short sentence in the description: "PBS 1971-1977". Well, if it is really produced by PBS, it would be better to watch it while sleeping.

Mission Log – Solar Day 41 (2)

Ponies spent all day today huddled around my bed watching this stupid, pedantic, childish and utterly fucked up show. This kind of thing happens day after day, almost becoming a daily routine. The same was true before watching the Patchoji family, and there was even momentum to replace it.

Starlight had just woken up. She changed her position and threw herself on the bed so that she could see the screen more easily. It's pathetic, she looks absolutely exhausted, but still chatters at me in her broken English so that I can put down my diary and give them another episode.

I feel like the next days should be smoother. But this could also be an illusion caused by drug use.

[Note:]

1. Carapace/Heavy Frosting: See CSP Chapter 1. He is a spy bug from the Hive who once worked undercover in Central City. He has experience as a chef. (Here “Frost” can be interpreted as “icing sugar”.)

2. Cinnamon Challenge: Cinnamon powder challenge, a sand sculpture challenge that was previously popular in foreign countries, challenges people to swallow a large spoonful of cinnamon powder and record the entire process on video. The picture is not described.