Capt. George Mountbatten was on leave following the battles against Rheinland forces that had invaded Bretonia. This war resulted in his receiving his command of the HMS Sovereign after it's previous commanding officer died in battle, and had just recieved the Distinguished Service Order for his actions in that war from Her Majesty, Queen Carina. For reasons he didn't understand, the Rhienland forces withdrew their forces from the other three houses and have been quiet since. Rumors of aliens and Chancellor Niemann's death were making their way around the rumor mill. George, for his part, considered a political assassination far more likely than pie-in-the-sky rumors about alien invaders who possessed people, but he kept his piece on the issue.
He was returning to his family's manor on New London to see his father, Lord Nelson Mountbatten, who's health had recently taken a turn for the worst. His doctors were saying that his father might not last the remainder of the week.
He entered his fathers chambers. It pained him to see his father in this condition, but he had to see his Father one last time.
"How is he, Doctor?" George asked his father's doctor.
"He is resting for the moment, but you may go in to see him."
"Thank you, Doctor. Please leave us for a moment."
"Of course." With that, the Doctor left him alone with his father.
"Father, I've come to see you"
Lord Mountbatten opened his eyes, and smiled. "I had hoped to see you one last time. There are things that I needed to tell you, but there was never time because of your service in the Armed Forces. I am proud of you, my boy. You've accomplished so much.
George smiled. "I know, father. I've never doubted it."
"Listen to me now, my boy, as I doubt I'll have a chance to say this again, and you need to know."
"What is it, father?"
His father looked at him with a sudden intensity that reminded him of his father in years past, when he was still strong. "The truth, boy, of our family's origins. This knowledge has been passed from generation to generation for centuries, but we've kept it secret until the time is right to make it known."
He looked at his father with confusion. "Our family's origins? What do you mean?"
"Ours is the rightful Royal Family of Bretonia. Carina's ancestors usurped the throne from us in the confusion following our settlement of Sirius, and stamped out all evidence of their grab for power. You are our rightful Monarch, not Carina."
George's confusion only deepened, as what his father said conflicted with everything George had ever known. "Father. That... that can't be true."
"It is. I know it's a lot to take in. Carina's family have had centuries to drip their poison in the ears of our people. As the saying goes, History is written by the victors. We have kept the truth alive for a day when we might reclaim what is ours. In my private safe, you will find a data crystal that contains our true genealogy, as well as that of Carina's family. Keep the truth alive, and use it when the time comes. You will know when that is."
"I will do that, father."
"I'm proud of you, son. You've become such a strong man. I love you, George." With that, Lord Mountbatten fell asleep again.
Barely audible, and with a tear in his eye. "I love you too, father."
Quietly, George removed the data crystal from his father's safe, and left the room and returned to the Sovereign.
Lord Nelson Mountbatten died in his sleep 3 days later.
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817 A.S - Present Day
Commodore Lord George Mountbatten sat in his office aboard the HMS Sovereign. Over fifteen years had passed since his father's death, and his learning of his true origins. He kept the truth secret, as his father bade him. He sensed that the time was not yet right to make his claim openly, yet the time was close. "Queen" Carina was slowly leading Bretonia into ruin. She was allowing more and more, the Admiralty to dictate policy of the realm. She continued to remain obstinate when nothing was to be gained by denying the Mollies and Gaians their demands. She was mismanaging the war against Kusari, and Bretonia was losing more space every day.
He had spent the better part of the last fifteen years gathering around him a cadre of loyalists who will help him when the time comes. Until that day comes, he continues to bide his time.
George didn't know what to believe anymore. His whole world had just been turned upside down for the second time in his life. What he had believed to be true turned out to be the real lie.
Recently, he finally managed to open his father's Journals, which had been heavily encrypted. He was left with the distinct feeling that he wasn't supposed to read their contents. Now he knew why. He listened.
Quote:Personal Log of Lord Nelson Mountbatten. November 17, 784 A.S.
Preperations for my claim to the throne are complete. I have managed to create a convincing genealogy, and our family IS close enough to the throne historically for it to pass inspection. In addition, due to my post at the Cambridge University, I have finally gained full access to the ancient archives from the Sleeper Ship Bretonia itself. That was the easy part. Making the original files disappear in a manner consistent with the data loss from the journey was not quite as easy, but I have suceeded.
