Chen Hao stared at the "Print Complete" message that popped up on the screen, his finger still hovering over the button. Nana's voice came through the headphones right on time.

"Performance testing is ready. Do you wish to start?"

He withdrew his hand, leaned back in his chair, and stretched. "We've been waiting forever, aren't you going to start? Hurry up."

“Command confirmed,” Nana said. “System self-check has started and is expected to take 108 minutes.”

The large screen in front of the main control console lit up instantly, and rows of progress bars changed from gray to green. Energy module, propulsion system, navigation array, life support... more than thirty testing items were launched in sequence.

Carl had already gotten up and was walking out, carrying the detector in his hand. "I'm going to connect the sensors outside the cabin. I'll complete the deployment within ten minutes."

"Don't get stuck at the exhaust port again," Chen Hao warned. "Last time you climbed in, you almost got caught in the automatic locking mechanism."

“That time it was because you triggered the test process prematurely,” Carl said without turning his head. “This time I’m bringing a manual switch.”

Nana's calm voice rang in their ears: "This test has seven key indicators, and a pass rate of over 95% is required to be considered qualified. The current estimated pass rate is 82%."

"Only eighty-two?" Chen Hao frowned. "Didn't they say it was fixed?"

“Complete repair does not mean stable performance,” she said. “Just like a patient discharged from the hospital, they still need to be checked.”

He rolled his eyes. "Can't you say something auspicious? You have to be colder than a doctor."

“I’m just stating the facts,” Nana paused, “but according to data model projections, the actual probability of meeting the target is rising. It’s currently at 86%.

Chen Hao grinned. "That's more like it, charge forward!"

Ten minutes later, Carl's voice came from outside the ship: "Outer sensor deployment complete, signal synchronization normal."

"Received," Nana replied. "Starting Phase One: Power Output Test."

A 3D model of the engine bay popped up in the center of the screen, with temperature, pressure, and current curves changing in sync. A few seconds later, the ion thrusters slowly lit up, and a blue-white halo spread across the parking platform.

"Thrust applied to 30%," Nana reported. "No abnormal vibrations, fuel flow rate stable."

"Keep increasing the load." Chen Hao stared at the data. "Up to full capacity."

"Warning: Thruster activation delayed by 0.3 seconds," the system suddenly announced.

Chen Hao immediately sat up straight. "What does this mean? Are we going to be stuck here again?"

“This is within the normal fluctuation range.” Nana pulled up a comparison chart. “Historical data for similar models shows that the average delay time is 0.28 seconds. This result is within the error range.”

"Then why did you call the police just now?"

“The safety protocol requires that all deviations from the baseline value be marked,” she answered confidently, “even if it’s only 0.01.”

“You robots are really serious.” He shook his head. “Fine, let’s try again.”

The second ignition went much more smoothly, with the thrusters responding almost synchronously. The third and fourth tests were repeated consecutively, and the results were exactly the same.

“Stability confirmed,” Nana announced. “Peak thrust has reached 103% of the design standard.”

"Even more powerful than before?" Chen Hao whistled. "Looks like the welding is pretty good."

“It’s not just welding,” Carl’s voice came through the communication channel. “The outer shell uses three layers of composite material, which significantly improves heat dissipation efficiency. Just now, when running at full power, the temperature rise of the outer wall was seven degrees lower than expected.”

"So that means it can run for longer?"

“It can run even faster,” Carl said, “provided the flight path allows.”

Next came navigation calibration. The spacecraft autonomously locked onto three positioning satellites and performed orbital simulation calculations. All ten rounds of testing passed, with the error controlled within 0.003 arcseconds.

"This level of precision is so good, you could hit a mosquito in the head." Chen Hao slammed his hand on the table.

“The target is too small; it is not recommended to use the spacecraft's weapon system for such an attempt,” Nana replied seriously.

He paused for two seconds, then burst out laughing. "You actually take it seriously?"

“Any request for action should be taken seriously,” she said, “even if it’s in a joking manner.”

Life support system testing begins. Air circulation, moisture recovery, and temperature control are verified one by one. Oxygen purity is 99.7%, carbon dioxide concentration is below 0.04%, and humidity is maintained at a constant 45%.

"It's even more comfortable than the base." Chen Hao took a breath. "I don't want to come out once I'm inside."

"Prolonged periods in a confined environment may trigger psychological problems," Nana cautioned. "It is recommended to schedule time for outdoor activities each day."

"Are you worried I'll gain weight?" He touched his stomach. "I've already lost five pounds, okay?"

“Your weight change record shows that you secretly ate three packs of high-calorie compressed biscuits last week,” she said, “and lied about your intake.”

He was speechless for a moment. "...How did you even remember this?"

“All supplies consumed are recorded,” Nana said, her tone unchanged. “Including the half-bottle of nutrient solution you drank in the tool shed.”

"So I'm invisible?" he muttered. "I have absolutely no privacy."

“Privacy permissions can be turned off upon request,” she said, “but this will affect the efficiency of health monitoring and emergency response.”

