/||\        -----------------------------------------
       / || \            Starfleet Command, Second Fleet
      /  ||  \             U.S.S. Coronado,  NCC-63100
   .-/   ||   \-.        Captain Brian Aldur, Commanding
   ./    ||    \.   -----------------------------------------
   .-_-. || .-_-.              Simulation Teaser
   .-_  \||/  _-.

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/ Simulation Teaser                                                          |
/ŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻ

 The Coronado was proceeding just as planned, moving at warp speed
 through Cardassian space, slowly growing ever nearer to Valo sector.  The
 frigate was approaching the prearranged meeting point.  All was well;
 everything was going according to plan.  The course of events couldn't have
 run more perfectly... for two financial partners in a time of war, that is.

 "Federation Vessel sighted on direct heading for Valo Sector."

 "Designation?"

 "Starfleet registry number matches U.S.S. Coronado."

 "Establish communications link."

 Red Suit blinked and adjusted himself in the battle bridge's command
 chair, trying to look more vigilant than relaxed.  The holo-emitters
 flickered to life before him and the comparatively small form of Orrain,
 the Vorta overseeing the "escort" of the Coronado, materialized in the tank.

 "Greetings, Orrain.  It's a pleasure to..." began the crimson-attired
 human, trying to open a friendly discourse as he rose from the chair.

 "Have you secured the vessel?" came Orrain's harsh, no-nonsense reply.

 The sleek-looking businessman grimaced and cooled his tone quickly
 before answering...  "I have.  It was almost too easy, but I anticipate the
 crew will attempt to disturb my control of this vessel with a combined
 assault of technological prowess and physical violence before long.  I have,
 of course, accordingly forseen this and taken precautions, and will
 endeavour to make it clear that..."

 "We should board the ship and secure its personnel.  Eliminate any risk
 of unforseen complications interfering with our schedule." came the voice of
 a Jem'Hadar soldier, not shown in the holographic tank.

 "That won't be necessary," explained Red Suit, "I don't want these
 people hurt.  You remember the trade I negotiated with your superiors...  The
 ship is to arrive at Valo intact, with as few casualties as possible.  I'll
 come aboard your station there to complete the transaction.  In the meantime,
 this ship is..."

 "A danger to the security of the Dominion and Cardassia."  Interrupted
 Orrain, pointing a scalding index finger at his "ally."  "You do realize, we
 could simply abduct you and your devices from the ship and dispose of it
 once and for all right here.  We would have what we want and the risks would
 be eliminated, and therefore acceptable."

 "Now, now, Orrain," retorted Red Suit, "let's not bicker over the
 details.  The contract has been signed and sealed.  It's a done deal."

 And as if to punctuate that sentence, the Coronado's phasers lashed out
 and sliced through the secondary hull of the lead Jem'Hadar fighter
 approaching the Coronado.

 As Orrain regained his footing he looked unnerved, his gaze surveying a
 bridge unseen by Red Suit's cold visage.  "I thought you said you had
 complete control of the vess..." came the Vorta's annoyed query, although
 the smile slowly spreading across the human's lips quickly shocked him into
 realization.

 "Now then, Vorta," spoke Red Suit as a cold steely edge began to rise
 in his voice, "I trust you won't be testing my control of this vessel.  You
 will also not bother to insult my intellect by attempting to undermine me
 with further attempts to sabotage our deal."

 "Shrewd...  I would have thought..."  This time, it was the Vorta who
 was interrupted.

 "You will assume your escort duties and take your place as this
 vessel's honor guard." ordered the new aggressor, his serpentine cane aimed
 perfectly between the Vorta's eyes.  "I haven't spent the past decade
 dealing with hostile aliens in total ignorance and I have NEVER negotiated
 with ones assigned to serve me."

 Before the Dominion pawn could even contemplate responding, the
 communications were cut off from the Coronado's end.

 "Amateurs." huffed an irate Red Suit, returning to his private
 command center.

\____________________________________________________________________________
\ End Simulation Teaser                                                      |
 ŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻ

----------
Ross Glenn aka Jester
Captain Brian Aldur, U.S.S. Coronado, NCC-63100
http://www.ussrenegade.com/coro2400/