Sorry for being horribly late on this... I got distracted. That's all I can say, really. Danganronpa is very fun to write about. But here we are, back again with Mindy Park, Space Paparazzi! So, here ya go!

We're less than an hour away from talking to Mark. Minutes. Seconds. It's started to blur together, and my eyes are fighting to stay open.

Waiting for Mark's signal to transmit was both exhilarating and exhausting. The signal took thirty minutes to transmit because of distance, and that's not counting how old Pathfinder is. Thirty-eight years, are you kidding me!?

The rest of the team wasn't much better off. I can feel the fear and impatience saturating the air. Waiting, and waiting, and waiting. It'll be well worth it. I had to remind myself that fact several times. I scanned the room, leaning back against one of the support pillars, the cool concrete a massive relief against my back.

My hair was tied into a bun, sort of. I just grabbed as much hair as I could and shoved it through a binder. I leveled a glare at Pathfinder. You made me this way, you damn robot. Another part of my mind argued that it was because I was so concerned over Watney's welfare. I subsequently crushed it into the back of my mind. So not the time. I continued to glower at the lander.

Work, damn you! Come on! I thought darkly, my stare unwavering. Pathfinder didn't move. I looked at the satellite images. Absolutely nothing. I groaned quietly. He had gone inside a few minutes ago, and we were all impatient.

Well, impatient was the wrong word. It was more like terrified. If he didn't get Pathfinder to work, all of this was for nothing. He would slowly waste away on a desolate planet, alone. My eyes stung at the thought.

A whirring noise from the lander brought me back to the present. Pathfinder was moving. My shout of excitement brought everyone back to their senses, sprinting to their respective computers. I leapt to the air, nearly bowling over another engineer. I didn't have time to say sorry, though.

"Hey, hey, look at this." Tim, one of the computer engineers said. I jumped around the desk, watching a pile of images sorting themselves out. Slowly, agonizingly so, it formed into a rough square.

"Do you read me? Yes/No." It read. I could've cried. He did it.

"Turn towards 'yes'!" I shouted, crushing down a bout of hysterical giggling. The technician seemed ready to argue with me, or say something sarcastic, but he just nodded fearfully when I leveled a piercing, disdain-filled glare. I walked back to my spot by the wall.

I deflated, slumping against the wall with a satisfied smile on my face. I don't know if there is a God out there, but if there is, he's on our side; for now at least. My smile faltered at the thought, but I distracted myself, pulling up the Satellite feed. I started giggling. A few of my coworkers edged away from me (read: sprinted away). I didn't mind.

Mark Watney, the Martian, the most famous man in the entire world, was dancing on the face of the fourth planet from the Sun, again. I let out an undignified snort. Was there ever going to be a day where he didn't amuse me? I think not! I mentally crowed, kicking my legs excitedly. I looked like a child, but honestly, I could care less. This was too exciting to stay still.

And to think, three months ago I would've been nursing a cup of coffee and staring at blurry images of who-knows-what. I have to say, this is better. The lander started to move, and I kicked off the floor, practically skipping to the computer. After a few moments, another image appeared on the screen.

"The hell is he doing?" I heard Venkat mutter from somewhere behind me. For once, I didn't have an answer. Lucky for us, the computer engineer, Tim, did. I'm not sure why, but apparently computer intelligence equated to lack of people skills. I shrugged carelessly, I wasn't entirely surprised. It was me during high school, after all.

"He's setting up a hexadecimal alphabet." My eyes widened. Why on Earth... or, Mars, was Watney the lowest ranked? He was smarter than I was. Maybe. He had the Devil's luck, that's for sure. I could use some of that.

"Okay, you heard him! Set it up!" I barked, spurring the engineers into action. Venkat eyed me approvingly. He probably shouldn't. I'm probably going to steal his job, at this rate.

"Does this make you the Director of all things Mark Watney?" He smirked at me. Honestly, I probably was at this point, considering all the effort I put into the man.

"I guess so, Mister Kapoor. I guess this means I'm in charge." I batted my eyelashes at him, and sauntered over to Pathfinder. Venkat was left speechless. "You're too easy, Venkat. This is why Annie is in charge of Public Relations!" I called out, ignoring the colorful speech that he threw my way. Too easy.

I began to help set up the hexadecimals. I'd never used them, personally. Contrary to popular belief, I wasn't that great with computers, I'd totally forgotten after high school. I just knew how to do things. Mindy things. My things were satellites. Maybe I should build them; I tapped my chin thoughtfully, pondering the idea. I didn't give it much thought, forcing myself back into the real world.

The hexadecimals were fairly easy to set up, but that left us with a lot of time to figure out what we were going to say, theoretically. The problem with that was, we didn't actually have a lot of time. Mark had gone to bed several hours before, leaving us here, in a warehouse, to sleep, and figure out what we were going to say, and how we were going to transfer the code to him, so we could talk normally, which would take a very long time.

I snorted humorlessly.

Normally was a little bit of a stretch, considering the several hundred million mile distance. But that's all semantics; boring stuff. I didn't want to be bored doing my job. Again, I stared at the slowly dropping engineers curiously. Oh, that's right. We haven't slept since... I'm not entirely sure, actually. I gave the satellites one final once-over before I began to doze off myself.

I was back in SatCon, thankfully looking at a different planet than Mars. Saturn loomed in front of the camera, a silent behemoth of gas and stone. I knew, that underneath the peaceful top layer, was a world unlivable to nearly anything. Harsh and cold. Rather poetic, I thought. I stood from my desk, not bothering to notice that I was the only person here. I stepped into the hall, only to be met head-on by someone's face. I bounced off, clutching my forehead as the stranger did the same.

