The Communicator, Chapter 16
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There was silence in the room. Finally, Brevix spoke.
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Chirrup! Chirrup!
Brevix stood before a large plotting view of the planet they were surveying. The hours since the last communication with the Drragh Overlord had been vexing. Would the Drragh really eat any of his crew? The sound of the door alert roused him from his concentration. He thought about reaching for some part of his clothing then shrugged. He was Keiran. And as captain of the ship, the crew were supposed to be accepting of the Keiran values. The Drragh's attitudes be damned, he thought.
Chirrup! Chirrup!
"Enter!" he rose his voice slightly, knowing the ships computer system would relay his command to whoever stood outside. The door swished open, admitting Chief Investigator Nautewlus and another clone. A female, this time.
"Captain, this is 13CI31549. She's taken the name Beatrice."
Brevix was just a little surprised to find the human clone standing before him nearly as naked as himself. The classes on Syndicate cultures seemed to be paying off.
"Beatrice, Nautewlus. What can I do for you?"
"Captain, I've been researching the missing Drragh crew's senior officers. I don't quite know how we missed it this long, but I've stumbled across the First Officer, sir."
The unexpected news made Brevix's ears perk. "You mean Lagarfljótsormur?" Brevix asked, as he grabbed for the edge of his desk to steady himself.
"Yes sir, and it was in plain sight. The people you refer to as 'earthers' even had its name right, Lagarfljótsormur. I had done several searches using approximations of its name. Then, this morning, I typed in its real name, and got a hit."
"Captain," Nautewlus spoke up, "The reference in question is a folk story told on an island in the northern ocean... here." Her holograph of the planet appeared and a large island glowed bright blue. "The earthers call this Iceland, the ocean is called the Atlantic Ocean." At the wrinkled brow on Brevix's face, she added "in case you were interested, sir."
Brevix nodded at Nautewlus then turned to Beatrice. "Go on."
"Skipper, the tale tells of a gathering of dragons, and possibly a battle... well, here, let me read it to you. It's not too long.
Aye, and it came to pass in days of yore, soon after our ancestors settled the lovely Isle, that they beheld in the sky a great omen, a great sign.
It was a warm and sunny day, not a cloud in the sky, when suddenly the skies darkened. There, swirling in the air, blotting out the sun, was seen such a terrifying sight, as none had seen before or seen since.
A hundred dragons of all colors and shapes and sizes gathered. And a great battle ensued. The battle raged for four and twenty days and four and twenty nights. Each day, more dragons were defeated and plunged into the eastern sea, until on the last day of the battle, one dragon survived.
And this dragon we knew was Lagarfljótsormur, protector of our Isle. Lagarfljótsormur
shrieked out his victory shout, then settled atop Hvannadalshnúkur, the tallest of mountains. For several days, Lagarfljótsormur kept vigil.
Then, on the fourth day after the defeat of the other dragons, Lagarfljótsormur took once more to the sky and flew east. Emitting one last shriek, Lagarfljótsormur plunged into the sea, and never again was he seen."
There was silence in the room. Finally, Brevix spoke.
"A battle? Between a hundred dragon? There isn't a hundred Drragh here."
"Sir, the story is in a genre called folklore. There might have only been two. Exaggeration is not unheard of in these things."
Chief Investigator Nautewlus was busy poking at her tablet. "Skipper, I've been looking at our Drragh files. I don't believe it was a battle being reported here, rather I suspect it is a Drragh ritual known as an 'Eshal-Kuvargh'. It's a form of celebration. And it can be for any number of reasons, but it normally takes the form of a sky-dance, and can last up to thirty Drragh days."
"Okay, then. I'm glad I do not have to report to Chklarna that his crew killed each other! Get us to this Iceland. See if we can find anything new. Beatrice? Was there something you wanted to add? Oh for the love of... My eyes are up HERE!"
"No sir! Nothing. It's just... the reports are true sir. Your bottom parts..."
At that Nautewlus grabbed the clone by her arm and pulled her from the room. Brevix clapped his hand over his face.