Minara - The Grojan War - Cover

Minara - The Grojan War

Copyright© 2015 by C. Osborne Rapley

Chapter 3: Halcyon

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 3: Halcyon - Minara is an ex solider turned bounty hunter earning a living catching human survivors from the Human, Grojan war. She stumbles across a large enemy fleet and is shot down. She crashes on a primitive planet where Minara quickly establishes herself as a bodyguard to a princess of a small kingdom. Unbeknown to her a powerful general from a rival kingdom is a genetically modified human. By chance and political events, they meet and sparks fly.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Science Fiction   Aliens   Slow   Military   Royalty  

Arron had been walking for just over a week. He had left his advanced weapons, explosives and uniform under a low-level force field in the back of the cave, close to where he had been dropped. He wore the clothes of a Halcyon, a citizen of the country he had been assigned to. His identity was that of a junior army captain in the Eastern Division of the Halcyon Army. His papers showed that he originated in the north of the country and had joined the Army and purchased his commission as a member of the Mine Protection Corps in the northern mountains. Being ambitious, he had requested a transfer to the Regular Army. His papers included a letter to the commander of the garrison in the third town of Halcyon, close to the border with the larger and more powerful country of Matheros.

The society was primitive, with little technology, and it reminded Arron of what it must have been like in late medieval times on earth. Communication was slow, transport by foot or by horse-like creatures, whilst either riding them or using a more muscular breed for pulling wagons or carts. They weren't horses of course, but they were close enough for Arron to call them that in his head. Their real name was marvark, and with shaggy hair and short horns, they looked like slim long legged highland cattle. The people had no concept of planets or space, and certainly not aliens, so the chances of his identity being found to be false was nonexistent. Grojan's landing on the planet would be instantly identifiable, with their ships and technology, so his task would be relatively easy, and he had been told it was why he was the only agent assigned to this particular planet. All he had to do was check in on a weekly basis using his compact quantum radio by just setting off an automated short transmission. He was not authorized to make personal contact unless the Grojan landed.

As he made his way further south he came to small farms and then villages, all the people he encountered were open and friendly, but all had dark brown to black hair and brown eyes. They all seemed to accept his gold blond hair and aquamarine eyes, but these things marked him out as different. He was certain Intelligence had made a mistake and had seriously considered requesting extraction, but as the days wore on and he became used to the occasional stare he decided against making the request. If he did request to be removed, he was certain he would be jeopardizing his position and career in the Intelligence Corps. Another thing they had told him was that his human name was similar to a Halcyon one, and his paperwork gave his name and rank as Arron, Captain Second Class, and he hoped they had not got that detail wrong as well.

The third day into his second week of traveling, the town walls of Harcross came into view. He reached the main gates by late afternoon. The gates were guarded by two bored guards wearing light linen armor and leaning on stout spears. They surveyed the crowds of people walking and riding through the gates, paying more attention to young females than anyone else.

Arron walked up to them. "Excuse me..."

They turned to look at him. "What the fuck do you want? Just move along."

"I would like to know where the town garrison headquarters can be found."

The eldest guard frowned; looking at Arron's travel-stained clothes, and then pointed his spear at the gates. "Up the main street, last building on the right before the town square. Now fuck off and stop pestering us."

Arron mumbled a "thanks soldier" and proceeded through the gates and up the main street. The town had a run down and neglected feel about it. There were plenty of people, but they all carried an air of despondency. Arron arrived at the guard headquarters and barracks, which was a decrepit and crumbling building. Well this looks good; he thought as he walked up the steps and pushed open the doors. The ground floor was deserted and an abandoned reception desk stood in front of what once had been a magnificent staircase. With no one around Arron shouted, "Hello, any one about?"

After a few moments a door creaked on the landing above and a gray haired head peaked out. "Who is doing all the shouting?"

Arron started up the steps. "Me sir, I'm looking for the guard commander."

"Well you found him, who are you?"

"Arron sir, Captain Second Class."

"Well, Arron Captain Second Class, what do you want?"

"I have been posted here sir, from the North."

The guard commander looked surprised. "Well you had better come into my office then."

Arron walked up the remainder of the stairs and followed the commander into his office. The office smelt of stale alcohol, vomit and urine, and Arron wrinkled his nose in disgust. The commander up close was old, his tunic stained with what Arron did not care to imagine. The small of stale urine seemed to be originating from the commander.

"Take a seat Captain." He indicated a chair piled with folders and lose papers. "Here, let me clear it for you. He lifted the folders and dropped them unceremoniously on the floor. Arron sat and looked round. The office was a total mess; papers and empty bottles vied for space on the desk and the floor was an overspill of the desk.

"Got any papers, Captain?" The commander held out his hands.

"Yes sir." Arron fumbled in his pocket, then handed the papers over. The commander squinted at them. "Good, excellent." He took a large swig from a half-empty bottle at his elbow. "Wait there a minute." The commander stood, swayed, then walked across unsteadily to the door and poked his head out. "Corporal Jerros!" He yelled.

Arron heard a voice from along the corridor. "Yes sir."

"Come here, Jerros."

"On my way, sir."

The Commander ducked back into his office, and moments later a smart soldier in leather armor appeared at the door and saluted.

"Jerros, this is the new guard commander, Captain Arron, he has just relieved me." He turned back to Arron, who could not believe what he was hearing. "Well, Captain, it's all yours, I've had enough! You can forward anything you might find of mine to my sister's farm west of the town." He grabbed his helmet and headed out the door, and with a parting, "Jerros will help you," he was gone.

Arron got to his feet. "Well I didn't expect that to happen!"

Jerros stepped into the office. "I'm sorry, sir, he has wanted to retire to his sister's farm for several years now, but no one wanted his job so he was stuck, until you turned up that is."

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