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

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/ Simulation Teaser                                                             |
/ŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻ

 "I would have thought you would have been relieved."

 Brian Aldur had to admit -- he didn't know very much about Section 31.  But,
 from what he had observed of their operatives, they did have one habit he
 found contemptible.

 They were arrogant to such offensive lengths that it almost surprised Aldur
 that Mithras himself did not reach down and snuff out their lives.

 The Captain turned away from the gymnasium's upper observation deck to
 regard Endeavour's visitor thoughtfully.  He did so with some regret --
 below, DuLac's... workout?  demonstration? was clearly reaching some kind of
 conclusion.  The display was impressive in any event.  Aldur could nearly
 imagine a column of armed and armored Knights moving in concert with the
 young Camelynian heir.  Not only that, but he felt that the observation was
 giving him a kind of insight into the troubled officer.  Turning to lean
 against the railing, Aldur put those thoughts aside for a moment.

 Lieutenant Toria Nel was Bajoran, petite, brunette, and pretty in an intense
 sort of way.  She was also an anachronism, right down to her modern Starfleet
 uniform and communicator.

 "You should be relieved, Captain," she said again, fixing him with a direct
 stare.  "Everything is proceeding exactly as it should.  There's no way you
 could have prevented the Vigilant's destruction, and the Cardassians would
 have eventually succeeded in discovering Bajor's location no matter what you
 did."  Toria had the good grace to say the last with its measure of sarcasm,
 but Aldur was not amused.  "We're even delighted that you have a Founder
 aboard.  If you can destroy yours, we're down to only one in Federation space
 that is unaccounted for."

 "And Admiral Namimby sent you back here to... what?  Comfort me?" he asked
 sourly.  He turned and approached the shorter Bajoran.  "I don't appreciate
 the fact that Section 31 feels like they can send people into the past like
 it's the next planet over, just to send a little message, Lieutenant."  It
 had been a long time since Aldur had had someone second guess his decisions,
 and he had decided after a moment's thought that he didn't like it.

 Toria had appeared on the Bridge shortly after their confrontation with the
 Cardassian vessels in a flash of sickly green light.  Both the precision of
 her arrival and the method by which it had been carried out spoke of an
 impressive technology behind it.  Aldur didn't need the readings of
 chronometric particle density on the Bridge to know that Section 31 had
 devised their own version of the Jaunt... and the fact that a ship was not
 required for their version was troubling to say the least.  It made the
 Jaunt the ultimate intelligence tool.

 "Listen, Captain," Toria said, voice turning cold.  "Admiral Namimby sent me
 back here just in case you might be feeling guilty about what happened to
 the Vigilant or to Bajor.  He didn't have to."  She took a step, approaching
 him.  "You now know that your actions haven't impacted the timeline.  I
 suggest..." her voice dripped acid sarcasm now, "that you carry out the
 remainder of your mission."

 She did not wait for a response.  Touching her combadge, there was another
 flash of green light as some kind of portal opened... then she was gone.

 Aldur stood in the observation gallery a long time, reining in his temper.
 "What price freedom?" he finally asked the empty room in a voice low with
 rage.  "What price liberty?"  He remembered the answers from nearly
 forgotten histories, but they had never seemed so apt as now.  The price
 of freedom is eternal vigilance.  The price of liberty...

 Jefferson... or was it Franklin?... had defined the latter well, Aldur
 thought.  The price of liberty is the blood of patriots and tyrants.
 Turning to leave the observation gallery, it occurred to Aldur that the
 patriots aboard Vigilant and those on Bajor had already given their blood.
 It would soon be the tyrants' turn.

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\ End Simulation Teaser                                                         |
 ŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻ

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