Starship Armstrong - Season 1

Part 56 - Dragon Slayers (V)

Gregor Dalaran watched the falling star with great excitement. It looked like it would touch down just beyond highview valley, in the jagged wastes claimed by no kingdom. This was his opportunity.

Gregor was the seventh son of King Adam III, so by the time he was born all the lands, honors and titles had been doled out to his elder brothers. If he was to rise to the full dignity demanded by his lineage he would have to earn it through dashing heroics. Gregor was perfectly content with this arrangement, having considered himself something of a hero from around the age of six.

Falling stars represented the fickle will of the ancestors. They brought great destruction where ever they fell, smiting those who sinned against them, but they left behind in their wake gifts for the worthy. Sometimes the gifts were wonders beyond imagining, but even the most puzzling and least useful of gifts were constructed of metals of near magical quality.

Gregor reasoned that, in the worst case scenario, he would have a sword forged for himself out of the star metal he was sure to find. He was certain the right bard could weave that into a heroic tale worthy of the most discerning of mead halls. To ensure that the right bard was present to do so he had hired seven.

In addition to his bards Gregor brought with him his three favorite cousins for moral support, their spouses and retainers, a guide, the guide's family, a personal cook with three assistants, and priests from all four of the major religions. Of course all of the peers had with them five bodyguards each, and the entire entourage was followed by the usual camp followers and other hangers-on. If he had wanted to, Gregor could have founded a village right where he was.

A distant thunder signaled to the group that the falling star had touched down. It was safe to get closer now.

Gregor flicked the reigns of his spider-wolf, and the furry arachnid-like riding beast began to gallop off towards the fallen star. The procession followed behind him. One of the bards began to sing a song about the glory and power of the ancestors.

* * *

Assessing damage...

Ion cannons non-functional.

Particle accelerator non-functional.

Gravity shields non-functional.

Ansible damaged, unreliable.

Right thrusters damaged, irreparable.

Unit grounded.

Situation critical.

Priority repairs required.

Scanning area for recognized materials...

No appropriate materials found.

Retrying...

No appropriate materials found.

Improvising...

* * *

"What would ye be supposin' it is m'lord?" asked Wooster, Gregor's personal gentleman's gentleman.

"The material components of my new sword," replied Gregor, rubbing his hands together.

The entire retinue stood around the crater formed by the fallen star's impact, peering over. The ugly, lumpen thing was still red hot and smoldering.

"I hope you're all taking notes," said Gregor, addressing the bards.

* * *

New repair procedure accepted.

Memetic cannon online.

Acquiring materials.

* * *

Gregor and his entire entourage were suddenly overwhelmed with indescribable, totally sublime awe. It was unlike any emotion they had ever experienced, stronger and truer. They understood at once in a way none could put to words that the fallen star was more than a mere gift from their ancestor spirits. They stood in the presence of a god.