Dante’s Command: Scifi Alien Abduction Romance (Science Fiction Alien Romance) (Survival Wars Book 1) (3 page)

The Mites?

He would protect her.  Treasured female, brilliant mind, she
was the last hope for his people and he would do anything within his power to
ensure she arrived home safely.

He reached out to his screen and wordlessly tapped out
commands, the camera zooming in on the small gathering of Mites.  Part of him
wanted to growl with anger, while the rest of him was relieved, in a way. 
While the nasty bugs were dangerous in any amount, their small number meant he
could dispatch them with ease –hopefully before they got too close.  What they
traded for in size and defense, they made up for in speed.

Of course, that meant his bulkier vessel would be in for a
rough time if they got within range.  He set his mouth into a grim line and,
though he hated to do it, ramped up the ship’s power.  Watching their valuable
resources being drained into the energy cannon, he felt a niggling sense of
urgency crawl up his spine and spin in agitated circles at the nape of his
neck. 

Such an inconvenience,
he thought, and felt the minds
of his brethren stirring angrily in agreement.  Though he had planned on
returning from this voyage having used up minimal fuel –and thus hopefully
lessening his punishment- now it seemed as though they would be returning
practically empty –and with a single human to balance out the waste.

He sincerely hoped this was the right thing to do, as there
wasn’t going to be a chance after this to try again.

If this Mariella failed, it would mean his death.  And no
one else would attempt another radical solution such as this.  The Mites would
win.

Focus,
he scowled at himself, and glanced down at the
screen. 
Fantastic.

The enemy had caught sight of them.  Their little ships had
adjusted slightly, the fronts pointed in his direction and accelerating so
rapidly now that he could begin to make out the spines at the front and the
finned sides, which seemed to swim through space.  Comparing their speed and
the progress of the charging cannon, he gritted his teeth and anxiously turned
up the power a notch more.  It would be so incredibly close…

His men were rattling around anxiously at their own screens,
either working at the cannon, or aiming, or simply piloting the ship, while
others delivered the commands to continue heating up all the fuel.  Though his
was the ultimate authority, all actions went through a manned system of checks
and balances to ensure there were no problems along the way.  It was a simple
system, though not the fastest.

Of course, the ship’s system hadn’t been updated in years,
either…

At least, this seemed to be an unprepared scouting party. 
Their charging him seemed to be a good indicator that they had no help to
summon.

Only dimly was he aware of Mariella in the background,
saying things in her human tongue.  The bracelet was still translating but she
was one voice lost amidst the murmurs of his men, sharing as they did in that
buzzing language which was felt more than heard.  Their minds were quite
connected, as was proper for their colony life, and he smelled their tension
and aggravation, just as he knew they could smell and taste his.  And as he
readied the shot, and the man who controlled the cannon readied with him, he
calmed himself to just this moment and felt them calm, too.

Focused, as one, they sent the shot.

It lit up the screen in a burst of blue, streaking through
empty space like a comet blasting by.  Mariella cried out wordlessly, her alarm
apparent even to those who couldn’t understand.  Dante gripped his dashboard
with white-knuckled fingers, and watched with dark satisfaction as two of the
Mite ships dashed sideways, out of the range of the concussive burst as it tore
past.  The third was not so lucky however, having been unable to see the
trajectory of the cannon’s fire from where it was behind its brothers. 

The shot landed perfectly.

There was no explosion, no splintering, no dramatics as he
had seen from some Earth broadcasts.  Where the cannon’s fire hit, a hole
merely burned through the front of the craft.  That was all that was necessary,
as the hull was breached, and the unforgiving lack of atmosphere poured in.

Every Mite on the ship would suffocate.

Good.

Even after just firing the first shot, Dante slammed his
fingers back on the control panel to ready the next.  Now that the cannons were
warmed up, progress went much faster.  In less than a minute, the second Mite
ship went down.  Unfortunately, they were close enough this time that they got
to watch the bodies and debris be pulled out into sight by the vacuum of space.

Mariella gasped, shocked and disturbed as the bodies
writhed, pining for breath.  Dante would have given anything to spare her the
sight, though in the back of his mind he knew that she would truly understand
the magnitude of the situation now.  He hadn’t doubted her before but now? 

Yes.

His concentration slipped.  One second too slow to press the
final button again.  And the enemy ship slammed into them.  It was a sight to
behold, the whole front of the screen devoured by the sight of it.  Grey and
insectile, he caught a glimpse of the twisted, clacking faces behind the
craft’s front window screen in the instant before impact.  They were bitter and
determined, knowing now their preemptive attack had turned into failure.  Their
only option, being such a sick people, was suicide.

It was the easy way out, robbing him of satisfaction, and
them of any honor they might have gained by dying in true combat. 

Of course, it was not easy for the ship.

