“That was my thinking,” Malik agreed.
Jenna’s brow furrowed. “Do we have enough time to prepare?”
Malik nodded, although his expression had hardened. “We’d better get those hoppers now.” He retrieved his cloak and shrugged it on. A moment later, Vic did the same.
“I’ll just stay here and hang out with Obsidian then,” she said, gesturing to where the battle-droid had perched on the edge of one of the sofas, red eyes glowing. In truth, she wasn’t sure how she felt about being left alone with it. However, pride prevented her from admitting such.
“Jenna … could you also show me the plan you drew of Mir-Brennan Tower?” the droid rasped. “I would like to study it, while our companions are occupied elsewhere.”
“All right,” she replied, taken aback. She hadn’t expected Obsidian to be proactive. She’d always thought of battle-droids as drones. They followed orders; they didn’t think independently.
But this one was different.
As soon as she and Obsidian were alone in the lounge, she picked up her glass of juice and took a large gulp, sighing as the cool, sweet liquid ran down her throat. She then withdrew her tablet from her bag, sat down next to the battle-droid, and brought up the outline she’d drawn earlier.
She knew Mir-Brennan Tower intimately, having grown up there. She and Cathal had spent hours as children playing hide-and-seek in its secret corners. They’d even ventured down to the detention block once—much to their father’s fury.
Thinking of her brother made Jenna’s stomach clench.
His execution was scheduled; there was no time to waste. Things were moving fast now, faster than she’d anticipated. But they’d get there in time. The Mir-Ferrin clan-lord wouldn’t get the public spectacle he wanted.
We’re coming, Cathal.
Tian stood outside the cell and observed the man inside.
The Mir-Brennan clan-lord couldn’t see him. Cathal sat upon the sleeping pallet, his back against the wall, staring sightlessly at the featureless wall opposite. The man’s face was desolate, his brown eyes glazed.
Tian’s mouth curved, a shaft of vindictive pleasure arrowing through him. No longer the supremely confident clan-lord, but a broken man—Cathal had lost hope.
Next to Tian was a comm, through which he’d informed the Mir-Brennan clan-lord that he’d been found guilty by a jury of his peers. The following day at noon, he would be escorted onto the terrace in front of the tower, where an executioner would take his head off with a laser-blade—for the whole sector to see.
“You’ve delivered the news then.”
Tian turned to see a tall, spare figure dressed in flowing bronze striding down the corridor of the detention block toward him. The harsh overhead lighting highlighted the ruthless lines on the Mir-Ferrin clan-lord’s face. Two battle-droids marched at his heels, the rattle of their armor and whirr of metallic joints echoing off the featureless walls.
Tian tensed at the sight of his father. He should have known the old man would come down here to check he’d done the job properly. Hiding his irritation, he nodded. “Mir-Brennan asked to see his wife and daughter.”
Mican drew to a halt, glancing through the one-way glass at his prisoner. “And what did you tell him?”
“I denied his request.”
A smile slashed across his father’s face. “Good lad.”
“What are we going to do with Isla and Beatrix?” Tian asked. He was mildly curious as to his father’s plans for the last two members of the Mir-Brennan ruling family.
Don’t forget about Jenna, he reminded himself then, his gut hardening.
The Widow Makers had let him down—but surely the price he’d put on his wife’s head would get her dealt to. A bounty hunter would find her.
“The girl will be sent to the Sisters of Awe,” Mican replied. His lack of hesitation revealed that he’d given this some thought already.
Tian nodded, impressed by his father’s choice. The convent—which was located on Pillarus One, a barren planet on the outer reaches of the sector—was the ideal place to send Beatrix. Many ruling-class families sent unwanted daughters there to watch over the eternal flame that burned in honor of the Gods.
“And her mother?”
His father quirked a greying eyebrow. “Well … her fate depends on you, my son.”
Tian stiffened. “What do you mean?”