"Never mind, never mind." He waved his hand. "I'd better just behave myself."

The structural stress test has entered its final stage. The pressure is gradually increased to simulate the high-pressure environment of deep space, and the stress distribution in various parts of the hull is displayed in real time. The main frame, connecting shafts, and hatch seals all perform well.

“The last item,” Nana said, “the extreme pressure test of the keel area, begin.”

The scene shifts to the bottom of the stern, where the spacecraft's core supporting structure is located. The pressure readings are slowly rising, and the deformation monitoring lines are fluctuating slightly.

Suddenly, Nana's voice changed tone.

"A slight deformation was detected, with a deformation rate of 0.07%."

Chen Hao was taken aback. "How much?"

“0.07%,” she repeated. “It is below the danger threshold, but fatigue damage may accumulate during long voyages.”

How serious is it?

"It's like bending a chopstick by one millimeter," she said. "It won't break now, but if you keep using it, it might crack."

"Then what are we waiting for?" he shouted immediately. "Call Carl to come and take a look!"

“I’ve already seen it.” Carl’s voice deepened. “There’s a solder joint with the wrong color on the lower right side of the connector board.”

"Was there not enough material at the time, so you used a substitute alloy?" Chen Hao asked.

“Yes,” Carl said. “That material has poor ductility and can withstand short-term stress, but not sustained loads.”

Can it be repaired?

“It can be reinforced,” he said. “Changing materials takes too much time; just add a reinforcing patch. It can be done in two hours.”

"Let's do it then." Chen Hao slammed his hand on the table. "Anyway, the inspection isn't over yet, so let's fix it while we're at it."

“Other testing projects need to be suspended,” Nana said, “to ensure that resources are allocated centrally.”

“Stop,” he said. “We can’t go to heaven with a problem.”

The system re-planned the workflow, and other tests were temporarily frozen. Nana retrieved the repair plan, marked the specific construction areas and the required material list.

“We have sufficient stock of reinforced patches,” she said. “They are already prepared in the engineering bay.”

Carl has already begun dismantling the outer protective panel. "Let me know when you're ready; I've cleared the work area here."

"Delivered within five minutes," Nana replied.

Chen Hao stared at the red dot on the screen, his brow furrowed. "Such a small place, and it almost became a landmine."

“The more subtle the details, the easier they are to overlook,” Nana said. “That’s also the significance of testing.”

“You’re right.” He nodded. “Luckily, we found it.”

“I didn’t discover it myself,” she said. “It was an abnormal trend detected during a routine system scan. The deformation location remained consistent throughout ten consecutive stress tests, which triggered the alert.”

"So, it's been changing quietly all along?"

“Yes,” she said. “Although it is extremely slow, it begins the moment the repair is completed.”

Chen Hao was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed. "You know what, this ship is quite good at hiding its secrets."

“The spaceship has no consciousness,” Nana said, “but it can ‘talk,’ if you’re willing to listen.”

"Listen to the data?" He raised an eyebrow.

“Data is its language,” she said, “just like a heartbeat tells you your physical condition.”

"Then aren't you the one who understands it best?"

“I’m just translating,” she said calmly. “The real decision is yours.”

At this moment, the transport vehicle from the engineering module arrived at the outer side of the hull. Two logistics robots were handing the patch assembly to Carl.

"The materials have arrived," Nana reported.

“Start construction.” Carl took the tools and unscrewed the first fixing bolt.

Chen Hao leaned back in his chair, watching as the various indicators on the screen gradually returned to green. Except for the red dot that was still flashing, all the other items had passed.

"You think... we can really sail this ship out of the galaxy?"

“Currently, all quantifiable parameters support long-distance voyages,” Nana replied. “The only uncertainty is—whether we will encounter things we don’t know about in the future.”

"Nonsense." He snorted. "Who doesn't encounter accidents when they go out? The key is whether you can handle it when something happens."

“The ship is much better now than when it landed,” she said. “It gives us at least a few more chances to survive.”

"That's good." He smiled. "I don't ask for a smooth journey, I just hope it doesn't fall apart along the way."

Carl had already started soldering the patches. Sparks flickered, casting tiny spots of light on the bottom of the hull.

"The construction is expected to be completed in seventy minutes," Nana updated the status. "After completion, three more stress tests will be conducted to confirm the repair effect."

"So it's like having to retake the exam after you've already taken it?" Chen Hao sighed. "Your procedures are really strict."

"The purpose of taking exams is to avoid the exam hall," she said. "The real test is in the heavens."

He nodded and didn't say anything more.

On the main screen, each item—power system, navigation module, life support—is marked with a green checkmark. Only one remains, quietly awaiting final verification.

Chen Hao picked up the water glass on the table and took a sip. The temperature was just right, neither too hot nor too cold.

He glanced at the time.

There are 103 days left until departure.

Carl crouched at the bottom of the boat, his right hand gripping the welding torch, his left hand pressing down on the edge of the patch. The metal surface began to glow red, and molten silver lines slowly extended, firmly locking the old and new materials together.