Star Trek: Terok Nor 03: Dawn of the Eagles by S.D. Perry Read Free Book Online Page A

it has come to my attention that you’re…not in full agreement with the direction the military government has begun to take in the past few decades.” He looked at her uneasily.
    Natima narrowed her eyes, reflexively searching for traps. “Everyone has their own ideas about the way things ought to be run,” she said ambiguously, and took a larger sip of her drink.
    “Yes, I suppose it’s true, though most decline to discuss it.”
    “Certainly in a place as public as this one,” she said, lowering her voice slightly.
    “So…you would be more comfortable if we discussed this topic elsewhere?”
    Natima considered it. What was he asking her, exactly? Did Russol’s dissent go deeper than mere complaints coming off the front lines? She wasn’t sure how to respond, but some string of curiosity deep in her mind had been plucked, and she could not pretend she did not hear the humming.
    “It…it depends,” she said, again ambiguous. What might she be getting herself into?
    “Natima, I’ve done quite a bit of checking up on you, and I believe I can trust you,” he said, looking into her eyes. “I’ve reviewed the stories you’ve done in the past, and though it was often subtle, I’ve definitely detected a…tone from you, and from your stories. I feel as though a person like you…could be useful in what I am trying to do.”
    Natima swallowed before answering, trying to keep her voice indifferent. “This is starting to seem a little dangerous,” she said airily, and finished her drink.
    “It is dangerous,” Russol admitted. “You and I both know that Central Command has eyes and ears everywhere. They probably already know what I’m up to. If they don’t, then it’s a given that the Obsidian Order does.”
    Natima wrinkled her nose at what seemed to be a proclamation of defeat. “Then why are you pursuing…whatever it is you’re pursuing, Glinn Russol?”
    “Because I love Cardassia,” he replied without hesitation. “And I feel that preservation of her most basic ideals is worth the risk of execution. I don’t have a family, and neither do you. I feel that my first obligation is to Cardassia. I wonder, Natima, if you might feel similarly?”
    A man came around to their table to ask after their order, and Natima did not hesitate to request another kanar . Russol’s raised eyeridge made her smile. “I think I’ve developed a taste for it,” she said, indicating the empty glass in her hands.
    Russol watched her, waited, and she made her decision.
    “I agree that this topic might be best discussed elsewhere. Where and when would you like to meet?” The words rang slightly in her ears as she spoke them. If Russol was indeed trying to trick her, then she had probably just implicated herself. But she studied his gaze once more, and felt assured that he was not. Either that, or he was in the Order. She knew their agents trained to be as convincingly sincere as Russol was now being.
    “I have a few friends I think you might be interested in meeting,” Russol told her. “I am hoping that they will benefit as much from the encounter as you will.”
    The steward brought Natima her second drink, and this time, she downed it in a single draught.

    Mora Pol was clearing up his desk for the night—a mere formality, but one that gave him some sense that he still maintained a shred of control over his own life. He felt overwhelmed by despair this evening—not a new sensation for him, though it was especially crushing tonight. The system he had been working on for over six years was finally complete. It was the sort of thing that should have given any scientist some measure of triumph, but not for Doctor Mora—for the system in question was a weapon, to be used against his own people.
    Collaborator. Murderer.
    He pushed the thoughts away and tapped off the lights in his laboratory, a space he shared with the Cardassian scientist with whom he had been working these past six and a half years. He headed