My eyes blinked erratically, "A meteor? That is the spacecraft, a gigantic rock?"
The Quibly Science Brigade crossed their arms and danced their fingers in hesitation, "Jerm, meteors cross through Earth's atmosphere all the time. No one will bat an eye."
Roughly the size of three Quiblys, the meteor spacecraft seemed very unsafe and rather elementary.
The Science Brigade showed me graphs and charts along with pages and pages of data from tests to calm my worries.
It was like expecting a weeble (Earth's puppy) and getting a goofenstein (Earth's hermit crab).
As I calculated my chances of survival soaring through space in a giant rock, my emotional meter pegged out again.
My mother's voice rang gently in my ear, "Be calm Jerm. This is your destiny."
Without a moment's hesitation, I was ready to fly.
This whole journey was bigger than me; it was for all Quibly kind.
The meteor spacecraft opened like a dillistun (Earth's clam).
The mission was officially underway.