When there are no easy answers…excerpt from Incursion: Unbound Book 1
Starlight from the viewport fought to illuminate a console desk, shape unrecognizable for the pile of starmaps and handpads that covered it like discarded blankets, thrown about haphazardly—or in frustration.
Ramius found Demarion, looming dark, by the viewport, gazing outward. Arms crossed over his chest, cloak gone, back straight—it was his accustomed posture when thinking and told Ramius nothing of those thoughts.
“How long did the ir’drakhon campaign for the northern continent last, Ramius?” Demarion asked, finally. “I can’t remember.”
“They defended their occupation headquarters in the west brutally. But it’s been a lot of years since I read that history, and the details escape me.”
“I don’t remember either, my lord.”
“That location never made sense—damned hard to defend and ugly as sin.”
Being from the westernmost of Demar’s northern continent himself, Ramius could not agree, but he limited himself to a mild, “Wasn’t their homeworld supposed to be rocky and, ah, barren? Perhaps they liked the terrain.” This was something of an old jest.
That brought a small smile to Demarion’s grim face. “Ah, yes. One mystery explained.”
Demarion’s smile faded again. “Of so many. What did they want on Demar in the first place? We had nothing to offer them that couldn’t be mined or made—better and cheaper—in their own territory. They didn’t need the labor—although they took advantage of it. We only had the one portal, which led only back here, and were certainly no threat—we didn’t even have electricity, much less space-worthy battleships. If they didn’t want us to have them, they could have just stayed away.”
The old questions, the ones he always asked, when he fell to brooding.
The ones for which there were no answers.
Ramius smiled, trying to lighten the shadows carved into Demarion’s face. “Maybe you can discover the answers now, my lord, and write a new history. You’d be famous.”
“Yes, my life’s ambition,” Demarion answered dryly.