I'll start it off, of course.
![Smile :)](./images/smilies/icon_smile.gif)
Sandhurst Military Academy, Tannington Strand
New Anglia, Star Kingdom of New Anglia
17 August 3398
The white sands of the Tannington Strand gave way easily under the feet of the troop of Army cadets that marched across it, wearing shorts and gray workout shirts increasingly soaked with sweat. The 22 and 23 year old men and women were in their final year at the Academy; with passage of their courses, including their continued physical training, they would become officers in the Anglian Army, destined for posts across the Empire or in the barracks of "influence stations" in Dilgrudar Sector, maintaining watch over that volatile, beaten species.
Among the senior class cadets was Cadet James William Windsor-Stuart, a Prince of the Royal Family and the imminent Duke of York. He was the middle son, his brother Prince Henry being Edward XV's eldest son and heir while Prince Matthew was the youngest son, still a teenager and soon enough to join the naval academy at New Portsmouth (Having chosen the Royal Navy and not the Army, as James had done). At this point in his life James was pretty sure of how things would go; he would graduate Sandhurst, serve in the Army (Asking specifically for a Dilgrudar assignment or, if barring that, a colonial sector assignment), and while serving his time he would endeavor to see his beloved wife Larissa, the daughter of the Duke of Smyrna and the most beautiful woman alive to his eyes, as often as possible.
They were marching along when a flash appeared on the horizon, from the direction of night instead of the rising sun. It was as if a new star was born, briefly, before fading out. And any dweller of the ending 34th Century knew that it meant Something Had Happened. James felt his stomach twist into a knot; his father, mother, and older brother were coming back home after all, due back today from a visit to Thanagar and Ionia. No, whatever it was it wasn't them. Couldn't be, their ship wasn't due to arrive until later after all he tried to think to himself as the instructor forced the cadets back into action, bellowing various remarks about whether they really thought the stars were that pretty, etc.
Indeed, something had happened.
The cadets learned of it after their first class period, during study time. The ABS (Anglia Broadcasting Service) News channel was following the story as it broke; a vessel on approach in hyperspace had suffered a catastrophic submersion field failure. Safety measures to ensure a successful active transition had also failed; the result was a massive energy release in both realspace and hyperspace, an "energy wave" that damaged or even destroyed ships for hundreds of thousands of kilometers around the Hyperspace Junction. The wave in hyperspace had been less expansive but still highly destructive. Though the explosion had effected hyperspace sensors across three sectors, the comparison of records and detected emergency transitions had been enough to tell authorities that a dozen vessels had been outright destroyed by the terrible explosion.
Double-checking schedules during study period, James was relieved to confirm that the [i}Royal Meteor[/i], the official interstellar yacht used by his father, was not scheduled to arrive in-system until later in the day. Content, he finished his studies and reported to his next class punctually. As his instructor was giving the day's material out, a knock on the door was followed by the arrival of Major Withers, the aide of General Bowers, the Commandant. James had a sudden, terrible feeling as Withers motioned for him after whispering to the instructor. "Cadet Windsor," the instructor intoned, "please follow Major Withers".
A few minutes of moving through the corridors of the Academy passed. The fine wood paneling and flooring was only a distraction until they arrived in the office of General Anthony Bowers. James snapped a salute and had it answered. Withers exited the room and left the Commandant with his most important student. Bowers was clearly effected by something; his expression was pale despite the olive tone to his skin (courtesy of a New Bangladeshi maternal grandfather). "Please, Cadet... Your Highness... sit down."
James did so. It was protocol that he only be referred to has a Cadet, just like other students, and for Bowers to not do so bode ill. Very ill. "Sir?"
Bowers swallowed. "I've... been asked to take the responsibility of informing you, Your Highness, that today's tragedy in hyperspace has resulted in the destruction of the Royal Meteor with all hands and passengers."
The news was a thunderbolt to the gut. James felt like he was going to be sick. Had he snacked during the study time it would have come right back up on him. He fought to hold control, as he had been raised to do, though he knew he was visibly paling. "They are certain?", he asked, trying to keep strength in his voice.
"I am sorry, Your Highness.... Your Majesty," Bowers answered. "They have confirmed it."
Which, of course, meant that everything for James had changed this day. At morning reveille he had been Prince James, the Duke of York, second second of King Edward XV. Now? Now he was to be King. The living embodiment of the Anglian nation, the ruler of three whole species beyond those Humans of the Anglian Worlds, themselves of varying nations of Humanity. Even with the constitutional monarchy of the Anglian nation, with much of the day to day decisions made by the Government... tremendous power, albeit mostly ceremonial, would be his.
"They want you back in Westminster," Bowers continued. "I've been ordered to place you on a military flight immediately."
