The Communicator, Chapter 3

[elstrom99]

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screeeeeeEEEEEUUUUU! screeeeeeEEEEEUUUUU! screeeeeeEEEEEUUUUU!

 

Brevix flung his covers off and climbed to his feet, shaking free of Hourna's arm.  Resignedly, he pulled on his uniform tunic, fastening the clasp at its throat.  As he moved towards the door to the hallway, he heard claws scrabbling on the corridor floorplates.  Powrlen dashed past as he pulled the door open, squinting against the blue light that assailed his eyes.  He quickly followed his Communications Officer to the Media Center.

 

screeeeeeEEEEEUUUUU! screeeeeeEEEEEUUUUU! screeeeeeEEE…

 

As Brevix slid to a stop before the caster, Powrlen slapped the receiver switch with his paw.

 

"This thing better work this time, Powrlen, or I'm going to reduce your rank."

 

"It'll work."  With that, the tiny dot of red at the center of the caster screen grew to reveal the full snout and eye of a massive Drragh.

 

"Choor... Oh.  Vous êtes déjà là."

 

Brevix looked confusedly at the screen and turned to his communications officer. "What the stars is THAT?"

 

"I have no clue, Commander!  I swear!  I spent three hours over the past day talking, without trouble I might add, with Assistant Under-Overlord Scchhreectla.  It was working when we disconnected!"

 

"Que se passe-t-il dans les rayons putrides de l'étoile invisible de Qeevok?"  

 

"Powrlen?"

 

"One min..." The communication officer flatpawed the side of the panel again. "ute.  That should do it."

 

Brevix turned to the screen.  Overlord Chklarna, I think maybe we have it now..."

 

"Yes, I hear you.  Start fattening him up.  I want to watch as my crew devours him."  The Overlord's eyes squinted and he nearly imperceptibly shook his head.  "Commander, report."

 

"Sir, there is still no indications in local media of your crew anywhere.  We've undertaken the cloning of two new Investigators... investigators that we can actually send out into the local society for the purpose of, well..., I mean, investigating!"

 

"Uh huh.  So you've got nothing, is that what you are saying?"

 

"Um, yes sir."  Breevix mumbled.

 

"I can't hear you."

 

"Sir, yes sir!  I have nothing sir."

 

"I know, I heard you the first time.  I just like flustering you."

 

"It worked.  I mean, very well sir.  Is there anything else?"

 

"Yes.  Tell that worthless, incompetent fool of a communications officer I want that damn translator fixed. And another..." There was a loud burst of static "...chose. Souhaitez-vous s'il vous plaît mettre des pantalons!  Zut!"

 

The screen burst bright red, then faded to black.  Behind him, Brevix heard an outburst of giggles.  He turned around to face his Communications Officer, his First Officer and the Chief Investigator.  Crossing his arms he glared at them.

 

"Do any of you have any clue what he just said?"

 

"I'll bet he was referencing your... what did he call them?  Yes, your nether regions."  Brevix glared at Powrlen.

 

His Chief Investigator consulted her tab then looked up.  "He said 'Would you please put on some pants!'  It's in a local language sir... it's called French."

 

"I didn't think he knew what pants are."

 

"It would seem he does, Commander Cutey Bottom Parts"  Hourna turned and padded off down the corridor with Chief Investigator Nautewlus on his heels.

 

"YOU CAN BE REPLACED, HOURNA!"  He turned to Powrlen.  "Listen you... you... kitty.  You get that..."

 

"Kitty, sir?"

 

"Well, your people do look a great deal like what these Earthers call a cat.  Kitty appears to be a term of endearment for cats."

 

"A term of endearment, sir?  Awwww.  What'll Hourna say to you using endearing terms with me?"

 

"Powrlen."

 

"Sir, I'll have you know that the R'Kaccy are a very proud race.  And I am a very proud member of the R'Kaccy.  I am not a kitty."

 

Brevix opened his mouth, but Powrlen spoke again.

 

"But I do appreciate the endearment, sir.  Now, get those cute bottom parts back to the comfort of Hourna's arms!"

 

Emitting a low gutteral sound, Brevix padded out into the hall.  Powrlen looked after him until he heard the click of the Commander's door locking shut.  He turned to the communicator and sat, scratching his chin.

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Comments

[elstrom99]

Amazing what translate.google.com can do, isn't it?

I am hoping it's translating WELL enough. Then again... we're talking translation protocols of a computer. If Google is wrong, so might the communicator be... right? :)