Star Trek: Terok Nor 03: Dawn of the Eagles Read Online Free

dictated the tenets of the faith both in ancient and modern times, before the faith was forced to go underground. Astraea did not know if Cardassian officials were familiar with the title, but she thought it best not to take any chances. It was a well-known secret that the Oralians of past generations had been systematically exterminated by Central Command. The Way was still popularly perceived as a threat to modern Cardassian sensibilities, but Astraea knew better. She believed that the Way would be essential in rebuilding Cardassian civilization someday, for she had foreseen it—she could still see it, and often did, in her dreams. The near-total destruction of Cardassia Prime.
    “Not a vision,” she told him. “At least, not about the Order.”
    The soldier nodded, looked grave for a moment. “The Order can’t decipher the encryption that I have used. Our friend has assured me of that.”
    She knew that he was sure of his “friend’s” loyalty, and she didn’t doubt that there was at least one Obsidian Order shadow who walked the Way, whose allegiance to Oralius was greater than his allegiance to Enabran Tain, even though the aging head of the Obsidian Order inspired a fierce loyalty in many of his agents. Still, the Order troubled her—all Cardassians had a healthy respect for the Obsidian Order, and a person in Astraea’s position would naturally fear them more than the average citizen.
    “But you have seen something, then,” the soldier deduced.
    “Yes,” she confirmed, thinking upon her recent dreams. “A Bajoran. A religious man. I don’t know his name, but I have a picture of where he might be. It is not far from the place where I experienced my first visions of Bajor…”
    “Kendra,” the soldier said.
    “As you say.” Astraea knew nothing of Bajoran geography, only what she saw in her visions.
    “What have you foreseen regarding this man?”
    She paused, trying to put into words the things she had sensed about the Bajoran. She was often frustrated by the cryptic “awarenesses” she experienced; even after years of working to cultivate the ability, her impressions were regularly less than enlightening. But then, the Way was a path, not a goal; Oralius taught that many truths were subjective. It was a lesson she continued to struggle with.
    “Cardassia needs him. He will bring peace between the two worlds someday, though I don’t know when it will happen.” He seemed to be waiting for more, and she pursed her lips. “That is all,” she told him. “I’m sorry.”
    The soldier nodded, patiently accepting the fragmentary nature of her prophecies. “You must tell me if you see anything more.”
    “Of course,” she said. “Now. What do you have to tell me, Glinn Sa’kat?” It was clear from his expression that he had information. More often than not, his transmissions bore news that frightened her. While the two shared a mutual affection that sometimes seemed to border on intimate, at least for her, he did not call her without serious motive. Her pleasure at seeing him was always tarnished by what he had to say.
    “Our friend tells me that the agent who has been assigned to seek out the Oralians has finally found the object that you hid at the Ministry of Science.”
    Astraea felt her heart sink. While she believed that the so-called Orb would remain silent for anyone who was unworthy, she also feared that whoever wielded it would undeniably have access to a great source of power, a means of controlling others who sought it. If the Obsidian Order took hold, the Orb would be impossible to recover.
    “It will reveal nothing for them,” she said with flickering certainty.
    “Nothing…except perhaps your whereabouts,” the soldier said softly. “The object’s shipping container had a digital log, a log that clearly recorded the identification numbers of all who came in contact with it during its stay at the Ministry of Science. Miras Vara was the last person known to have handled