Myitt nods. "Alright," she says softly. "That will be enough time." She looks at Zorish, then down at the modified Dracon. "You have three options, Sub-Visser. First, we can erase your memory and return you to the Empire, hostless. Although the risk of complications is high you would remain alive. Second, you leave that host of yours, we'll put you into stasis and eject you into space. It's better than starving." She shifts her weight and sighs. "Or I'll use this." Myitt looks up at Zorish again. "It doesn't take long, and the pain won't last. The point is, Sub-Visser, we really don't have many other choices, here. I wish it could be different, but it can't."
She glances at Ossanlin and Alic, trying to stall for time. Myitt had no intention of killing Zorish off if she didn't have to, but the fact was, their mission was to deliver Tamora, uninfested. They'd already learned what they could from Zorish, and at this point the Sub-Visser really was an expendable security risk.
And if faced with the security of her friends and the rebellion, Myitt really would pull the trigger.