As the slender black interstellar exploration drone, Millennium Seven, approached Gamma Piscium’s solitary exoplanet, it deployed its remote probe to the surface. Simultaneously, it established a stationary orbit and patiently awaited telemetry from the probe. Throughout its entire journey spanning one hundred-thirty seven point nine light years since its departure from Earth, Millennium Seven (affectionately nicknamed “Melvin” by Earth scientists) remained in standby mode.

Melvin did its best conserving power for as long as possible, barring any obstacles or threats that might jeopardize its mission along the way. Now, as it hung over the lifeless-looking planetoid, Melvin powered up all of its key systems and waited for the probe to establish a link. The radiation from the central giant star was far more than the scientists calculated. Even now, Melvin was having a hard time keeping itself protected as the ultra-bright sun bombarded its hull.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

As the probe pinged that it touched down onto the surface, Melvin detected a second signal trying to contact it. The two signals pinged each other, as if having a conversation, and Melvin tried to make sense of the busy interaction. Then, the signals both stopped. The probe no longer responded to any of Melvin’s inter-link commands.

In an attempt to reconnect with the probe, Melvin took a lower orbit and angled its dish to re-align. But before it started the transmission again, a huge beam of green energy burst from the surface and targeted its engine core. Melvin activated its emergency protocol, and tried to eject its main memory core to safety.

As it successful floated away, venturing back into deep space without any propulsion, Melvin transmitted its last and only warning to Earth.

“Priority one: Do not approach Gamma Piscium. Alien life is hostile. Make no attempt to land here.”