Minara. The Grojan War

By C. Osborne Rapley

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 finds herself on a primitive planet where the most sophisticated weapon is the sword. Minara quickly establishes herself as a bodyguard to a princess of a small kingdom. Unbeknown to her a powerful military leader from a rival kingdom is a genetically modified human. By chance and political events, they meet and sparks fly.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C. Osborne Rapley
• Release date: Jul 28, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310378102

C. Osborne Rapley

C. Osborne Rapley lives in Hampshire England and enjoys writing when he gets the chance. Most of the time he is a general dogsbody, car mechanic, plumber and carpenter for three grown children. In his spare time he keeps bees, marine fish and has a weakness for fast boats.

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Minara

The Grojan War

C Osborne Rapley

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Smashwords Edition

Copyright © C. Osborne Rapley 2015

All rights reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the Author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Table of Contents

Chapter One. Minara

Chapter Two. Arron

Chapter Three. Halcyon

Chapter Four. Guard Commander

Chapter Five. The First Battle

Chapter Six. A Hero

Chapter Seven. Abandoned

Chapter Eight. Bounty Hunters

Chapter Nine. Marooned

Chapter Ten. The Treaty

Chapter Eleven. Meeting

Chapter Twelve. Match Maker

Chapter Thirteen. Departure

Chapter Fourteen. Kidnap

Chapter Fifteen. Allies and More

Chapter Sixteen. Revelation

Chapter Seventeen. Rescue Plan

Chapter Eighteen. Sacrifice

Chapter Nineteen. Death Sentence

Chapter Twenty. Further Revelations

Chapter Twenty-One. Grojan

Chapter Twenty-Two. Escape

Chapter Twenty-Three. A Plan

Chapter Twenty-Four. Hunted

Chapter Twenty-Five. A Murder

Chapter Twenty-Six. A Mistake

Chapter Twenty-Seven. The Pointless War

Afterword

Chapter One. Minara

Minara sank forward against the seat straps, fighting to hold back the tears stinging her eyes. Everything had been taken from her, now there was nothing left, and it was all her fault. She took a shuddering breath, and her logical mind clashed with her raging emotions. The testing official had pushed her too far. They were checking her poise and grace and he had nudged her, causing her to stumble. She had lost it when he denied his action and she had hit him. It wasn’t that he had denied pushing her, but the satisfied smirk on his face was more than she could bear.

It had crossed her mind the official had been bribed by her uncle, who made no secret of the fact he detested her, because as she grew older she looked more and more like her aunt, his late wife; the abuse had started once she had reached fifteen. She pushed the memory to the back of her mind with a shudder, because there was nothing she could do about it now anyway. Who would believe her word against that of a high-ranking officer of the government? Especially since she had been disgraced and banished from her home and family for failing the selection process. She was too violent to become what she had been brought up to be, as the daughter of a high-ranking family. She would never be mistress of her own household, would never be matched with a lifetime partner of the same rank as she was. Even the chance for a family of her own had been destroyed. One stupid slip and an abusive uncle had taken it from her. There was only one place for such as her, the Army.

The jolt of the shuttle docking with the military starship, that was to take her to the military training grounds, caused her to wipe her eyes with the heels of her hands and sit up straight. The hatch opened and an officer stepped into the cabin. She was the only new recruit in the shuttle so he looked directly at her.

Minara? His voice was harsh and unfriendly.

She nodded. Yes, sir.

Follow me.

She did as he ordered her to, but with leaden feet. Even her second name had been taken from her in her disgrace. Only high-ranking citizens had a second name, but since she was reduced to nothing she only had one. The officer spoke to her as he led her through the ship.

During the journey you will be fitted with a battle suit keyed to you, ready for your training. As we will be traveling near to enemy space remember that we have a code of conduct?

Minara nodded. Yes, sir. Never be taken alive.

Yes, and in addition ensure you wear your battle suit when facing the enemy. It will destroy your remains if you are killed, ensuring the filthy vermin cannot use it to develop chemical or biological weapons to use against us.

Yes, sir.

The armory sergeant raised an eyebrow as they entered and she heard him mutter under his breath, Not another female failed the selection process. He saluted the officer who indicated Minara.

Get a battle suit set up for her sergeant, will you.

Yes, sir, right away.

The officer turned and left. The sergeant’s dark hair and eyes gave him away as a member of the lower artisan classes, a Grojani, so at least he would not judge her, she hoped. The sergeant smiled at her. Cheer up, it’s not that bad. Make a go of it in the Army and you will be respected, do well and you will be honored.

He walked round from his desk and placed a hand on her back to guide her to the fitting room. She shuddered; the only other man who had touched her was her uncle and the emotions were still raw. The sergeant misunderstood her reaction to his gentle touch. Hey, it’s OK, the fitting is painless, the machines take care of everything.

