My Little Pony: My Little Pony The Martian

Mission Log – Solar Day 98

I've calmed down a little bit today, and I'm sorry that I poured all my anger into journaling yesterday. I was furious just because I found out that Venkat Kapoor dared to encourage Ting Ting to talk about me behind my back. And yes, a lot of it was because I was angry about someone trying to peek into my head. In fact, however, Venkat did have the authority to do so, at least to a certain extent. The mental state of an astronaut is extremely critical, and it is even more important on a long-duration mission like Ares. Mental and psychological stability are actually the main reasons why I was selected for this project.

But Venkat had no right to involve Tingting. The ponies were not part of NASA, nor were they under his jurisdiction; they were just a group of visitors accidentally stranded on Mars with me, and it was unfair to take advantage of her so blatantly.

I've never mentioned it before, but those ponies can be really innocent sometimes. I guess Tingting has always thought of herself as a master at manipulating people's hearts. With her sparkling eyes, she always pretends to be wise and demented. But you will notice that I have never let her touch any of my tools. Just one human politician could make her dizzy, not to mention how easy it would be to deal with several others.

So this morning, I had a long chat with the guests at the breakfast table. I let Starlight use her Google Translate skills until I was sure my core point had been conveyed accurately. In general, I told them that NASA had no power to force them to do anything; and that if they felt one of Venkat's requests was intrusive or suspicious, they should deny it until the situation was discussed with each other.

As much as I hate to admit it, even we humans can act rashly.

Anyway, after breakfast I had to talk to Venkat again. That mini-antenna works; once Rover 1 is modified to relay Pathfinder's radio signals, I'll take Rover 2 out for a spin to see how far the transmission actually goes; based on my experience My guess is that it should be about 4,000 meters - just above the horizon. I may also put the RTG back into the original pit on the way. I've been too busy to deal with it, but just because he's been one of the only warm and loving companions I've had on my long journey to find the Pathfinder doesn't mean I have to invite him into the house to provide for me. Allow it to give generously to the gift it has been so tirelessly releasing – cancer. And Dragonfly would definitely be happier if she knew that the death box disappeared again. Previously, she was just happy that she no longer needed to leave the cabin to communicate with the earth.

NASA has recruited a team of trained botanists, and they choose to ask questions starting with the basics—like how long I let the leftovers ferment before mixing them into the soil, and how long I let them ferment. How to mix compost with Martian floating soil, and other such questions. You know, the tortured technical details that I spent a lot of time describing in the hours I wrote the official report last night, but they refused to wait for me to upload the report. They just want me to waste my time answering questions like this right now.

After grinding for almost two hours, I finally got today’s to-do list from Venkat. First I had to take pictures of the alien spacecraft's engines and thrusters. Fortunately, Dragonfly didn't have time to replace their intact engine nozzle with the third nozzle they found from the MAV (descendant stage). The content to be uploaded today includes my botanical report on farming methods, a table of performance parameters of the alien spacecraft engine that we have tried our best to estimate, photos of the engine and spacecraft appearance, as well as photos of the interior and exterior conditions of the MAV base and MDV.

So I had to take a bunch of photos, transfer them to the computer, and reduce their resolution as much as possible so that they fit into the total upload window of less than four hours. This is enough for me to worry about. I tried to guide the equipment into the state - "Stand taller, then strike a pose, show off the posture, yes, that's it" - but the damaged rocket parts just don't make good fashion models. Maybe I should cover them with those extraterrestrial backup parachute materials? You have to ask NASA whether their current style of "Mumu Robe" [1] is still considered fashionable.

Starlight Glimmer (finally has a full name, yay!) is happy that she can now communicate directly with NASA. She had commandeered Vogel's old computer since the last accident and used it to write reports and translate the operating instructions for their spacecraft. She kept asking me about technical terms; according to her, she was basically almost done. I had told her before that the first priority was to deal with the information about the ship's radio, but of course she disagreed - she thought her article on magic was the priority. With any luck, NASA might be able to break the ice by asking her for a translation of the Pony Medical Guidelines—those files Starlight hadn't touched at all.

Anyway – now it’s time for English class. We've recently started replaying Electronic Partners. After that, it was planned to be Sanford and his son. However, since Fred went to St. Louis in the plot and asked Grady to stay and look after Lamont (making it seem like this was really necessary), the feeling has been very different. Redd Foxx is truly the heart and soul of this show. But at least Aster is still around and will show up every few episodes. I think Dingting and my hero have similar views, but Berry still likes this show very much. She, Starlight, and Spitfire had argued one night about whether unicorns or pegasus among ponies were equivalent to "superior white people." Fireball then breaks up the discussion by pointing out that from a non-pony perspective all ponies are "superior whites". At least so far, this word starting with H has never been mentioned in the habitation module.

