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RISE OF LEGENDS

PROLOGUE

Time unknown

His Most Royal Exploration Vessel "Curious Eye"

Space, around singularity Alpha-One-Zero-Four (planetoid, class 3 (stable natural environs), dubbed "Legeto")

~~~~

"REACTORS FAILING!"

"SHIELDS DOWN; TWENTY PERCENT MAXIMUM!"

"REAR WEAPONS OFFLINE!"

"ENGINES LOSING POWER!"


It was clear that, aboard the Curious Eye, things were falling apart. And how! The vessel itself was practically in a state of disrepair before the critical malfunction over Ziamor (damn nav-system couldn't even properly make a suggestion for a half-decent route to follow out of that death trap), so the crew was basically operating blind regardless. If His Most Royal Highness, Lord-of-All-that-is Ymashr, hadn't been such a dumbass and pressed this aging Voyager-class vessel into operating at less than optimal levels, the crew would've been reassigned to a warship on the frontlines, fighting the good fight, but no! He wanted to explore, to meet-and-bring-the-Enlightenment-to-other-cultures, to eventually conquer those who stood against Him. The fat, lazy, imbecilic bastard.

From outside the ship, it was clear that things were turning grim fast. The engines were straining with all their might just to keep the vessel moving at a sluggish pace, but the steel-blue Timonium reactor couplings, glowing an unstable bluish-white now, were struggling to provide the power necessary for such. It was a titanic effort just to keep the life support going as is, considering the ship's age. And the alarms going off...every klaxon and siren used up so much precious, needed power. Power that could've kept the ship running at a stable level. Damn the automatic warning system!

Then, there was a brilliant white-hot glow from the reactor couplings. They were about to go critical.

The Curious Eye was doomed the moment she left port at Tenochtit.

A massive, furious thumpf resounded through space, a spectacle of white-hot Timonium exploding in a bluish-red fireball, cooking off the forward batteries, causing a chain reaction of miniature explosions to break the Eye damn near cleanly in half.

Many, many Cuotl crew members aboard the Eye cursed the name of Lord-of-All-that-is Ymashr, the idiot who condemned many of them to using a cold, uncaring vacuum for a grave site.

Little did they know that what was left of their ship, which was now hurdling towards the planentoid at mind-boggling speeds, would spark a war, much later in the future.

For now, for those who survived almost being tossed into the wretched vacuum that was space, it was becoming evermore clear:

Survival was of the most paramount concern. Getting from space to the ground in more-or-less one piece was a bit more hazy.

PROLOGUE, CONT.

Midweek, Year 135 p(ost)-M(odernization), Vinci Standard Calender

Royal Palace, New Leonardo Square

Allegra, Vinci City-State Miana, Aio

~~~~

"Look, mio marito, see his chubby little hands?" Isabell cooed to her spouse, Lord Antonio. Her brown hair was matted after so many hours of sweating up a storm during the long, exhausting labor, and her blue eyes were softened and tender, the eyes of a joyous mother reflecting back the gleam in the newborn's eyes. She cradled her baby son, Giacamo, her her arms, the soft fabric of her maternity clothes rustling to accommodate this new invasion of space.

"Yes, sweetheart, he's handsome," Antonio nodded sagely, silently steeling himself inside for raising another son. Petruzzo was enough trouble, given that he was only three now. Now Antonio would be at his wit's end with a babe! While he loved his wife with all of his heart, he prayed to whatever deity there was to cut him a break and give him a daughter, if only for the change of pace. He silently walked out, deciding his wife needed some room with the newborn.

Then again, more sons meant more rival families offering the hands of their daughters in marriage, more offers of marriage meant more alliances forged, and that meant the unification of the City-States would come sooner than expected. So, all truths told, having sons wasn't necessarily a bad thing--

"Papa! Papa!" Oh, joy. Petruzzo was done with his tutoring. The boy, though Antonio loved him very dearly, was quick to find himself in trouble, but not quick enough to get himself out of it. Of course, he was three, which made his trouble-making somewhat excusable. His brownish eyes practically glowed with mischief, and his black hair bounced as he ran as fast as he could towards his father. He stopped when he was about a couple inches away from Antonio's left leg.

"Petruzzo, mio figlio, have you finished your classes already?"

"No, papa. I just came to see my new sister!"

Oh, how to break the news in such a way that wouldn't break the lad's heart...that was a challenge, and Antonio wasn't one to back down from one if he foresaw achievable victory. He bent down on one knee, softly grabbing hold of Petruzzo's shoulder.

"Petruzzo...mama gave birth to your new baby brother, Giacamo. Now before you start crying, remember, you'll still get to sit in papa's fantasia sedia d'oro one day, and you'll be papa to a whole bunch of people."

"Really, papa?"

"Yes. It's called being a Lord. You'll understand when you're older."

"Is that the same time when I learn where babies come from?"

"No, you'll learn where babies come from before you become Lord. Now, go visit mama. I bet if you're a good enough boy, she'll let you hold Giacamo..."

That was all that was needed to send young Petruzzo running away, out of his father's grasp, towards the labor ward. Hopefully Giacamo would be a bit more manageable...