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He caught the tail and snapped the clip in place.

Taking long strides, he crossed to the small replicator and ordered fresh armor.

He dressed, with the final task the latching of the magnetic straps on his boots.

A row of daggers sat on the table, tempting him to slot them into their loops along his belt.

He hesitated. Being that armed on board was illogical, but the compulsion to do so was strong.

The memory of Wren touching Hiossu’s forearm had Cylo sliding a hunting knife into his boot sheath. Its heaviness offered some comfort and calmed his anxiety. Hiossu escaping his quarters was slim, and even if he managed it, overpowering the operatives on board wasn’t conceivable.

Cylo chose a meal then sat at the table with the lump of gold at its center, his virak of poisons, and an array of daggers to the side.

Re-ordering the tools to make a knife in the time it took to reach Issneen was a foolish waste of resources.

Besides, with how unwell Wren had been, he doubted he’d have a free moment.

He chuckled. A rainbow-haired, purple-skinned woman with indecisive eye color? None of his fellow operatives on board the Gladio would believe him. And since a few women had triggered the Ethera, then so could Wren.

That realization dismissed his good humor. Losing her to another male… A pairing was progress for Etteria, and yet, the thought didn’t bring him joy like Durok’s salvation had. And what if these changes she’d undergone on a genetic level did make her compatible with Maloidians? He groaned. Hiossu .

Why was that male waiting for Wren to be well before revealing what he knew?

Cylo shoved aside his uneaten meal and flipped open his virak.

Rows of black, glass vials sat on the top drawer.

He lifted that out to reveal the stash below.

To know the contents was to uncap each one.

The unprepared dared to sniff. Poisons assaulted the senses: touch, taste, smell.

Some affected the mind: perception, self-awareness, sight, speech, beliefs.

With the right combination, he could make anyone believe he was the Maker.

Since he need not fear an uninitiated accessing his virak, he’d carved tiny symbols into each vial: | for smell, || for taste, and ||| for touch.

He stroked them, and depending on the marking, he inhaled, sipped, or smeared the liquid or dusted powder across his inner wrist. Nuances of scents told him what they were, from the Uikl lizard to the gagoni from the planet Durn—the rarest of them all and the sweetest smelling.

A warm buzz settled in his bloodstream as the poison took effect.

He grinned, remembering his first time sipping just one vial.

Determined not to ask for healing even as he swore his blood bubbled, he’d endured.

Switching the bottom tray for the top told him which vials to sample.

That way, he kept his immunity at its peak against all known poisons.

Flicking the lid shut, he marched to the Kevol’s makeshift confinement—a room opposite to his. He entered without chiming.

“What is Wren to you?” he demanded, then clenched his jaw at the revealing question. It wasn’t what he’d intended to ask.

Hiossu sprawled on the bed, stiffened, then sat up. “A victim?”

“She seems too familiar with your person,” Cylo growled. He glanced away, fighting to gain control. To feel is to fail .

“I do not know the ways of these Earthians. Perhaps they communicate with touch.” The Maloidian shrugged and lay down. The sickly-sweet aroma of genkoo hung in the air, so he had at least eaten.

Cylo folded his arms across his chest, not believing Hiossu’s air of indifference. “Then why insist she be well before your interrogation?”

“You seemed distracted, Operative Cylo,” he said with a dismissive flick of his hand. “You needed time to gather your thoughts.”

Cylo grunted. “How many women have passed through that facility? Why her? Why now?”

Hiossu smirked. “Because she had somehow managed to find a dagger.” He chuckled.

“She had hidden it in her boot. It was our steel, and yet, she had not cut herself.” Sliding an arm behind his head, he gazed at the ceiling.

“The other females screamed, cried, made threats. This one had courage. Had the Yithians realized this, they would have done far worse to her. I do not think you would understand how precious such fearlessness is.” His lips curled downward.

“She has strength where I am weak. I never once raised my dislike of my uncle’s methods, of his insane goals.

I suppose you could say she inspired me to rebel. ”

She had made Cylo question the efficacy of his males, their equipment—something an Etterian never did but an operative should do.

“I suppose you are hoping she is your Dar Eth?”

A weight crushed Cylo’s chest in a vice grip. He did his best to hide his reaction. “Finding my pairing is a constant hope. It would be a blessed gift if she is mine.”

“For the part I played, I am indeed sorry.” Hiossu bowed his head. “You need not fear that I am an abingu, ready to strike.”

“Such an attack we prepare for,” Cylo mumbled, the weight of the dagger in his boot lying heavy on his conscience.

The venom from a slithering abingu was the dangerous part, which meant Cylo couldn’t relax his guard around the talkative Hiossu just yet.

“Tell me, how do the Yithians manage to steal these women without us or Earth’s forces noticing? ”

Not that Cylo had respect for Earth’s detection systems. Supreme Commander Ulriq had been able to land and enjoy a meal on Earth without trouble. Well, excluding the Yithian attack. That too had gone unnoticed. At that stage, Earth and Etteria had yet to negotiate a treaty. Ulriq had risked much.

Too much.

But when King Xeus had learned of humans triggering the Ethera, nothing had stopped him from conquering Earth—through treaties or war.

Thankfully, the latter hadn’t been necessary.

It had been close, though, with Medic Teric insisting on returning with his Dar Eth to her planet when nothing had been finalized.

Had Earth declined Teric’s relocation, King Xeus would have used all Etteria’s battleships in a show of force.

Hence Malo’s new appointment as ambassador and engineer. It didn’t help that Princess Oriana didn’t trust her own people.

Cylo smothered a laugh. He’d have to reach out to Garix and find out how Malo was doing.

“Well?” He faced Hiossu. “How do the Yithians succeed?”

“That I do not know. Do Yithian ships have stealth?”

Cylo stiffened. “No.” Though, if an agreement had been made between Maloid and Yithia, perhaps Maloid had seen fit to share this? “Comm me if there is something you recall.”

“Of course.” Hiossu didn’t glance at Cylo when he left.

He paused in the passage while the door sealed. “Olin,” he said into his O.D.I. “Investigate whether Yithia has Maloid’s stealth technology.”

“Mm, when they have refused to share that with us? I shall task Data Officer Tias to prioritize this.”

Cylo pursed his lips. Tias was one of the best and a dear battle-bonds, but the more eyes on this, the better. “Excellent. Perhaps ask all data officers in orbit around Earth, Maloid, and Yithia.”

“Wise. I will keep you informed.”

“Share your findings with Adviser Kanzo, as well.” Cylo ended the comm and headed to medical.