The Orville Apr 2026

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.

Back on the bridge, the crew was picking themselves up off the floor. The Orville

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.” Captain Ed Mercer stared at the viewscreen on

Ed couldn’t argue with that. He leaned back in his chair. “Helm, set a course for the nearest bar. I need a drink that doesn’t taste like a war crime.” Back on the bridge, the crew was picking

Ed grabbed Dr. Fen by the shoulders. “How do we get it to spit us out?”

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.

“It’s… eating,” said Chief of Security Alara Kitan, her brow furrowed. “It’s not attacking. It’s just really, really hungry.”