Yet, now that it comes down to it, I find that I do not have the will to commit to my strategy. After some considerable thought, I have decided that George must be the one to do it. I must wait for the right time to pass him the information. He's stronger willed than myself, and is more likely succeed where I have failed.
George checked and rechecked the journal for authenticity, hoping against hope that what he heard was not true. No matter how many times he went over the files, the result was the same. His own father had lied to him and used him to sow havoc in Bretonia.
Contrary to some people's accusations, George's first interest really was Bretonia, and not just a power-grab on his part. At this point, there was really only one thing left for him to do. He had to tell his own people the truth, then he must apologize to Her Majesty. He would probably still face execution for his effrontery, but that didn't bother him much. Death would probably be preferable to the pain he's feeling now.
"George Mountbatten. We met, once, when I was young. Twenty third in line for the throne, even...assassinations would have been easier. Well...where to begin...
Right. The average lifespan on Leeds is 42 years of age, not 55. We've structures in the clouds that look like stars, which get lowered out of the smog on 'clear' nights...there are never any naturally clear nights. That leads to all sorts of distortions in the public information...population and population growth, average socioeconomic conditions...Nearly all of the information on the public cortex about the current state of Bretonia, and for the last hundred years, is falsified in some way or another.
We arrived last, of course, and were unlucky enough to land in the worst patch of Sirius...Three planets, systems with very low mineral density...We built up London as far as the swamp would let us, and then spread to Leeds, fed it from Cambridge...By the time we were earnestly competing with Liberty, they had twice the industrial capacity we had, so we overdeveloped Leeds. It was a clean system. We built it with coal, George, bloody coal, which was the only fuel that we had enough of. So we burnt it all over the planet, and in the system. Completely destroyed the algae and microorganism ecology that was struggling on Leeds, and filled the system with an immeasurable quantity of smog clouds...BMM created the most hellish world mankind has ever settled, and we awarded them for it. Even today, we've three worlds. Liberty has five, and another being settled. Rhienland has six and Kusari has four. Gaia does not count....Gaia is a treasure. Its a gem, and we aren't capable of understanding its potential worth. We're not setting foot on it. Cambridge...well, it still has problems with widespread exotic diseases..MOX, you know...We need Harris, which is why we're fighting this war. I can't give the populists anything because I need them to revolt...I need them to give me reasons to seize more powers in the media so I, and my successors, can continue to hush this, because if word gets out, the economy collapses. People have to have hope, and they have to think things are going well, or they don't buy. If the consumer base doesn't consume...everything fails, and we're teetering on the edge of disaster as it is. Bretonia has nothing saved, and very little infrastructure to fall back on. We maintain our status because the flow of currency in, and right out, is enough to keep this sick beast afloat, and a dynamo that keeps itself running. We cannot upset that balance, or it will collapse. George, I need help."
The miniature hologram flickered shut, and Richard Windsor closed his first briefcase, opening another. The old man slid a few documents, including a nondisclousure agreement and a pardon of some sort.
"Carina wants to trust you, for some gods unknown reason, and so you're in. Welcome to the Spider's Web."
The man stood up, years older than his age, and carried his cane out of the cell. Steel doors slammed shut behind him.
To say George's cell at Marborough Pile was cramped would be an understatement. The Royal Marines aboard the Sovereign had more space than he did now. Even so, George did not complain, since he knew that he brought this on himself. George lay on the bunk, thinking over the things that Her Majesty had just revealed to him. Things were much worse than he had believed, and his disagreements with Carina over Imperial policy now seemed laughable at best. He realized that he would support her fully from this day forward.
Though he wasn't sure he deserved it, George realized that he was being offered a chance for redemption. He read over the documents that Richard Windsor left behind. The first was a full pardon for everyone who served him when he tried to take the throne. This, however, was contingent on his signing the non-disclosure agreement, which prevents him from telling anyone what Carina revealed to him. This was not a problem for George, as he understood why Carina was keeping it a secret.
George picked up his pen and signed both documents, sealed them in the provided envelope, then slid the package onto his food slot. Now all he could do was wait.