The beings stopped in front of his chamber. The door opened, revealing Picton, the guard who had dared to damage Illona. Malice also glimpsed Bonin’s face in the hallway.
Fury swept over him.
They would both die. Soon. Painfully. He would exact retribution for the agony they’d delivered to his female, his friend, himself.
But he couldn’t kill them now. Malice scrubbed all evidence of his anger from his expression, leaving his countenance blank.
The door closed. Bonin remained outside the chamber.
Picton aimed a gun at him. The male looked around the space. “The medic is missing.” He curled his top lip. “I told Bonin and Nelson to stay away from the cyborg chambers, but did they listen? No.” The guard answered his own question. “Those idiots must have let that cold-hearted human go.” His gaze paused on the pool of blood by the door and then stopped again at the blood splattered around the sleeping support. “She hurt before she was freed. Severely. I’m glad for that.”
Picton would hurt. Severely. Before he died.
Malice would ensure he felt pain.
“Get on the sleeping support, machine.” The guard waved his gun.
It would require very little effort to disarm the male, to end his lifespan, to leave the chamber and join Illona and Valor. But that would bring their activities to the attention of the Humanoid Alliance.
The enemy would take action sooner than they otherwise would. They would send their ships, their warriors, to kill them.
Allowing himself to be stunned, tortured, wouldn’t raise the Humanoid Alliance’s suspicions. It would give them more time, a better probability of liberation.
The humans watching them through the monitoring equipment expected him to obey the guard’s commands. Compliance was his normal response, a tactic he’d utilized in the past to shield Valor and himself from decommissioning.
This planet rotation, he’d utilize it to protect all the beings he cared for.
Malice suppressed his rage and reclined on the sleeping support.
“Good machine.” Picton laughed as he stunned him.
Pain jolted Malice’s form. His organics froze in place. He hated not being able to move, and he hated the fraggin’ human swaggering toward him.
Picton exchanged his gun for his reprimand stick. “If you had killed her, I might have showed you some leniency, machine.” He smacked the metal against his palm. “I might have done that.” His laugh sported a sharp edge. “I hate that frigid female.”
The guard rapped the reprimand stick across Malice’s shins. Agony shot up his legs. He endured it…because that was all he could do.
Valor. He contacted his brethren through the transmission lines. Keep the medic in your chamber.
His fragile little human would be in danger if she left that space. Loathing for her vibrated through the guard’s voice. The male would seek to damage Illona.
“The medic would add a note to my file if she knew I was here.” Picton targeted Malice’s groin next, slamming the reprimand stick across his cock. The pain was excruciating. “She believes hurting you impacts her damn results.”
The tension pulling across Malice’s shoulders eased.
His female hadn’t lied to him about trying to reduce his agony. The guard had no reason to fabricate her response, and she had used similar wording with the Humanoid Alliance, trying to convince them to allow the usage of pain inhibitors.
That argument was illogical…as their enemy must have processed. They’d denied her request.
Damage, pain, and other stressors created more nanocybotics. They would boost the results of her experiments, not hurt them.
His overly cautious medic would have proven that with her numerous tests. She would have processed that wouldn’t impact her results.
Illona had uttered those foolish statements, had risked her already precarious position with the Humanoid Alliance, for him, to decrease his pain.
Fraggin’ hole. There was an 86.2598 percent probability the blasted female would seek to protect him now if she processed his situation.
Don’t relay to my medic I’m being tortured. He sent that message to Valor.
His female might confront Picton, attempt to stop the torment. She was fragile, human, easily broken, and the guard hated her…more than Malice ever had.
The medic has removed the explosive. His friend gave him that update. I’m advising her to wait until that damage repairs before extracting the tracking devices. That will slow the process.
The delay would be required. Picton appeared to be in no rush to end the beating. The guard hit Malice twice across the stomach with the reprimand stick, the metal ringing against his frame.
Malice clenched his jaw. The impact of the stunning had worn off. Due to his enhanced nanocybotics, he recovered much quicker than he had in the past.
“She thinks she’s so smart, with that big brain of hers.” Picton’s eyes glowed with a malicious zeal. “She doesn’t realize two beings can use that tactic.” He slammed the reprimand stick against Malice’s face. Blood speckled his visual system. “I put notes in her file about how she talked with that other medic, the one who blew her own head off. I told them how they were always bumping into each other in the hallways.” The male snorted. “The two cunts hated each other, but the beings reviewing the footage won’t know that.”
The fraggin’ male would push Illona into danger. Malice curled his fingers into fists. His female hadn’t hated the other medic. She’d considered the female to be her friend.
A closer review of the footage might reveal their connection.
“Fuck. I wish it had been her that had walked through that door.” Picton beat Malice with the reprimand stick again and again. “They were both uptight females who thought they were better than everyone else, but she’s the worst, always haranguing me about the way I treat you machines. I would like to see her head being blown off. That would shut that measly mouth of hers forever.”
Malice’s doubts about his female’s motives dissipated with each whack of the guard’s reprimand stick. Illona was highly intelligent. She must have processed Picton would cause trouble for her, was a formidable enemy to make, yet she’d confronted and provoked the male.
For him. She had done it to shield him, not caring that it placed her lifespan at risk.
He recalled her anger after her friend’s death, how she’d appeared willing to seek vengeance, processing there was a high probability she would die. His female was brave, foolishly so, and too blasted careless with her well-being.
Picton’s face turned red. Sweat streamed down his ruddy cheeks. The guard struck Malice with all his might…which wasn’t much. He was a human. But it was enough to beat his flesh into mush.
As usual, Malice was stunned at regular intervals. The guard didn’t have the courage to hit him without those invisible restraints.
Malice endured the pain and withdrew into his processors. In the past, he had focused on hating Illona, on plotting her death, his vengeance. All his anger had been directed at her.
He no longer blamed her for her actions. She’d been trapped as he had been, was forced to play a role to ensure she lived and he survived.
During this planet rotation’s beating, he concentrated on the yearning inside him, on the need he had for his little female. It burned within him, had grown stronger with every breeding.