The impact shook through the whole vessel, knocking his men
from their seats and shoving him hard against the wall of his console.  Alarms
startled bleeping, and an aggravated hum told him very quickly that somewhere
their hull had been breached, probably by one of those gigantic spikes on the
front of the Mite ship.  Mariella was on the floor, with her guard wrapped
around her.  He was rubbing his head, obviously having taken the brunt of the
fall for her. 

Focus,
he snarled again at his men, and then dragged
himself back upright despite the whole of his legacy trying to shake itself to
pieces.  A few of them managed to stagger upright, and he slapped as many
buttons at once as he could, raising an energy field which would seal over the
breach.  One alarm dropped out, though another one took its place to remind him
of just how low power was now.  At their current rate, which he assessed with a
practiced eye, they would run out just above the planet.

From there, it would be a crash-landing unless he could
adjust quickly enough now to save their skins.

It took a bit of adjusting and some rapid figuring, but
eventually it worked.  Dante brought up a list of every operation on the ship
currently draining power, and shut it down.  The lights, he cut by half again. 
The cannon, he cut off.  Looking at the atmosphere, he sliced away at the
oxygen and other breathable gasses until all of them would just barely stay
within consciousness.  Another emergency would require more thought, and more
breathing, but until then, het let as much drain away as possible.

He did regret getting Mariella involved in this, and knew
she would struggle even more than the rest of them, but it was a risk he could
have to take.

When it was all over, he slumped back in his chair and
heaved a great sigh.  Eventually, one of his men wandered over.  “What shall we
do now?” he voiced worriedly, gesturing.

Dante glanced at his team of twenty-four, the brave souls
who unanimously agreed to join him.  They had put all their faith in him, and
suddenly he was determined not to let them down.  He looked up at the man, at
his disheveled hair and too-weary face, and gave as much of a smile as he could
spare.  “Figure it out for yourselves.  I will need two of you to stay behind,
to continue to pilot the ship, but I want everyone else to shut off their
screens.  We will rotate positions, save some energy.  Everyone else must
sleep.”

“Are you sure?” the man asked worriedly.

They were all of them tactical and loyal, but they didn’t
know as much as he.  Even if they were in leisure, eating or talking quietly,
it was still too much waste.  If they slept, they would use up less air.

But, he did not say that out loud.  He did not say that
Mariella breathed very quickly, like all humans, and would tax their systems. 
He did not say that even her insignificant weight had shifted the balance
irreparably.  And Dante most certainly did not say that he was afraid they
would now never make it home.  Furthermore, he kept these thoughts hidden from
his men and just kept smiling.  “I’m sure.”

They filed out of the room, all of them, even Mariella’s
guard.  Two stayed to watch their screens, shoulders tense and eyes hazy.

Mariella was doing no better, and he hated to see the
glossiness over her sharp mind.  “Are you okay?” he asked, leaning over a
little to look her in the face.

She frowned at him, and when she spoke her voice was
slurred.  “I just have one question.”

“Ask anything of me, and I will answer,” he assured her, as
was their way. 

She squinted a little.  “Venus has a day cycle that lasts
longer than its year.  How is solar energy supposed to help you?”

He knew exactly what she meant, that they could not rely on
an energy source which would disappear for nearly as long as it was present. 
“I don’t know,” he admitted.  “And I never said we would use solar power, as
you have.  I asked for power.  That is all.  In any form at all.”

Mariella opened her mouth as if to argue, but then her eyes
rolled back in her head and she passed out.

In time, she came to know these people.  And she named them,
because their words for themselves wouldn’t translate into English.  And she
came to call their colony the Hive, and she named them Drones, after the male
worker bees. 

Even at the pace of the ship, it took a few days to reach
Venus.  That astonished her.  Even as sluggish as she felt, with the oxygen
just barely enough to satisfy her starving lungs, she sometimes spent hours
pestering Dante over questions of technology.  Ever the willing host, he sat
there and explained things over and over until she understood. 

Her frustration at being so miserably inadequate was
tempered by a lack of energy to keep up with that feeling, and most of the time
she was just miserable.  Still, she enjoyed those conversations with the man as
he described his reactor engine and the various fuels it ran off, most of which
were nuclear reactions of some kind. 

And when she wasn’t talking, she was either sleeping back in
that private room where she woke up, or staring dully at the screen on the
front of the ship.  Seeing as how the ship itself had no windows, these screens
were the only way to see outside.  Most of the time, it was black and
shapeless.  Dante piloted the ship during those times using some sort of
complicated grid system, almost like a GPS which came standard in Earth cars
now, but at other times she saw things.  Sometimes it was a trick of her bored
eyes struggling for something unique to pinpoint, for necessary exercise, but
on occasion it was a glimpse of star, a speck of dust.

