The planet didnt have a name. That was partly due to the fact that the organic population was calculated to be hypothetically, a staggering 0.001% of what life could theoretically support in a nitrogen- and carbon-based atmosphere. Low enough for the Federation to not give a fuck about even naming the poor planet.
It only caught Earth's attention when radio signals — precisely three beeps per minute — began broadcasting steadily on a common frequency originating from this said planet. The signal blipped onto long-range radar and promptly startled a few underpaid interns that were just talking on how Caesium is the best element.
The pentagon immediately got NASA's top minds working on the project, and after enough leaks and after years of prosecution, the files were released to the public at mass, triggering another arms-race war(if you could even call it that). The majority of the population was in awe of it but once it was revealed that the exoplanet contained diamonds( which was really just carbon disguised under a fancier name),in abundance, the majoritiy of the population was in favour of it.
But all those votes didn't really matter to Tinker.
His life was flashing right through his eyes as stray dust swirled around his eyebrows, blood trickling down to his eyes. His eyes were following the horrified looks of his crewmates' faces as they saved their own lives.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS IT DOING HERE?!"
"IT WASN'T IN THE SCANS!"
"WHY IS IT LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT?!"
"RUN, YOU IDIOTS! RUN!"
And run oh they did.
Tinker, real name: Tinker Maximus, which is a shame because he was never really brave. He gave more priority in sneaking into the science lab during recess just to play around with the chemicals, looking and gazing over every other equipment in the lab with utmost precision, with a wary gaze on the door so as to hide if it were to open up suddenly.
But in truth, he'd wished someone found him. Only to open up that he would be a scientist. He wanted to confide in a trusting figure in his life but to his dismay, that never really happened, crediting to the laziness of the Convent School Teachers.
He blinked slowly. If he was going to die here, he hoped it would be quick, painless, and not involve CIA tier torture. Tinker wondered if the dinosaur-like creature would tear his head apart or maybe enjoy him tearing his limbs apart one by one, like a fancy fine dining dish?
It was all too much for him, so he just closed his eyes and took a nap right then and there. Tinker dreamed of a million better ways to die than being a dinosaur's toy. Then he started to dream about aliens. How life forms would look like if they evolved from this planet.
Tall. Slender. Cloaked in strands of greenish fiber that shimmered in the air like jelly fish
They would probably speak in tones that would oscillate between choral harmony and rhythmic clicks.
Tinker blinked. Once. Twice.
Then passed out, because honestly, it was just easier.