Astraea knew that because of her position, Thrax Sa’kat had long ago decided not to make any “inappropriate” overtures to her, and while she supposed it was meant to be respectful, she still wished it were otherwise. He had returned to Cardassia Prime from his assignment on Cardassia III, raving about a perceived threat to the shrine—to the last remaining copies of the Recitations of Oralius, the book she had sought so many years ago, that Glinn Sa’kat’s family had kept safe for generations. And to the Orb, though she knew that he did not need to worry about that now.
“Glinn Sa’kat,” she interrupted him. “I have spoken to Kutel Esad, and he insists that we will be safe here. I don’t wish for you to concern yourself so.”
“But there is unrest fast approaching on our world,” Sa’kat insisted. “The situation with Bajor is unraveling, and it is only the beginning, Astraea. The Detapa Council is gaining power, which can only mean—”
“Changes,” Astraea interrupted. “Favorable changes—you said so yourself.”
“Yes,” he sighed. “But a shift in governmental power will also mean violence.”
“Oralius will keep us safe,” she insisted.
“Astraea,” he said, “I have been thinking of the Orb…”
“The Orb of Wisdom.”
“Yes.” He hesitated. “Perhaps Kutel was right when he said it was dangerous for us to have it. We don’t need any more reason to be targeted by the Order, or anyone else. I confess, since bringing it here, I’ve not felt at peace…”
Astraea was relieved to hear him say it. “Then you will be happy to know that I have already arranged for the Orb to be transferred elsewhere, Glinn Sa’kat.”
He looked up at her, his astonishment plain. “Transferred elsewhere? What do you mean?”
“You took it with you, Glinn Sa’kat.”
He was speechless, and Astraea finished quickly.
“Your business on Cardassia III,” she told him. “The Orb was with you when you traveled. I employed Kutel Esad to help me with this errand. We…had the Orb transferred to the cargo bay of your ship, and when it was unloaded—”
“Astraea!” Sa’kat cried. “Why would you do such a thing?”
“Because,” she told him promptly, “because that Orb did not belong with us. That Orb belongs to the Bajorans, and as long as we held it, Oralius did not look favorably upon us. Kutel told me he felt unsettled by the object, and I felt it too. The shrine was not a place of peace as long as it was here. I felt instant relief as soon as it was gone.”
“But…Astraea, there is no telling what will happen to it now, the cargo of my ship was unloaded at several military ports on Cardassia III…”
“The Orb will go where it is needed,” Astraea told him, stubborn in her certainty, “and, in time, so too will the six that are still in the Order’s possession. I have seen it.”
“But…” He stopped. Thrax Sakat had never argued with the veracity of her visions, but he appeared exasperated.
“I had to do it,” she said softly. “It was what Oralius wanted, please believe me.” She couldn’t explain it beyond that. She could never adequately put words to the overwhelming urges and insights she sometimes experienced. Usually, Glinn Sa’kat seemed to accept her actions and recommendations without question; this time seemed different.
“I thought…I was doing the right thing…”
“You didn’t do the wrong thing, Glinn Sa’kat. It doesn’t matter now. Please, let’s speak no more of it.”
He nodded without looking up, then he stood. “I had better go,” he said.
She rose to her feet also, taking a step toward him. “Glinn Sa’kat, are you angry with me?”
He said nothing for a moment, and then he changed the subject.
“Astraea, I wish you would consent to go into hiding, at least until we have a better idea of what will be the outcome of the governmental upheaval.”
“No,” she told him. “I cannot leave the followers, not again.”
“The followers cannot afford to lose you.”
“The Way will never fade into obscurity, Glinn Sa’kat. I know this—with more than just a feeling. It is a truth. I do not wish to leave this place.” She said it more firmly than she had intended. “Besides,” she added, lightening her tone, “you will keep me safe.” She meant the last part to be affectionate, but he looked grave.
“Sometimes I miss the days that I was on Terok Nor,” he told her.
She felt a stab of unhappy regret, wondering if he was truly angry with her, before he went on. “From there, I had access to information from all over the Cardassian Union and beyond—systems from the Setlik to Valeria. Here, I feel much less capable of protecting you.”
She looked up, her voice trembling despite her efforts to control it. “Would you really rather be on Terok Nor, Glinn Sa’kat, than here, with…” She trailed off, and there was a moment of silence between them.
He gazed at her for a long moment, unblinking, before he stepped toward her. His hands came up from his sides, and he took her face in his hands. She scarcely dared to move, but after a single moment, the longest moment of her life, she felt her body go slack, seeming to melt against him, feeling the ache of long-unexpressed desire finally begin to ebb. He brushed his lips against hers, and she kissed him back willingly.
He broke away far too soon, but he did not take his hands away from her face. “I do wish you would listen to me more often,” he murmured.
“I will do whatever you recommend,” she told him, “but only if it means you will be with me.”
He did not reply, only embraced her once again, holding on as if he never meant to let go.
Odo answered his comm with trepidation, for the moment had come. “Odo!”Dukat was roaring. “Environmental control gone down, very likely due to yet another act of sabotage. You must double up your security at once.”
“Of course,” Odo replied. “Anything else?”
“Find Dalin Kedat and have him report to ops at once!”
Odo feigned surprise. “But Gul Dukat…Dalin Kedat is gone. I put him on the penal ship following his arrest, and I believe it has already left the station.”
Dukat looked quite flabbergasted. “And exactly what are we to do without a chief of engineering? You know those fools on his staff will squabble among themselves for an hour before even getting started!”
“Dalin Trakad has already put in for a replacement, sir, but he tells me it is standard procedure for there to be an interim period of at least three days before—”
“Three days!”
“That’s what I was told. You can speak to Dalin Trakad further on the matter. I consulted fully with him, and we were simply following…”
“Procedure, of course you were. It didn’t occur to you that we might be forced to bend the rules in the case of our chief of engineering. We can scarcely function without Kedat!”
“I…wasn’t aware of that, sir. I only knew that procedure clearly states—”
“Just…be sure to double up security as I asked. Immediately!”He signed off abruptly.
Odo stood, for there was a second part to his role in this mission. He left his office without bothering to answer Dukat’s call for more security, and headed to Quark’s.
“Odo!” Quark exclaimed as the shape-shifter entered his establishment. “To what do I owe…?”
“Save it, Quark. I need to speak with you in private.”
Quark gestured to his customer, a long-faced dal. “All right. Just let me just take care of—”
“We can do it at security, if you’d prefer,” Odo said sharply.
“No, no, there’s no need for us to leave the premises. Come into my office.” The Ferengi gestured to a room behind the bar, and Odo followed him, pretending not to notice as Quark hurriedly tried to hide a small crate under the counter. Odo had no time to address it now.
“Quark,” Odo said, once they were out of reasonable earshot of anyone at the bar. “I need you to do something for me.”
The Ferengi looked reluctant, but Odo went on.