Westminster Palace, City of Westminster
For hours after arrival James had been subjected to several meetings by formal Palace staff, namely arranging which rooms he would stay in (the decision was made that for a year of mourning he and his wife would not use his parents' suite) and other issues of the transition of dwelling. Sir Alexander Grant and most of the Cabinet (those who were on-world) called, physically or by holophone, to give their condolences. Sir Alexander was to come by later to brief him on upcoming Government business. And, of course, he was being asked to pick his regnal name. It was not a hard choice; as a loyal son to his father James was determined to honor him by adapting his name, making him Edward XVI. The choice would be announced to the press that night, though James wanted to get his wife's input before it was made official.
She arrived later in the day, having been on a field excursion with her biology class in the Royal Academy of the Sciences when the incident happened. James - King Edward - stood as she entered, still wearing the rather plain sleeveless gray blouse and knee-length pocketed shorts she'd been in. She has not even had time to change he thought to himself as he walked up to her, the couple embracing one another. "James, my darling James," Larissa wept. "I still cannot believe it."
Here, in the privacy of one of the side rooms, James allowed himself to weep as well, hot tears flowing down his cheeks. "I do not know... oh God, Lissa, Father, Mother, Henry..." He let out a sob into her ear, as she did in his. "How could I have lost them all in one day?"
"James..." Larissa brought her head back to face him directly. Her blue eyes had tears pouring from them, her eyes red from crying. "My parents... they were coming to see me. And they were with yours."
For the second time that day James endured a twist in his gut. He loved Larissa with all his heart; to know she suffered as he did, that they had both been orphaned in the same terrible day, made him take her into his arms all the more strongly and try to comfort her. "My beloved, I am so sorry. So so sorry."
and so they wept together.
Penton Residence, Vancouver
New Columbia, Star Kingdom of New Anglia
12 May 3999
The townhouse at 2410 Adams Street, one of the major avenues of Vancouver, was owned by the local region's Parliamentary representative. Mr. Stephen Penton, a retired Captain of the Royal Navy, had dwelt there since purchasing the property with some of his pension checks so he and his family had a home in his home constituency. It had been barely inhabited for about ten years out of twenty-five owning it, those years being when Stephen was First Lord of the Admiralty and then Defence Minister under prior Liberal Governments, before Sir Alexander Grant's Conservatives had won in the General Election of 3990. Since then the family had dwelt here whenever Parliament was not in session, with summer retreats to the Vallejo estate of his father-in-law Rafael whenever it was summertime on New Columbia (Which occurred in August-November of the year, with school starting in December and the childrens' school terms being primarily held in Westminster).
Rafael, a New Columbian peer and member of the planetary House of Lords (and a former Westminster Cabinet member himself, from many years ago), was present in the home, as was Stephen's wider family. It was a careful gathering with Rachel Penton, his beloved wife, acting to try and keep everyone comfortable, and both carefully trying to keep the peace. Rachel's family held a few minor Baronetcies and were generally of the elite of New Columbia's Rosarian-Mexican populations while Stephen's paternal grandparents and a few uncles and aunts were not only Liberals or Labour of the majority Nova Terran Cascadian-originated immigrants of the planet, but were openly of republican sentiment (Which had already rallied the most hardcore Tories into opposition to Stephen as a leader in the Government, the accusation of him being a republican as well being popular). The reason for this precarious gathering was that the biggest 36 hour period of Stephen's professional live was coming to a close.
They were entering Hour 34 of the General Election, called just before New Year's as a result of the scandal over the Hyperspace explosion of August 17th, a black day that had seen the deaths of several hundred Anglians and foreign citizens, including King Edward XV, the Queen-Consort Siobhan, their son Henry the Prince of Wales, and the parents of Larissa, the former Duchess of York and now the Queen-Consort and Duchess of Smyrna. In the investigation following the incident, it was discovered that safety regulations had been left lax as a result of the policies pursued by Conservative junior ministers and the subcontractors assisting in the process. The resulting outlash of public rancor at Sir Alexander Grant's Government had prompted the man, a political foe of Stephen's, to offer his resignation to King Edward XVI. Stephen had enough respect for the Conservative leader, having known him throughout his political career, but had pushed very hard before and after the resignation for civil and criminal proceedings for the accident and now for the Conservatives to lose control of the Government. After 9 years of Conservative rule, he had high hopes it would be accomplished.
As it stood, things looked well. The Conservatives were losing seats across the board. Labour was making gains on some worlds and had won a few more constituencies, but it didn't look like they'd have enough to force a Coalition on his Liberals. The main issue was going to be the Progressive Democratic Party, which was making interesting gains among the Dorei kingdoms and in the Ionian Worlds. As it stood his Liberals would win 1,080 seats out of the 2,000 available, a majority, with the Conservatives taking about 700, Labour 150, and the other parties the rest (usually the "fringe" constituencies). But if the Progressive Democrats, who usually suckled votes away from the Liberals in various worlds, continued to make their gains, the Liberals might fall short of the 1,000 seat mark, resulting in a hung Parliament and him requiring to negotiate a Coalition government. The nightmare scenario was the Liberals losing many of the races still considered in doubt, resulting in only 925 seats, with Labour, the Progressive Democrats, and a couple other minor parties splitting up the resulting gap (and the Conservatives likely getting some) in such fashion that he would have to negotiate with multiple parties to arrange an unwieldly multi-party Coalition government or risk having to attempt a minority government - failing that, having to ask the King to call another election due to the hung Parliament.
