Ed turned to Bortus. “Status?”
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.
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
Kelly clapped a hand on his shoulder. “It was a noble sacrifice, Bortus. We’ll have Gordon replicate you a case of something.”
Ed sighed. He looked at Kelly. “Remind me why I took this job?” Ed turned to Bortus
Bortus stared at the now-empty bottle in his hands. His voice was a low rumble of loss. “We are safe, Captain. But my vintage is gone.”
“It’s… eating,” said Chief of Security Alara Kitan, her brow furrowed. “It’s not attacking. It’s just really, really hungry.” Science scans indicated it was a rogue, non-corporeal
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.”