Lord George Mountbatten

[Capt. Henry Morgan]

801 A.S.

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.

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