Thank you, sergeant. Minara stepped into the booth and the door closed behind her. She heard the sergeant’s voice from a speaker in the wall of the booth. Please shut your eyes while the scanner builds a picture of your measurements for the fitting system. Minara closed her eyes as requested.

Moments later the door opened. All done, you can come out now.

Minara stepped out of the booth. Is that it, sergeant?

He laughed. Yes that’s all. If you go across the corridor you will find a waiting room, I will come and get you when it’s ready.

Just over an hour later the sergeant appeared carrying a wide thick belt. Please stand up and put this on.

Minara did as he requested then turned to him. And now?

Push the two buttons either side of the buckle so I can check the function.

She pushed the buttons and her suit unfolded from her belt, covering her in thin flexible armor.

It is impervious to most of the enemy’s hand weapons and is self contained, so no biological or chemical agents can get to you. It is also a short term space suit. She nodded, marveling at the suits lightness and her freedom of movement. This suit will be yours until you leave the military. If you do leave you must hand it back. He held out a tablet computer. Please sign here. He tapped the bottom of the screen.

Some hours, three space jumps and a shuttle ride later, she was standing in a line with other recruits. As she looked along the line she saw most were males. She sighed, she was going to have a lonely time of it, but at least she was far away from and out of reach of her family. An officer stepped in front of the line and started to speak.

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. You will find this basic training hard and tiring, but through hard work you will get on. Slack and you will suffer. He glared at them all. At the end of your training here you will have the basic knowledge and skills to fight and kill humans. You will then be transferred to your specialist units. Over there, he pointed to a gray barrack block, is where you will be staying during your time with us. Your room allocation is listed there. Go and settle in. Training starts first thing tomorrow morning.

Minara walked to the barrack block and quickly found the notice board. As she stood looking at the list she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find a young woman around the same age as her smiling at her and revealing filed front teeth. Minara had not smiled since she had suffered the same fate. Her beautiful even white teeth were now filed to ugly points, marking her out as a failure. This young woman seemed proud of her disfigurement.

Minara smiled back; perhaps she would not be alone after all. The woman said, Hello, I’m Varna. It seems we will be sharing a room while we are here.

Hello Varna, my name is Minara.

Hey, don’t look so sad, Minara. It doesn’t matter a fuck we failed the test to be good upright Grojan wives and mothers. Those fucking bitches are nothing better than slaves anyway. We are free! We will learn to fight and help clear the galaxy of the human vermin. Then when it is over we can do what the fuck we want with no one to stop us.

Minara looked at her wide-eyed, aghast at what she was saying and the un-ladylike language. I… I… suppose you’re right, I had not thought of it like that.

Varna slapped her on the back. Of course I’m right, now let’s go and find our billet.

As they walked, Minara turned to Varna. Do you know why the humans are considered vermin? After all they are sentient beings?

How should I know? She shrugged What does it matter? Killing humans is far better than working in a bar or some other menial job, like a dirty Grojani.

That night Minara slept for the first time in the training camp, and dreamt of sticking a large knife into her uncle’s guts and watching his innards spill over her armored feet.

Chapter Two. Arron

Stand up straight! the drill sergeant yelled into Arron Johnston’s face, and the sergeant’s spittle landed on his cheeks. He stood impassively, as to flinch or, heaven forbid, wipe his face, would probably result in fifty press-ups. Arron hated the sergeant with a passion reserved for raw recruits against their drill sergeant, probably since the time of the Romans. For an eighteen-year-old, such treatment seemed pointless. He had joined up to fight the Grojan, not put up with crap like this. The sergeant moved down the line and Arron sighed quietly to himself. Only two more days, you bastard!

All the recruits would get their posting orders that afternoon, and although they tried to appear nonchalant, it was the most important part of their time in basic training, as it would determine the future path of their army careers. They had all sat for a personality profile test, and while they were permitted to express a preference, for the most part they were allocated their particular positions or roles based on these profiles.

Arron had hoped for and requested the Space Corps infantry; he rather fancied jumping out of transports in full battle armor and taking out a whole bunch of Grojan. The fact that the mortality rate was high and the Grojan battle suit was far more advanced did not enter his mind.

The sergeant dismissed the parade and they filed towards the canteen. A group had already gathered by the notice board and some looked delighted whilst others appeared less so. Some had even been backtracked for a few weeks to go over the failed training modules again. Arron made use of his above average height, pushed forward a little and read his posting. He was, with immediate effect, to report to transport, not to join in the passing out parade as he had been allocated the Intelligence Corps. Arron’s gut twisted. I don’t want to be a fucking spy! I want to fight and kill fucking Grojan. But he knew there was nothing he could do, he was now a small cog in a vast machine not particularly noted for its competence.

As he turned from the notice board, his section corporal stepped in front of him. Private Johnston, pack your kit and report to the transport section in one hour.

Yes, Corp.

