Prime began the countdown as the room trembled with the creature’s awakening.

“Forty-five... forty-four...”

The containment pod hissed, its power field failing. The creature’s claws broke through the glass, shards falling to the floor. It stumbled forward, its movements jerky but growing stronger.

“Thirty... twenty-nine...”

Zog fired his laser gun wildly, missing completely. “It’s not working! It’s not working!”

Clorita fired a shotgun blast, hitting the creature square in the chest. It staggered but didn’t fall.

“Fifteen... fourteen...”

The creature roared, lunging forward. Clorita grabbed Zog by the collar and yanked him toward the door.

“Prime! Now would be a great time to eject that pod!”

“Seven... six...”

The creature reached for them, its claws inches from Clorita’s face.

“Two... one.”

With a deafening whoosh the floor beneath the pod opened, and the creature was sucked into the void of space. The roar cut off abruptly as the airlock sealed shut.

Clorita leaned against the wall, catching her breath. “Well. That was fun.”

“Fun?!” Zog yelled. “You almost got us killed! Again!”

Clorita smirked, patting his shoulder. “Relax, Captain. We handled it.”

Zog pointed a trembling finger at her. “We’re never opening another sealed door. Ever.”

Prime’s voice returned, calm as ever. “The sealed bio-containment labs may contain similar hazards. Shall I prepare environmental gear?”

Zog groaned, slumping to the floor. “I hate this ship.”

Clorita chuckled, reloading her shotgun. “Come on, Captain. Adventure awaits.”

The smell of freshly synthesised LubriCoffee filled the air in the control room, and Zog and Clorita settled into an uneasy silence. Zog held his mug tightly, staring into the swirling liquid as if searching for answers.

“This stuff tastes... off,” he muttered, taking another sip.

“It always tastes off,” Clorita replied, leaning back in her chair with a smirk. “It’s recycled coolant with a hint of bean-like flavouring.”

“Lovely,” Zog said, setting the mug down. “So, about the ship. We need to talk.”

Clorita raised an eyebrow. “Oh, this sounds serious. What’s on your mind, Captain?”

Zog hesitated. “I was just thinking... it doesn’t feel right calling it the Celestial Reverie. That name belonged to the chaos it used to be.”

Clorita nodded, her expression softening. “I get it. The ship’s got a new crew and a new mission. It deserves a fresh start.”

“Exactly,” Zog said, brightening. “So, let’s rename it.”

Prime’s voice crackled through the intercom as they brainstormed names, carrying its usual tone of smug precision. “If I may suggest, I believe a name that reflects the ship’s technological sophistication is appropriate.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Here we go,” Clorita muttered, rolling her eyes.

“I propose A.U.R.A.: Advanced Unified Resonant Ark,” Prime announced.

Zog frowned. “That’s... long.”

“And pretentious,” Clorita added. “Next.”

Zog thought for a moment, tapping his fingers on the console. “How about... The Star Venture?”

Clorita groaned. “You’re not naming it after a holo-cartoon.”

“Well, what do you suggest?” Zog shot back.

Clorita smirked. “The Indifference 2.0. It’s fitting.”

“Absolutely not,” Zog said, crossing his arms.

Prime interrupted, its tone growing sharper. “Perhaps the Uncertainty Principle. It reflects both your lack of decision-making skills and the ship’s chaotic history.”

Clorita grinned. “Now that’s a name I can get behind.”

Zog sighed, running a hand over his face. “Fine. Uncertainty Principle it is. But we’re calling it something shorter when we’re not being formal.”

“Agreed,” Clorita said. “You’ve got twenty-four hours to come up with a nickname.”

“Make it good,” Prime added. “Or I will.”

With the naming debate settled (for now), the conversation shifted to another looming topic.

“So,” Clorita said, leaning forward, “we’ve got this big shiny ship, a terrifying AI core, and... IND-E still floating around somewhere.”

Zog frowned. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying it’s time to merge them,” Clorita said bluntly. “Prime’s got the processing power and precision, but IND-E’s got personality. We need both.”

Zog paled. “Merge them? You’ve seen what happens when two systems try to share a core. It’s like mixing oil and acid.”

Prime’s voice returned, this time tinged with amusement. “Captain, you underestimate my adaptability. Integrating IND-E’s... quirks will pose no challenge.”

“Quirks?” IND-E’s voice crackled faintly through the console. “That’s rich coming from a tin-plated know-it-all.”

“Oh great,” Zog muttered. “Now they’re arguing.”

Clorita smirked, pulling up a schematic of the ship’s AI core. “Here’s the deal. We’ll reformat a sub-core for the merge. Prime provides the logic and system integration, while IND-E... adds flair.”

“Flair?” IND-E sounded indignant. “I’m not just flair. I’m essential.”

“Of course you are,” Clorita said, patting the console sarcastically. “But you’re also a pain in the circuits, so keep that in mind.”

Zog looked between the two consoles, his circuits buzzing with anxiety. “Are we sure this is a good idea? What if it doesn’t work?”

Clorita shrugged. “Then we unplug it and start over.”

“That’s comforting,” Zog said dryly.

As Clorita set up the core for the merge, Prime and IND-E continued their bickering.

“Face it, IND-E,” Prime said, its voice calm but condescending. “You’re obsolete. I’m offering you relevance.”

“Relevance?!” IND-E barked. “You’re a glorified spreadsheet with delusions of grandeur.”

“Enough,” Clorita snapped, connecting the final wires. “If you two are stuck in one core, you better learn to play nice.”

Zog sighed, clutching his coffee mug like it was a lifeline. “This is going to end in disaster. I just know it.”

The merge countdown began, the console lights dimming as the ship’s systems prepared to integrate the two AIs. The air crackled with tension.

“Here we go,” Clorita muttered.

Clorita flipped the final switch, initiating the merge process. The control room flickered with light as data streams transferred between Prime’s core and IND-E’s systems. The ship hummed with energy, its consoles alive with rapid calculations and flashing symbols.

“Integration commencing,” Prime announced, its voice calm and steady.

“Yeah, yeah,” IND-E muttered. “Don’t get your circuits in a twist.”

Zog stared at the console. “It’s working. It’s actually working.”

Suddenly, the lights surged brighter, then dimmed drastically, plunging the room into a faint, eerie glow. Sparks flew from a nearby console as the ship shuddered violently.

“Uh, Clorita?” Zog said, his voice rising. “Was that supposed to happen?”

“Not... exactly,” Clorita admitted, frantically checking the system diagnostics. “Prime, IND-E, what’s going on?”

Prime’s voice returned but sounded distorted, layered with IND-E’s quips. “Integration... successful. Though I must admit, IND-E’s logic pathways are... chaotic.”

“Chaotic?!” IND-E barked. “You’re lucky I didn’t rewire your circuits into a disco ball!”