Year 8216, six years before the catastrophe on Akillian
Planet Nerathis, the King's Council
"So it is true," said a voice from the head of the table, "that Raxen's reign has come to an end?"
"His and all the Veyrons'," answered the man at the other end of the table, General Dorian Vexar.
"The mob stormed his hideout," Vexar continued, "dragged him outside, and tore him apart."
"Things spiraled so far out of control that even Raxen's rivals fled in fear of the mob, but the mob didn't take kindly to that either, and they didn't fare any better than Raxen," another voice chimed in.
The man at the head of the table rose. It was King Veroxus Bleylock.
"Who holds power on Ascaron now?"
"The mob, Your Majesty. They roam the streets, killing anyone who opposes their views," Vexar replied.
"They really had enough of Raxen, huh?"
"So it seems, Your Majesty."
For a moment, silence fell over the room. When a third voice tried to speak, the king cut him off.
"This is a matter for another night. Tomorrow, another generation of soldiers graduates. We must choose the right people for the right tasks if we are to act."
With those words, the council members rose and headed for the doors. When they left, only one man remained at the table with the king.
"Vexar, it is late…"
"If you'll allow me, Your Majesty," the General interrupted, "the sooner we act, the better."
Vexar stood up, slowly approached the king, and sat in the closest chair to him.
"This is a golden opportunity. Ascaron is a jewel we cannot afford to lose. They have powerful flux, but they also have endless reserves of something even stronger."
"It would be dangerous to act immediately, Vexar."
"This is the best time to act, Your Majesty. Most of the people still believe that your wife, Queen Reina, should have ruled instead of Raxen. Send her. Send medicine and food for the hungry, and let Reina calm the situation. Once the people trust her, then we can take the dangerous paths."