► Eric looked up as the Marines admitted their visitors to the conference room, eyes settling on the man he’d met in the admiral’s office only a few weeks earlier.

“Ah, Captain Passer. It’s good to see you’re still in one piece.” Eric got to his feet and crossed the room, offering his hand.

Morgan Passer grasped it in return. “Thank you, Commodore.”

“Please, Eric will do here. I have to say, you stepped in it just about as deep as I did on my first mission.”

“Let’s hope not,” Morgan said forcefully. “We lost eighteen people on that moon. I would rather keep it at that.”

Eric nodded seriously. “Yes, we can but hope. Still, you accounted well for yourselves.”

“I have good people.”

“I know the feeling,” Eric agreed with a smile. “Well, let’s be about it, then, shall we?”

Morgan agreed, taking a seat.

“I reviewed your report, of course,” Eric said. “As has the admiralty. We’ll get you patched up and good to return to Earth. There’s a dry dock waiting for you there.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Not going to take credit for that.” Eric laughed softly. “As long as you haven’t compromised the hull too badly, or fractured the ship’s spine, they’ll fix you up good as new. I have to say, intentionally popping a couple antimatter bottles? That was risky, Captain.”

“No more than letting that goop eat my ship,” Morgan said with feeling.

Eric frowned, knowing well enough the unpleasant feeling of seeing something actually eat your vessel.

“True,” he said. He really didn’t want to get into his thoughts on loosing antimatter on board one’s own ship, as it would only cloud matters. “We’ve discussed the . . . data you retrieved. Did you bring it?”

Morgan nodded, opening a case on the table. He took the glowing gem from within and passed it to the commodore.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Eric asked, turning the jewel over. He recognized the design from his interactions on Ranquil. “And nearly identical to Priminae long-term data storage. Our optical interface should be able to read it. Are you certain of what it contains?”

“Some of it. Doctor Palin was certain, at least.”

“Palin.” Eric smiled, remembering the irascible yet brilliant linguist. “You’re lucky to have him.”

“Some of my officers would disagree,” Morgan said with the hint of a smile, “but he did pull some rather impressive tricks out of his . . . hat.”

“Yes, well, he does that,” Eric said, setting the gem on the reader and waiting for a response. “Interface is compatible. It’s Priminae technology . . . or a precursor, I suppose. They haven’t changed their technology in millennia.”

“I still find that hard to believe,” Morgan said.

“We all do. Huh. It’s an old format, but readable. Here we go . . .”