The Yithian smirked.
“You do not take this seriously, xemi,” Malo growled then spoke to Cylo.“Your turn or mine?”
Cylo hesitated, the urge to kill the xemi or ‘scum’ pressing on his sense of justice.“Yours, Operations Commander.”
“Truth?”Malo grunted.
“Yes, I dealt with the Maloidian, if you recall.”
Malo retrieved the Maloidian throwing dagger he’d strapped to his upper arm.Cylo was in the process of crafting such a four-blade holster, the design ancient since it had been a gift from Malo’s father before he’d died on Gikaet.
The Yithian stiffened at the sight of the compact blade.
Malo paused to study the gleam off the blade.“I have been most lenient with you, Smez, due to our history.I see you would prefer to take advantage of our bond.This is not wise.”
“I cannot betray Yithia, Malo.They have my estuuba.”Smez’s eyes pleaded as only soulless, black eyes could.
Holding the dagger to Smez’s finger, Malo whispered, “What family?I know you too well for that lie to affect me.”He angled the blade to catch the light.“You only have three fingers.It would be a shame to lose one.”
Smez pinched his lips in open defiance.
Malo sliced the finger in one clean stroke, the bone not impeding the blade.The Yithian screamed, curling his remaining two fingers into his palm.His silver finger lay in gray blood.
“I said I would not ask you again, Smez.What Iwillask is which finger is next?I will allow you the illusion of choice.”Malo arched a brow.
“You are a bastard, Malo.”Smez clutched his hands to his chest.
Malo grabbed his wrist and twisted.The prisoner squeaked but couldn’t prevent Malo from pinning his wrist to the table.
Smez’s gaze followed the descent of the blade.“Iphara.There’s a laboratory on Iphara.”
Malo frowned, stopping the blade just above Smez’s middle finger.“Why a laboratory?To what purpose?”He cast a glance at Cylo.
Blind fury consumed Cylo.He tightened his hand on the blaster, ready to fire.
“We seek to understand the attraction,” Smez panted.“Why do Etterian males prefer Earthian females?”
“That is illogical.This does not serve Yithia.”Malo brought down the blade.
Smez twitched his fingers.“Compatibility,” he spat.“If Earthians are compatible with Etterians, they may be with other species.”
“You wish to sell them.”Malo blinked.
Sell Dar Eths?Cylo stepped closer.
“As pleasure slaves.”Smez’s shoulders slumped.
“Where on Iphara?”Cylo demanded, raising the blaster.
“In an underground chamber.Few Yithians are aware of it,” Smez blurted.
“How many females are there?”Cylo roared and withdrew his blade.
Malo scowled.Cylo didn’t care if his reactions disappointed his commander.Females were in danger, bartered like kreso, as…sex slaves.
“Seven,” Smez stammered, his solid-black gaze riveted on Cylo.“They showed no warrior skills, were too weak.Nor did they resist the soldiers sent to retrieve them.”
“How long have they been there?”Malo demanded.