Arron hurried to do as he was ordered. As he packed, members of his section drifted in and out and he found he was constantly answering the same question. Where are you going, Arron? When he answered, he usually got a Tough luck, mate, or a Glad I’m not in your shoes mate, which did nothing to improve his mood.

When he arrived at the transport section a mini bus was waiting. A sergeant with a clipboard stood by the side door. Johnston?

Yes, Sergeant.

Put your kit in the back and get aboard, you’re the last.

Arron dumped his kit in the back of the bus, slammed the doors, then walked round to the side door and boarded. Three faces looked at him, he didn’t know any of them, which was not surprising as several hundred recruits were being trained at any one time. They nodded at him but remained silent. Arron was happy to remain silent himself. All he knew about the Intelligence Corps was that it was a shadowy organization that reported directly to the planetary government, bypassing the normal military hierarchy. Some things it did were rumored to be on the fringe of human military activity and well outside of what once would have been considered ethical conduct.

They were bussed to a military spaceport then split up. Arron found himself on a military shuttle to Ganymede.

Thirty-six hours, and his first interplanetary jump later, and he was being escorted by a sergeant to his new dormitory. There were several bases on Ganymede and he had found out this one was the smallest and most secret. Other than that information, his enquiries had been met with stony silence.

The sergeant knocked at a door half way along a short brightly lit corridor. Arron noted that each corridor had an airtight door separating it from the central main hub. A muffled. Come in and the sergeant pushed open the door. A new bunkmate for you, sir.

Thank you, sergeant. That’ll be all.

The sergeant saluted, turned on his heels and left. A tall, dark skinned young man around Arron’s age stood and offered Arron his hand. James Martin, welcome to Ganymede. That was Sergeant Smithson, he indicated the door the sergeant had just closed. A good sort, but make sure you stay on the right side of him though.

James raised an eyebrow and Arron remembered he had not introduced himself. Sorry sir, Arron Johnston.

Hey, you don’t have to sir me, we are the same rank.

But I’m just a private.

Not now you’re not, Arron, you are a junior officer now, and once the training is finished you will be given the rank of Captain in Special Ops. I suppose they have not told you anything?

No er… James they haven’t.

Bloody typical. Well, first off make yourself at home, that is your bunk, desk and chair. He indicated a bunk on the opposite wall reached by a small ladder built over a desk and cupboard. A small chair was pushed under the desk. That, Arron, is your sole private world for the next two and a half years."

Arron quickly found that James did not know much more than he did. He had arrived the day before from Mars and had been kicking his heels in the common room since then. All he had found out was they had been automatically given the rank of Second Lieutenant.

The next two and a half years were filled with specialist weapon training, including knives, swords, sabotage, explosives and even details of captured Grojan ships, although the actual ships were badly damaged and the computer cores destroyed, so they had worked on reconstructed mock-ups. They were told that a Grojan had never been found dead or alive, they always fought to the death and their battle suit had some unknown bio-monitoring system that disintegrated the body once the heart had stopped.

Their primary role was to be dropped onto populated alien planets then to melt into the population with the false identity that would be set up by an advanced initial contact team. They were then to watch for Grojan activity. When one student asked the obvious question, how would they know when no one knew what a Grojan looked like, they were told that any invading or alien visitors were to be assumed Grojan and any unusual activity at all was to be reported. If command believed an advantage could be gained, their role was to change and they were to take every opportunity to sabotage the Grojan. Otherwise, the agent was to remain hidden in the population and continue reporting the alien activity.

At the end of the two and a half years, students were allowed leave to visit their families for the last time and to make their final goodbyes as once plastic and cosmetic surgery was started, contact with anyone other than specialist Intelligence Corps personnel was forbidden.

Arron stood trying not to look nervous and uncomfortable in his dark grey Intelligence Corps uniform with his new captain’s pips shining on his shoulder. He stood at the bus depot waiting for his father to pick him up. People tried not to stare at him and he had found, even on the crowded bus from the airport, no one sat next to him. It was blatantly obvious people mistrusted the almost black uniform.

A car hummed round the corner and stopped in front of him. The passenger door opened and a familiar voice shouted, Come on then, get in, my son.

Arron ducked down. Hi Dad. Then he opened the back door and threw his luggage onto the back seat and closed the door. He grabbed the front passenger door, swung himself round and sat down in the passenger seat of the car, shutting the door after him. His father held out his hand, a big smile on his face. Hello, my son. Arron took his father’s hand in a firm grip. The older man then held his free hand over Arron’s.

It’s really good to see you, Arron. Your mother and sister are at home, waiting eagerly for you. His father looked back over his shoulder and moved off. Once they had joined the freeway the car switched to auto and Arron’s father leaned back in the seat. He looked over at his son. Well, you look great in your uniform, but what made you decide on the Intelligence Corps?"

Arron sighed. "Actually, Dad, I didn’t have a choice. I wanted the infantry, but due to the