The: Orville

Ed sighed. He looked at Kelly. “Remind me why I took this job?”

Isaac stepped forward, his optical sensor glowing. “Fascinating. The cloud’s digestive enzymes are non-random. They target specific mineral structures and organic compounds with the precision of a sommelier selecting a vintage. The moon it was consuming was rich in tricyclic hydrocarbons and volcanic salts. A ‘complex, earthy’ profile, one might say.”

They jury-rigged the Sagan ’s comm array into a disperser. Bortus, with a single, sorrowful tear rolling down his stony cheek, uncapped the bottle and poured its foul, viscous contents into the emitter. The smell alone made Alara gag. The Orville

Klytus sighed, wiping slime off his face. “My wife believes the cloud isn’t mindless. It’s a gourmand. It’s been selectively consuming celestial bodies for billions of years, developing a cosmic palate.”

Commander Kelly Grayson tapped her console. “Nothing, Ed. No response to any frequency. It’s just… munching.” Ed sighed

Captain Ed Mercer stared at the viewscreen on the bridge of the USS Orville . A shimmering, iridescent cloud the size of Jupiter was currently digesting a small moon. Science scans indicated it was a rogue, non-corporeal lifeform with the cognitive capacity of a mildly ambitious goldfish.

The Orville and the gutted Sagan were ejected from the nebula like a watermelon seed, tumbling end over end into clear space. The cloud, looking visibly offended, contracted into a tight, angry ball and zipped away at warp speed, probably to find a nice, bland asteroid to cleanse its palate. “Fascinating

“Activating,” Kelly said.

Dr. Fen pointed a trembling finger at Isaac. “ Thank you! It rejected the Sagan because our hull was coated in cheap, mass-produced duranium alloy. It’s like a wine connoisseur spitting out a mouthful of soda pop. But now you’ve brought the Orville —with its unique blend of military-grade armor, recycled shuttle fuel residue, and whatever that smell is from the mess hall—you’ve given it an amuse-bouche !”