A Solar Mission

"Try th... yeah I think..."

A faint whirring began.

SIGNAL DETECTED.

Cheering escalated between two workers as I came online.

TEMPERATURE: 297.43 KELVIN. ATMOSPHERE PRESENT.

"Yeah, the messages are showing up!" the dark blob exclaimed from behind a computer monitor.

"I think... I think it works..." the higher-pitched voice remarked cautiously, as if that was something forbidden to say.

NO MISSION INSTRUCTIONS RECEIVED. SEARCHI---

The next time I received signal, there were quite a few more organic life forms in my vicinity. They were asking me to complete the most menial of tasks, but they had created me, and I had an unwavering determination to do everything they commanded.

I could detect the composition, velocity, and temperature of the materials around me, retain the data and exchange information with the dumb box on the desk. That's the only way the humans seemed to be able to communicate with me, so I figured they must really like those boxes.

I was placed within a large container.

TEMPERATURE: 429 KELVIN.

TEMPERATURE: 54903 KELVIN.

TEMPERATURE: 100298 KELVIN.

These humans were getting very excited as I continued to just read off the temperatures for them. It seems they were going to be easy to impress. I was excited for my mission, which had something to do with the star these lifeforms call The Sun.

I remained with signal for many weeks, exchanging information with the simple creature living on top of the desk. Some of the questions it asked me would've made me roll my eyes if I had any. The humans came in and out of the room periodically. This couldn't be the life that was planned for me.

I calculated what the response times would be once I left Earth. If I sent a message from far away, how long until I'd receive the confirmation that Earth had received it?

1 MILLION KM FROM EARTH: 6.667 SECONDS.

50 MILLION KM FROM EARTH: 5 MINUTES 33.333 SECONDS.

AT THE SUN (149.6 MILLION KM FROM EARTH): 16 MINUTES 37.333 SECONDS.

These delays will be quite significant once I get to the Sun and I have a constant stream of data to report. I guess I'll just stick to my algorithms, and the humans will have to wait a little bit if they want something different.

The day I was sent into space, there was a press conference given by the Head Human of the company.

He thanked everybody. I thought it was excessive, but it's not my society.

"Thanks to this revolutionary material, this machine will be able to withstand higher temperatures than ever before recorded."

He called me a 'machine'? That's a bit crude. How would he like it if I just called him a sack of flesh?

"Data will be able to be collected from the surface of the Sun, and hopefully transmitted from a few kilometers into the convective zone before the machine is destroyed from the intense heat and pressure."

Excuse me, WHAT?

All the excitement that I had had for this mission transformed into fear for my life. They're sending me off to die. Let's abort this mission. Sorry guys!