But not everyone was impressed. The towering bouncers from the entrance pushed through the crowd, their reflective shades gleaming ominously.

“No faunanoids allowed,” one growled, reaching for Blip.

The crowd immediately turned, their cheers morphing into boos and shouts of protest.

“Leave him alone!” someone yelled.

“He’s the best thing that’s happened to this club!” another added.

One alien, sporting a glowing mohawk, stepped forward. “If you kick him out, we’re all leaving.”

The bouncers hesitated, glancing at each other. The crowd’s energy grew restless, their shouts louder and more threatening.

“Uh-oh,” Zog muttered, standing from his seat. “This is getting messy.”

“Relax,” Clorita said, sipping her drink. “Blip’s got this.”

Before the situation could escalate further, a hush fell over the crowd. A figure descended from a private balcony above the dance floor. It was the club owner—a sleek, humanoid alien with shimmering, translucent skin and a jacket made entirely of pulsating neon.

The owner strode into the circle, their eyes fixed on Blip. He raised a hand, silencing the murmurs. “Who is this… incredible being?”

Blip wagged his tail nervously. “Uh… I’m Blip. I like snacks and shiny things. And dancing.”

The owner smiled, their teeth glowing faintly. “Blip, you’ve captivated my entire club. I’ve never seen moves like that in all my years running this place.”

The crowd cheered in agreement, their energy surging once more. The owner raised their hands to quiet them. “I have an offer, Blip. Stay here. Become the official mascot of Club Nova. Fame, fortune, and all the snacks you could ever want.”

Blip’s tail froze mid-wag, his glowing eyes widening. “You… you mean I’d be famous?”

“Famous,” the owner said, their voice dripping with allure. “The face of nightlife across the galaxy.”

The cheers from the crowd filled Blip’s circuits with joy, but as he turned toward the bar, he caught sight of Zog and Clorita watching from the edge. Zog was shaking his head slightly, his expression unreadable. Clorita leaned against the counter, her usual smirk in place, but her eyes held something softer—maybe even sad.

Blip hesitated, his tail twitching nervously. “But… what about my crew?”

The owner tilted their head. “A crew is just a means to get here, right? Look at them. Do they cheer for you? Do they appreciate your talent? Stay here, Blip. Be who you were meant to be.”

Blip glanced back at Zog and Clorita again. Zog gave him a small nod as if to say, It’s your choice. Clorita just raised her drink in a mock toast.

“Fame, fortune, and snacks…” Blip muttered, his circuits buzzing with the weight of the decision. “Or… back to being yelled at for chewing wires.”

The crowd chanted his name. “Blip! Blip! Blip!”

Blip stood in the centre of the dance floor, the crowd chanting his name. The club owner extended their glowing hand, their offer hanging in the air like the bass drop of a lifetime.

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“Fame, fortune, and snacks,” Blip murmured, his tail wagging faintly. He glanced back at Zog and Clorita one last time. “Captain, Clorita… this is my dream.”

Zog sighed, running a hand down his face. “Blip, are you sure about this?”

“I mean, it’s shiny and awesome,” Blip said, bouncing on his paws. “I’ll be a legend!”

Clorita smirked, crossing her arms. “Good for you, Blip. Go live the high life.”

Zog hesitated but eventually gave a small nod. “Alright. Just… try not to forget about us when you’re rolling in credits and laser bones.”

Blip barked excitedly. “I won’t forget! Promise!” He turned to the owner and wagged his tail furiously. “Let’s do this!”

The owner clapped their hands, and the crowd erupted in cheers. Blip bounded into the spotlight, already soaking in the glory, as Zog and Clorita made their way out of the club.

The neon lights of the promenade glittered around Zog and Clorita as they walked in silence, the thrum of the club still audible in the distance..

“Well,” Zog said finally, “that’s that. Blip’s officially gone.”

Clorita shrugged, glancing at the signs above the shops. “He’ll be fine. Probably happier, honestly.”

“Still feels weird,” Zog muttered. “The ship’s going to be quiet without him.”

Clorita smirked. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Come on, Captain. Let’s find a replacement.”

They stopped before a glowing storefront labelled “Galactic Zoo Emporium: Faunanoids & Companions for Every Need!” The holographic sign featured an array of exotic creatures, from glittering reptiloids to fluffy, winged puffballs.

Inside, the shop was a maze of cages, tanks, and enclosures, each one filled with a different alien species. A sleek, robotic attendant approached, its voice smooth and programmed to please.

“Welcome to the Galactic Zoo Emporium,” it said, bowing slightly. “Are you looking for something specific, or just browsing?”

“Something… quieter than a dogganoid,” Zog said, glancing around nervously.

“Perhaps a Felixanoid,” Clorita suggested, pointing to a hologram displaying a sleek feline-like companion with glowing eyes. “They’re low-maintenance. Mostly.”

“Excellent choice,” the attendant said, gesturing toward a row of Felixanoid enclosures. “Intelligent, independent, and excellent at keeping pests off your ship.”

They approached the Felixanoid section, where several models lounged lazily in their enclosures. One stretched gracefully, its metallic fur shimmering like liquid silver. Another flicked its glowing tail, its sharp eyes scanning the room with disinterest.

Zog frowned. “They’re… kinda smug-looking.”

“They’re cats,” Clorita said flatly. “What did you expect?”

“Do you have anything… less smug?” Zog asked the attendant.

The robot nodded, leading them to a smaller enclosure nearby. “We also have Spikanoids—spiky but affectionate—and Lumiloids, who glow softly and make soothing sounds.”

Clorita peered into the Spikanoid tank, where a small, porcupine-like creature trundled toward the glass. “This one looks like it could double as a weapon.”

Zog leaned closer to the Lumiloids, watching as a glowing, jellyfish-like creature floated serenely. “This one looks… kinda peaceful. But also kinda like it might leak.”

They exchanged a glance, both hesitant.

“Well,” Zog said finally, “I guess it’s between the smug cat and the living nightlight.”

Clorita smirked. “I say we go with the Felixanoid. At least it won’t break into song every time it gets excited.”

After a brief debate, they settled on the silver-coated Felixanoid. The attendant programmed its identification chip and handed over a small manual that Clorita immediately tossed into her bag without reading.

The Felixanoid, now perched on Clorita’s shoulder, stared at Zog with a look that could only be described as disdain.

“Great,” Zog muttered. “It already hates me.”

“You’ll grow on it,” Clorita said, scratching the creature behind its ears. “Maybe.”

As they stepped out of the shop, Zog glanced back at the club, its neon lights pulsing faintly in the distance.

“Do you think Blip’s happy?” he asked.

Clorita shrugged. “He’s got shiny lights, loud music, and snacks. He’s probably in heaven.”

The Felixanoid yawned, curling its tail around Clorita’s neck as they returned to The Indifference. The ship was quieter, sure, but for now, that didn’t seem like such a bad thing.