Vice Admiral Omohundro picks up a gavel lying beside his right hand and raises it to a height of 16.5 centimeters above the table. "This hearing is adjourned."

The gavel came down sharply on the table, and Pheylan Cavanagh breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

It was over.

"There we go," Admiral Rudzinski murmured from beside him as they stood up. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Pheylan smiled lopsidedly. "No, sir. Hardly even worth coming in for."

The admiral smiled wryly in return, then sobered. "You realize, of course, that this is hardly a triumph for any of them. They've escaped prison sentences so that they can be sent to the front lines of a war."

"That's where they should be, sir," Pheylan reminded him quietly. "We're Peacekeepers. That's our job."

And then Aric was there in front of him, trying hard not to grin and not succeeding all that well. "Well, that's over," he said, holding out a hand. "Thanks, Pheylan, for testifying for us."

Pheylan brushed past the outstretched hand and enveloped his older brother in a brief bear hug. "I think most of the debt is still on my side of the ledger," he reminded Aric as he stepped back again. "What are you going to do now?"

Aric grimaced. "I'm going to get the fueler released from impoundment and try to track Father down."

"Still no word from him?" Pheylan asked.

"No," Aric said. "I finally got a chance to talk to Captain Teva, though. It turns out Dad deliberately ordered him and the Cavatina away from Mra-mig about two and a half weeks ago."

"Yes, I heard he'd been on Mra-mig," Rudzinski said. "What was he doing there?"

"Looking for information about the Zhirrzh that might help us find Pheylan," Aric told him. "That 'Conquerors Without Reason' title we've been using apparently originated from some Mrach legend."