"Organic food", the alarm sounded inside the massive spaceship. "Organic food", it repeated.

The gigantic body, worn in metal gear, moved to rise from the berth where it was lying the last millennia. 

It was tired of eating rocky planets. Organic food sounded like a good idea to its "ears" —or whatever were those hearing openings it had. 

He set the controls to move the ship towards the blue globe, feeling its "stomach" rumbling —or whatever was that inside of it. 

Maybe the incandescent globe, further back, could help giving spice to the food. It always preferred roasts and grills.