“Don’t be sorry, Sabrina!” Somewhat to McKeon’s surprise, it was Simmons, interrupting the Havenite before she could finish. “I think he did it, Cynthia and Albert and Alistair all think he did it, and you think he did it. But you were right. We can’t prove it, and if we ever start rubber-stamping execution orders, we’ll be just as bad as the people we’re hanging.” He smiled sourly as Longmont raised an eyebrow at him, and then shrugged. “I know. I voted guilty. And in this case, I would cheerfully have hanged him if the rest of you had gone along, holes in the evidence or not. I would’ve slept soundly tonight, too. But that’s why there’s more than one person sitting on this court, and I was the one who held out against hanging Citizen Major Younce last week. As long as every one of us votes his or her conscience every time, then we’ve done both the best—and the least—we can do under the circumstances.”

“You know,” Longmont said after a moment, “it’s really a pity we’re on different sides. If the politicians—especially mine—would just get the hell out of the way and let the five of us deal with it, we could hammer out a peace settlement and end this whole damned war in a week.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that, Citizen Admiral,” McKeon told her wryly. “Compared to the war, the things we’re looking at here are pretty cut and dried. At least we’ve all agreed whose rules we’re going to use as the basis for our verdicts! But when we started hammering away at each other about things like who owns which planets… well—”

He shrugged, and Longmont gave a snort of half-bitter, half-amused laughter.

“It’s not polite to go around destroying a lady’s daydreams, Commodore!”

“My commission says I’m an officer and a gentlemen, Ma’am; it never said I was a polite gentlemen!” The citizen admiral chuckled appreciatively, and McKeon grinned at her. “And however unlikely I may think it is that we could negotiate an end of the war, I’d much rather hammer away at you with words than laserheads any day, Citizen Admiral!”

“Amen to that,” Commodore Simmons said fervently, then pushed his chair back. “And given that we’ve just concluded our judicial duties for the day, I move that we adjourn, deliver our verdict and recommendations to Admiral Harrington, and then go find a nice, thick steak and a good beer. Takers?”

“Me, for one,” Longmont told him. “Assuming that an unregenerate Peep is welcome in your company, of course?”

“This particular unregenerate Peep is welcome anytime,” Simmons said graciously. “As long as she agrees to lose at darts after supper, that is!”

“Of course I’ll agree to lose,” Longmont promised. “Of course, I am an unregenerate Peep, servant of an order which you all insist is corrupt and venal.”

“Are you saying your agreement would be a lie?” Simmons demanded.

“Of course not,” the Citizen Admiral said sweetly. “I’m simply saying that despite Commodore McKeon’s rudeness where my dreams were concerned, I would never even contemplate damaging our close working relationship by overturning your concepts of proper Peep-like behavior.” She smiled. “And, of course,” she added, “the loser does get to buy the beer. Coming, Commodore?”