"Mindy?" I looked up, focusing on the face and it all suddenly faded away.

"Mindy?" I scrunched my face, protesting at the light filling my eyes. What a weird dream. Venkat shook me awake. It was time to send Watney a message. I watched with bleary eyes as the camera on top of Pathfinder swiveled around to point at various letters.

"Whassit sayin'?" I slurred tiredly, yawning. I reached up on top of my head, feeling a plume of white-blonde hair. I suppressed a groan. No one else looked too hot, either. It didn't make me feel much better though.

"It says 'how are you alive?'. Or, 'how alive?' to be precise." Venkat informed me. I checked my phone. It was early in the morning, here, and on Mars. I hope he's awake. I continued to stare at Pathfinder, using it as a focal point to try to keep myself conscious.

"It'll take him a while to decipher it, Mindy. Why don't you get some more sleep? You worked yourself pretty hard yesterday." I stared at him, glassy-eyed, before I nodded. I slumped back to the floor, padded by cardboard. It didn't take long to fall asleep again. I woke up again, half an hour later, to Venkat shaking me.

"Mindy, come on, he responded!" He said. Venkat paused, hearing a quiet shuffling, and turned around, where I was already at the computer, a wide, sleepy smile on my face. I surreptitiously wiped the drool off of my cheek, focusing on the words on screen.

"I'm okay. Impaled by antenna, destroyed my biomonitor. Crew was right in leaving. Not their fault." My smiled was tinged by sadness. Poor guy. He had so much to worry about. Too bad we were just giving him more.

"Send him the code." Venkat said. Tim nodded, making Pathfinder's camera spin in nearly random patterns. I really hoped Mark was awake. This didn't seem easy to read; but then again, it turned really slow. I shrugged, and fidgeted impatiently. This was nearly too much excitement for me. My smile didn't waver.

"We're so close!" I said to Venkat. He gave a tired nod, nearly stumbling over his feet. I helped him to the floor.

"Hey, uh, Mindy." I looked down curiously at him. "Since you're the Director of Mark, you get to talk to him." He spoke drearily, and I wished that he wasn't serious. He was, and I couldn't argue with him because he slumped over onto his side, sleeping the sleep of the just.

"Damn it." I fumed, stomping past the now asleep Venkat. "I'm barely awake myself and he makes me talk to the guy, on a nationally broadcasted channel." I pouted childishly for a few minutes. We still had to wait for Mark to install the code anyways, so I had a few minutes to think. I'd need to be familiar, yet formal at the same time; I couldn't let him think he was talking to a robot or, god forbid, Sanders. I hate you with a fiery passion, Venkat, so much. My small mental tirade of hatred was cut short by none other than Mark Watney himself. Communications were online; it was show time. I pulled up to the desk, hands shaky as I began to type in my first sentence.

Mark, this is Mindy Park. We've been watching you since Sol 54. It sounds very creepy but believe me, it's not. We're all rooting for you, especially me. From one mechanical engineer to another; you've done a great job. Rescue plans are still on the drawing board, but we should have something concrete soon. In the meantime, we're going to essentially throw a spaceship full of food at you. A little gift from NASA, you could say." I snorted at my own statement, Bruce echoing my sentiments. Now we wait. I tapped my finger on the desk impatiently.

"Glad to hear it, looking forward to not dying." I rolled my eyes; even stuck on a desolate planet, the man was still a smartass. The next message sent me reeling.

"How's the crew? What was their reaction when they found out I was still alive?" Silence smothered the room in its oppressive weight. I threw my glasses onto the table, rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes. Bruce left, taking the others with him so I could think about how to word this.

"RU Receiving? –Mark." God-fucking-damn it, NASA. A bunch of cowards, the lot of you. I slammed my fist down in frustration, my discarded glasses jumping from the impact.

"Against better judgment (My judgment), NASA has decided to not inform the crew of what happened in order to keep them focused on their mission." The waiting game began again, forcing my mind into a flurry of annoyance and sadness. How could they not tell him!? This was horrifying.

"They don't know I'm alive? What the ******* ******* *******!?" I scowled at the computer. Jackass, talking to a lady like that; it wasn't even my decision! We sent him to Mars, for God's sake, he should have some semblance of manners! I angrily punched in my response.

"Watch your language, Watney! One, you're being broadcast live all over the world, and two: I am not the one who made this decision, but I AM the one who found your sorry ass, so have some respect. If we didn't know what we were doing, we wouldn't be doing it! Unless you want the Hermes crew to try and pull a U-turn in outer space, you need to trust us!" I slammed the enter key, and suddenly, the world-wide broadcast was turned off. I might have just made an ass out of myself in front of several billion people.

Woops.

Thankfully, Mark replied soon enough to save me from a cloud of self-hating embarrassment.

"Uh, sorry Mindy. It's all just a very stressful situation, you know?" I knew. "And the fact that my best friends don't even know I'm alive is kind of a punch in the face." Crap, now I felt bad. My fingers blurred as the keys clacked together, my message forming nearly instantly.

"Yeah, I know. I'm trying to convince Sanders and Kapoor to let them know, but it's slow going. I've gone from lowly satellite watcher, to the primary Satellite Technician. It's kind of why we have satellites going over you every two minutes or so. Anyways, it's dark here, and probably freezing there, so get some sleep, Mark. Stay in touch."

"You too, Mindy."

Fluffy ending, I know I know, but it's totally okay cause that's just how I roll. Seriousness with a little padding.