Mostly though, it was just dark.  She should have expected
that, seeing as how space was infinitely vast and there were thousands of miles
between even the closest of objects, but it was still disappointing.

And she went back and forth over her own convictions,
arguing with herself just for the sake of doing something.  It was during one
of these internal arguments, the day before they were to land –Venus was a mere
tannish speck on the screen and absolutely unremarkable as of yet- that Dante actually
sought her out for himself for the first time.

Normally, that was the other way around.

It took her a long time to realize that someone sat near
her.  She was in the command room, currently empty but for Dante at the wheel,
and sitting in front of one of the darkened computer screens.

A niggling sensation hit her ears, like an embarrassed
blushing, and she looked up to see Dante sat before her, leaning in close.

He hummed a little as he spoke.  “What are you thinking of
right now?”

That humming reminded her of part of the reason she’d named
them after bees.  It wasn’t just what she’d pieced together of their
female-driven society, or the colony as he described it.  Surprisingly, it also
wasn’t because she sometimes saw the men act in sync with each other and
quickly realized that they all seemed to have a connection of sorts.  Perhaps
it wasn’t telepathy, but they certainly thought the name ways. 

In any case, it was comforting to hear him hum so softly and
steadily.  It meant he wasn’t aggravated about anything and, as a result,
neither were any of the others.

“I was just thinking about how you guys can last in a place
like this,” she admitted finally.  It wasn’t quite a lie, in the way that she
certainly sometimes thought about things, but everything else was pure
fabrication on the spur of the moment.

Dante’s mouth quirked a bit with amusement.  She licked her
lips absently, watching him.  “What part do you refer to?”

“What part?” Mariella shrugged, feeling at a loss to
explain.  “I guess it’s the same question I’d ask an American astronaut.”  He
looked as though he still didn’t understand, so she was as quick as she could
to expound upon it.  “You’re in the same place constantly.  You don’t get to
eat or drink real food.”  She shuddered.  Partaking of their liquid nutrient
system, a device which injected vitamins and minerals directly into the
bloodstream, was decidedly not her favorite part of all this.  “How do you keep
from going crazy?”

“How do you?” he replied in kind, but then shrugged quickly
as he saw she wasn’t going to go for the bait.  She sensed that, and
appreciated his tact. 

Dante looked away, and then sighed.  He looked down at his
hands, seeming defeated.  “Quite honestly, I hold on because this is all I ever
wanted.  Even though this is one of the lowliest positions for a male, I
lowered myself willingly.  I have always dreamed of this life, of defending my
planet.  And now I fear I will not be able to conquer my enemies as I swore to
when I took my captain’s oath. 

“I know my men all feel the same way.  It is our ambitions
which drive us so steadily to our goal.”

Mariella blinked at the unexpected sentiment, quite honestly
taken aback.  Reaching out, she patted at the back of his hand to reassure him
but he flinched as though she stung him. 

That part of him still mystified her.  All he spoke of as
far as societal roles seemed to be decidedly backwards.  A military man, and an
accomplished one, yet the lowest of the low for a “male.”  A Queen, with no
mention of her king.  And now, even though she honestly found him to be
attractive despite that ridiculous outfit, he seemed hardly to recognize that
she was even a woman.

His eyes never strayed.

His touches were always gentlemanly.

Yet, in her half-drunken state of delirium, she often found
herself wishing he would simply do something –a mile or a rejection, either one
would be serviceable.

However, for now, nothing happened.

He left her then, standing up.  “I must go check our
coordinates,” he explained uncomfortably.  “I will return.”

Just as he was walking away, and she was studying his butt
through these strange overalls, she suddenly realized something and called him
back.  “Dante?”

He nearly flew back, and sat in his same seat as before. 
“Yes?” he panted, clearly exhausted just from that bit of running.  A warm glow
of admiration bubbled up inside her.  If
she
tried to move like that in
here, she suspected she just might die.

“Just how exactly am I going to get off the ship?”

Worry overtook her, more powerful than it should have been. 
I’m so exhausted,
she thought, and resisted the urge to slip into
unconsciousness. 

“I mentioned special suits before,” he explained gently.  “I
will show you how they work, so do not fear.  And you will be able to adjust it
however you wish.”

She only stared back at him dully, not quite understanding. 
Gently, he smiled and then stood.  “Fear not.  I will protect you.”

He strode back to his control panel like a cowboy on a
mission, and she examined his butt again.  Such a fine man, a shining example
of a man, and for a moment she regretted just how inexperienced she was with
her own sexuality.

That must be the reason he wasn’t accepting her advances. 
In her addled state, she didn’t consider that it might be there was simply no
way to initiate any physically demanding behaviors.  And she considered nothing
else beyond that. 

Leaning back against the wall, she let her eyes slip closed
and nodded off as she so often did now.