As attendees went, the most oblivious (or uncaring) were the children. Various sons and daughters of siblings, cousins, etc. were here, as were Stephen's own children. Little Adrian, 2 going on 3, was already in bed, petered out after a day of playing, and Rafael - his 15 year old eldest - was dutifully reading books as he began work for prepatory school and a New Portsmouth application. Thomas was chatting with Stephen's parents and grandparents - never an easy thing as of all his children the 11 year old was the most enthusiastic about the "family legacy" that Sam Penton had spent Stephen's childhood going on about; how their family had provided two Presidents to Cascadia and the Pacific Union in the 21st Century of Nova Terra, and Stephen had enough "closet republican" remarks to worry about without having his son become an open one - while 9 year old Sophie, dear sweet Sophie, was following her mother around helping her talk to people and generally impressing family on both sides with her precocious intelligence (And capability of conversing in multiple languages at once). That left 8 year old Gabriela, the younger daughter and fourth out of five in the family, to be lost in the crowd. Stephen suspected she would wind up with her eldest brother upstairs, quizzing Rafael about his schoolwork and insisting she would be in the Navy too. Between the attention Adrian demanded as a toddler, Stephen's work load as leader of the Liberal Opposition, and Sophie's ability to monopolize her mother's attention, poor Gabriela ended up lost at times, though Stephen and Rachel both tried to find time for her (And some of their marital arguments, and many nights on the couch for Stephen, had been as a result of accusations and recriminations about failure to care for her as much). And with the way the election was looking, it was only going to get worse.
Midway through the Thirty-Fifth Hour, the number of unconfirmed boroughs dropped below 100. As the number left approached 70 there was a cheer from the crowd (Even from Rachel's Tory relatives) as the ABS's Election Watch coverage confirmed that the number of Liberal seats had reached 1,001. As the watch became a real party, the final results trickled in, until the thirty-seventh hour dawned and the final tally was found. 1,072 Liberal seats, 698 Conservative, 152 Labour, 60 Democratic Progress, and 18 divided among various fringe parties like the Dorei Defence League, the Thanagarian Veterans' League, and with five overall going to the various Socialist-Communist parties that ran. Stephen did notice a bit of a scowl on his Grandpa Sam's face; the old 173 year old was a card-carrying member of the Republican Party, which occasionally managed a constituency either here on New Columbia or on Hansom's Planet, but this year it had not won a single seat - too many voters were unwilling to see their constituency potentially fall to the Conservatives or a fringe party to vote against the Liberals (as most Republicans tended to be Liberal - even Sam himself admitted that he voted for Stephen as a Liberal, though he often insisted it was only because he couldn't vote against his grandson, no matter how disappointed he was at his "acceptance" of the "monarchy").
Stephen did, indeed, know his family history. He had learned it as a child from Sam and Sam's brother Kyle, both immigrants from Cascadia on Nova Terra, one of the Twin Cradles of Humanity. His ancestor Stephen, for whom he was named, had been President of the Cascadian Republics from 2008 to 2018, when he had been elected President of the new Pacific Union, the political entity he was considered the "Founding Father" of (though historical accounts made it a different story, insisting that Alaska's Dr. Rice and Cascadian SecState and future Union President Parnell had been the main architects and that ancient Stephen a reluctant supporter). Over forty years after his death, just days after the Straylight launched, his great grand-son Andrew Garrett had been elected President of Cascadia, to serve 12 years as Cascadian President and 12 as PacUnion President, though his PacUnion service was split into two separate terms in the fashion of 19th Century US President Grover Cleveland. Over the years since a number of Garretts had popped up as Congressmen of Cascadian and the PacUnion, and eventually as planetary legislators. The family history could get hard to track given the centuries and the massive branching, so there was no telling what distant relatives might have already accomplished compared to him.
But ultimately, Stephen believed that the form of government was not important; what it stood for was. The United Star Kingdom of New Anglia was a just state to his view, one worth defending, one worth serving. His paternal grandparents considered it a throwback, a lingering institution that had its time pass centuries ago but which Humanity simply couldn't shake off. He wasn't so sure, It was tradition, a tradition for the nation he had chosen to serve and which his world was part of, even if their ancestries were different. It was one he would honor.
Soon it was time to sleep. He would be catching a fast ship to New Anglia in 10 hours so that he might present himself to King Edward XVI, his young sovereign, and fulfill the tradition of all leaders of victorious parties in Elections by forming a Government for the Kingdom. His ancestor had overseen the destinies of 56 million people: Stephen would be responsible for 330 billion souls.