Minara. the Grojan War - Cover

Minara. the Grojan War

Copyright© 2015 by C. Osborne Rapley

Chapter 7: Abandoned

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 7: Abandoned - 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  

Eight months later, Arron was ready to start the campaign against the Matherosians holding the southern province of Halcyon. He had spent the time bringing what was more or less an undisciplined rabble into a cohesive disciplined fighting unit. A trusted Captain, and troops from Halcyon, had replaced Arron's trained men at Harcross, so he had a core of trained, battle experienced men to help speed up the process. Jerros had remained his second in command. Morale was high and the men were eager to learn, especially as the stories of his exploits became more marvelous each time one of his original town guard told them.

The first pitched battle where, Arron's regiment faced a force outnumbering them two, to one resulted in a rout of Matherosians. His disciplined and well trained men performed better than even Arron had hoped. The next battle turned into a siege of the occupied southern city of Caster. Arron used his knowledge of medieval warfare to build siege engines using existing technology and to remain within the guidelines of the Intelligence Corps. The situation was helped when his troops broke through, and the oppressed population rose up, slaughtering the occupying Matherosian forces. For the next few weeks the Matherosian's refused to confront his forces head on and the fight had become no more than occasional skirmishes. Arron found out that they were delaying until the remaining Metherosian forces had been reinforced by additional troops sent over from Metheros. He did not have sufficient forces to stop the reinforcements so he was forced to face a heavily strengthened enemy.

It was the night before what Arron hoped was to be the final battle for the province. The estimates were that this time Arron's forces were outnumbered three to one. For this battle he had changed his formations, using the more open checkerboard three line formation developed by the Roman legions. The Metherosian forces were still more or less an undisciplined rabble, but even so Arron had requested, and was given, cavalry to protect the wings of his formations and subsequently pinch the enemy into his strong center.

The stars were bright in the sky as he sat alone outside of his tent, preparing himself for the coming battle. He was just considering retiring for the night when he heard a faint buzzing. It took him a moment to realize that it was his communicator. He had never received a message, even though he never failed to send his regular short burst acknowledgement that he was still alive and no Grojan activity had been detected.

His heart leapt into his mouth; they would never risk communication unless something serious had happened or he was being recalled. He ducked into his tent and removed the small box from his luggage. He pressed the sequence of markings on the side of the box and a holographic text appeared floating above it. Arron stifled a gasp and had to read the message three times before the significance sunk in.

All operatives, this is the commander planetary operations, authorization code XZ57183 alpha. The war is lost, the destruction of Earth imminent. Your recall is no longer an option. You are on your own, there will be no further communication from us and your transmitter will cease to function as soon as you close this message. God help us all.

Arron shut off the message, and a few moments later his communicator melted. He fell back against his camp bed, and with his guts churning, he ran trembling hands through his close cropped hair. "Fuck ... fuck ... fuck..." He grabbed the melted box and threw it at the back of his tent. Everything he had known was probably destroyed and his family most likely dead. He gritted his teeth. If the Grojans ever found this planet, he would find a way to kill them all. From now on this was to be his home, he would be stuck here forever, an alien among aliens. He swallowed, but the churning in his guts made him want to throw up. The timing of the message sucked. Tomorrow he had to fight a battle, heavily outnumbered in what was now his permanent home. Dear God, I have to win this as it is all I have left. He pulled himself up and lay down on his bed. If I can win this battle and others, perhaps I will eventually be in a position to command enough forces that will be able to kill any Grojan that find this planet. He forced himself to sleep. His night was haunted by the faces of his parents and sister.

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