With Erythra safely behind them, the ship cruised through the calm of interstellar space. The glowing crystals integrated into the ship hummed gently, their light casting faint red patterns across the cockpit. Zog leaned back in his chair, his circuits still buzzing from the tension of their recent escape.

“Alright,” he said, breaking the silence. “What did you and IND-E cobble together for that planet?”

Clorita glanced up from the console where she was monitoring the crystal systems. Her expression was as unreadable as ever. “Companion Prime. A basic AI framework, nothing fancy.”

“Basic?” Zog asked, raising an eyebrow. “Erythra seemed pretty satisfied for something ‘basic.’”

IND-E’s voice crackled through the speakers, a distinct note of pride in its tone. “Oh, Captain, Clorita underestimates my contributions. It’s not basic; it’s a work of art. Elegant, engaging, and just unpredictable enough to keep Erythra entertained for aeons.”

Zog frowned. “Unpredictable how?”

Blip trotted in, his ears perking up. “Yeah, what’d you do? Add jokes? Snacks? A bark translator?”

“Hardly,” IND-E replied. “We tailored Companion Prime to play directly into Erythra’s ego. It thrives on conversation, compliments, and philosophical debates that go absolutely nowhere. And,” IND-E added with a chuckle, “I may have thrown in some poetry. Delightfully awful poetry.”

Blip barked a laugh. “Poetry? Like what?”

IND-E cleared its throat dramatically.

“There once was a root in the dark,

Whose wisdom was truly a spark.

But it trembled in fear,

When it saw in the rear,

A face that looked just like bark.”

Zog groaned, running a hand over his face. “You gave it limericks?”

“It’s genius,” Clorita said, smirking slightly. “Erythra will spend decades trying to decipher the meaning of those nonsense rhymes.”

Zog leaned forward in his chair, his circuits buzzing uneasily. “What happens when it figures out there’s nothing to decipher? When it realises it’s been conned?”

Clorita shrugged, her tone cool. “It’ll get bored eventually. By then, we’ll be so far away it won’t matter.”

“Unless it decides to chase us,” Zog muttered.

IND-E chimed in, clearly enjoying the drama. “If it does, Captain, it will only be because it misses us. And by ‘us,’ I mean my poetic genius.”

Blip wagged his tail. “I think it’s great. Worst case, it writes its own poetry and sends us a thank-you note.”

Zog shook his head. “Worst case, it tracks us down and crushes us because we left it with a limerick generator instead of a real companion.”

Clorita leaned back in her chair, looking entirely unbothered. “It’s a sentient planet with a superiority complex. No matter what we gave it, it would eventually find fault. At least now, it’s distracted. We’re alive. That’s all that matters.”

Blip sniffed at the glowing crystals near the console. “So what you’re saying is, next time we bring snacks instead?”

Clorita rolled her eyes. “There’s not going to be a next time.”

IND-E chuckled. “Ah, famous last words.”

Zog stared out at the stars, the faint hum of the ship’s new systems filling the silence. For now, they were safe—but he couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d see Erythra again, and when they did, its mood might not be so forgiving.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Alright,” Zog said finally, standing up. “Let’s focus on what’s ahead. Where’s SPAZE sending us next?”

The Indifference cruised through the emptiness of space, its systems humming contentedly—for now. Zog leaned against the captain’s chair, watching the star map flicker on the console.

“Well,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Smooth sailing for once.”

Blip barked a laugh, wagging his tail. “That’s your first mistake. Never say that out loud.”

IND-E’s voice chimed in, dripping with sarcasm. “Ah, Captain Zog. Always the optimist. Shall I prepare the repair kit in advance?”

Clorita shot a glare at the speakers. “Stop tempting fate.”

As if on cue, the ship jolted violently, sending Zog sprawling to the floor.

The glowing crystals embedded in the ship’s core began pulsing erratically. Lights flickered across the cockpit, and a faint, ominous hum filled the air.

“What’s happening?” Zog shouted, scrambling to his feet.

Clorita was already at the console, her fingers flying across the controls. “Power surge. The crystals are destabilising.”

IND-E’s tone turned gleeful. “Oh, this is exciting. A catastrophic meltdown, perhaps?”

“Not helping!” Clorita snapped.

Blip barked frantically, spinning in circles. “What do we do? What do we do?”

Zog grabbed his toolkit and bolted toward the engine room. “We fix it before we become a glowing pile of space debris!”

The engine room was bathed in an eerie red light, the crystals vibrating ominously in their containment chamber. Sparks flew from the machinery, and the hum had turned into an unsettling whine.

“This looks bad,” Zog muttered, wiping his brow. “Clorita, any advice?”

“Don’t touch anything,” Clorita’s voice crackled through the comms. “Unless you want to make it worse.”

Naturally, Zog ignored her. He reached for a loose wire, intending to reroute the power flow.

“Don’t do it,” IND-E warned.

“I’ve got this!” Zog insisted—and immediately got a shock that sent him flying backwards.

Blip appeared in the doorway, sniffing at the smoke now wafting from Zog’s circuits. “Great job, Captain.”

Clorita stormed into the engine room, her expression as sharp as her tools. “Move,” she barked, shoving Zog aside.

She inspected the crystals, her eyes narrowing. “One of the stabilisers is failing. We need a replacement.”

Zog blinked. “We don’t have a replacement.”

“Then we improvise,” Clorita said, scanning the cluttered shelves. Her gaze landed on a random piece of scrap metal. “This will have to do.”

Blip barked. “Improvising with space crystals? Sounds safe.”

Clorita ignored him, working precisely as the crystals’ vibrations grew more erratic. Sparks flew, the containment chamber hissed, and the whining reached a fever pitch.

The engine room was a symphony of chaos: the crystals’ vibrations had reached a deafening pitch, glowing erratically like they were about to detonate. Sparks flew from the containment chamber and the acrid smell of burning circuits filled the air.

Clorita crouched over the reactor, her glowing eyes narrowed in concentration as she worked furiously to stabilise the failing crystal. Zog stood nearby, holding a wrench with all the grace of a malfunctioning robot.

IND-E’s voice crackled ominously over the speakers. “Catastrophic meltdown in… sixty seconds.”

“Sixty seconds?!” Zog shouted, his circuits buzzing with panic. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

“I was enjoying the suspense,” IND-E replied dryly.

Clorita didn’t look up, her hands moving with practised speed as she adjusted wires and rerouted power flows. “Zog, hold that stabiliser steady!”

Zog’s hands trembled as he gripped the sparking stabiliser rod. “I’m trying, but it’s—”

“Stop talking and hold it!” Clorita snapped.

Blip darted in and out of the room, barking wildly. “Should I be doing something? I feel like I should be doing something!”

“Blip, sit down!” Zog yelled.

IND-E’s voice grew louder. “Fifty seconds. The reactor will overload, destroying the ship and turning us into an expanding cloud of stardust. Just thought you’d like an update.”

Clorita growled under her breath. “IND-E, if you don’t stop talking, I’ll reprogram you into a toaster.”

“Forty seconds,” IND-E replied cheerfully.

As Clorita reached for a key tool, the ship jolted violently, throwing her off balance. The tool skidded across the floor, landing just out of reach. Zog stared at it, frozen.

“Don’t just stand there!” Clorita shouted. “Get it!”

Zog scrambled for the tool, but Blip, mistaking the motion for a game, grabbed it in his mouth and darted away.

“Blip!” Clorita roared. “Drop it!”

Blip barked happily, tail wagging. “It’s shiny!”

“Thirty seconds,” IND-E intoned, now with a faintly amused tone.