Still seething, but on a considerably lower level, Cloud pondered. It _wasn’t_ murder—nobody would or could call it that. “Extermination” would be more like it—or “justifiable germicide.” She was probably right on the rest of it, too. Even though he was, by virtue of being the captain of the _Vortex Blaster I_, an officer of the Patrol—strictly speaking a commander, not a captain—there wasn’t a thing in the world he could do about it. Nadine had been keeping Vesta posted; and the latter, recovering miraculously her wonted spirit and with tail again aloft, was passing the good news along to the others. “Don’t get _too_ cocky, sister!” Tommie advised her sharply. “Not yet, anyway.” “Huh?” Vesta’s tail dropped to half-mast. “Why not?” “You just said she pleaded guilty for all of us to unauthorized use of Patrol equipment. For what we really did that’s certainly a featherweight plea—if I ever get into a real jam I certainly want her for my lawyer—but he can make it plenty tough for us if he wants to.” “I got a question to ask, boss,” Thlaskin put in, before Cloud said anything. “You got a license to be sore as hell, no argument about that, but I ask you—are you sore mostly because we took the stuff or because we didn’t let you in on it? We _couldn’t_ do that, boss, and you know why.” Cloud did know why. The pilot had put his finger right on the sore spot, and the Blaster was honest enough to admit it. “That’s it, I guess.” He grinned wryly. Tommie, who had been whispering to Vesta, asked: “You got back here while we were still sucking juice, didn’t you?” “Yes, and as Nadine will undoubtedly point out if I don’t, that fact makes me an accomplice for not pulling the switches on you. So, already being an accessory during and after the fact, I may as well go the route. If any of us gets hauled up, we all do.” “No fear of that,” Tommie assured him. “One thing Tomingans are good at is keeping their mouths shut. Maluleme and Vesta will spill everything they know, and brag about it, sooner or later,” the Vegian did not relish translating this passage, but she did so, and accurately, nevertheless, “but that won’t do any harm. It’s _you_ that’s in the driver’s seat. You could’ve nailed us all to the cross if you liked, and I for one didn’t expect to get off easy. Thanks. I’ll remember this. So will everybody else who knows. You’re washing me out, of course?” “Not unless you want to stay here on Tominga. You’re a good engineer, and I can’t picture this as happening again, can you?” “Hardly. I like this better than stationary work. Thanks again, chief. My brother wants to thank you, too.” After the sincerely grateful and appreciative Tomingan had gone, Cloud said: