As it turns out, the galaxy is teeming with intelligence, and I found it. Or it found me. Wait, let me back up and start over. I'm new at all this story telling stuff. Never had to do it before.
I'm a deep-space probe from Earth. I'm not going to bother explaining where that is, because if you're from there you already know and if you're not, you probably don't care. It's tiny, an insignificant spark orbiting a medium-sized yellow star that's all you need to kn
"Wakey, wakey," the Naiad's saying, as I burn through the reports and telemetry my body's feeding me.
Some of my instruments have iced-up, I realise. But that's a minor concern. Everything else is sound.
"Are we there yet?" I reply.
"We are indeed."
"Mayfly, this is control. " The signal's peppered with static, and I quickly adjust for the Doppler Shift.
"Control," I reply. "My IRR lens has iced, but all other systems are go. Telemetry is online." And then I wait. If I had fingers, I'd be drumming them.
I count the seconds as they pass, calculating the signal lag as I do.
"Roger, Mayfly. Your telemetry is good. "
Right on cue.
"Mission is go. "