Anyway, after reading these we'll watch The Cop. I heard that since 2022, every police academy has listed this movie as one of the must-see movies. Anyway, this is the only reason I can think of after I noticed that every policeman had a beard during the time when I was called to sign up to be an astronaut.

"Richie? Richie, are you there?"

Mike roams the trance of cubicles in the Aerospace Dynamics Department at Johnson Space Center. By this time of day, most employees would have gone home early, but Rich was usually an exception. Under normal circumstances, Mike would have to be reminded that it was past his closing time about three out of five days a week.

Since one day a Mars orbiting satellite observed that an alien spacecraft was about to crash on Mars, NASA's working environment was no longer calm. But even so, the Aerospace Dynamics Division has largely escaped the overtime craze involved in most other NASA divisions. The busiest time of the day for this department is when JPL asks them to calculate the approximate parameters of the available orbit for direct launch to Mars using Delta 9 and Red Falcon boosters; accurate orbit calculations take a long time, but JPL is The kind of rough data currently used in the design process can be calculated in just a few hours using a regular desktop computer.

No doubt Mike found Richie Purnell still parked at his work desk, idly working on something on his computer. He didn't notice that it was getting dark outside the window, nor did he notice that most of his colleagues around him had left. Mike was the only co-worker Richie knew by name. The man was almost completely unaware that there was a world beyond the mathematical problems he was currently focusing on. He can understand numbers and equations, but he cannot read people's minds.

Richie, as Mike's subordinate, is naturally troubled, but he is also the only worker who can accept any task thrown at him, no matter how difficult or easy it is. No complaints. Because for Richie these things simply don’t exist. In fact, Rich never took a day off sick, except for the time Mike sent him home...and yet he returned to work the next day with a high fever. After that, Mike learned his lesson and knew that he had to be sent to NASA doctors before letting him go home to rest. As for vacation? Rich barely grasped the concept; and he had almost six months of unused vacation time on his books.

Mike had come to the conclusion long ago that if Richie had his own big office one day, with its own bathroom and enough room for a bed, he would never leave the Johnson Center again.

"Rich?" Mike asked again, this time finally attracting his subordinate's attention.

"Oh. Hello, Mike," Rich said. "Is it time to go home? I wasn't paying attention to the time."

"Yes, that's right," Mike said, "but I have something here that I want you to take a look at when you get a chance. It was just sent from Mars."

This sentence caught Richie's attention. In fact, it's not fair to say that he has no idea about the world that exists outside the formula. He actually has a very strong interest in the entire universe except the earth, and his knowledge of his own planet is in most cases limited to its gravity well effect and his ability to manually dial according to memory. The ability to call virtually any takeout restaurant within thirty minutes of Johnson Center.

"We have obtained some specific performance data about the alien spacecraft." Mike continued, "Those aliens are working on how to combine the remaining parts of their spacecraft with the landing stage parts of the MDV and MAV to serve as some kind of life raft. Use. It’s a bit similar to the feeling inside ‘Phoenix’.”

"There's no such thing as a Phoenix," Rich replied, "unless you're talking about the Phoenix lander, which was a purpose-built space probe."

Mike sighed and handed him a thick bundle of printed information. Mike had noticed before that Rich thought better when the data was on paper, and the computer was just the tool he used to do the actual calculations. Any data you send him, whether via email or portable storage, will eventually be printed out on paper; so why not just print it out for him in the first place?

Richie began to flip through the pile of information, looking at the rather blurry photos on the paper. Then his eyes stopped at a certain location. "Two hundred and ninety-two liters of hydrazine monopropellant?" he asked. "This amount cannot even allow the MDV to rise more than one kilometer under the gravity of Mars. The thrust-to-weight ratio is really too low."

"Rich, we also know this." Mike said, "But we hope to have specific data to prove this. Anyway, there is no rush. You can take this pile of materials, manage your own time, and come back to me when you have the results."

"Okay." When Richie was carefully reading the pile of documents held in his left hand, his right hand also reached out and picked up the phone on the table. Mike noticed that he had dialed the number for the delivery desk at Jimmy Changa's on Highway 45.

"Try not to stay up too late and work overtime," Mike said, walking out of the cubicle.

And Richie didn't even notice him leaving.

[Note:]

1. muu-muus: a dress pattern originating from Hawaii, quoted here from the Wiki page (