U.S.S. Coronado, NCC-97901

/||\ ----------------------------------------
/ || \ UCIP Starfleet Command, Fifth Fleet
/ || \ U.S.S. Coronado, NCC-97901
.-/ || \-. Captain Tebrun Lora Kor, Commanding
./ || \. ----------------------------------------
.-_-. || .-_-. Simulation Teaser
.-_ \||/ _-. -[ SD 240009.04 ]-

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/ Simulation Teaser |
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OOC comments: Hi folks. :) Tomorrow's sim will be a "prelude" sim, which I
do from time to time when I'm not exactly sure how many people are going to
show. ;) Tomorrow is the American Labor Day holiday and while I don't
*think* we'll be shy many people, just in case, I'm going to run a rather
relaxed little sim. Knowledge of what happens in this sim will not be
necessary to follow the rest of the plot of "Where You Can't Escape."

So, hopefully, I'll see you there, but if you can't make it, consider
yourself as having an announced absense thanks to the holiday. ;)

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Coronado stood at 20,000 kilometers from Starbase 247. At present, the base
was a hive of activity and the number of ships stationed there simply made
internal docking of the frigate an impossibility. Captain Tebrun Lora Kor
didn't mind a bit -- the view from his Ready Room of the Starbase slowly
circling the silver-blue world of Archer IV, itself circling its yellow
star, was simply spectacular.

Inspection and repairs after the recent run-in with the alien crystal-eating
virus were complete, and Coro's health had been confirmed by Starbase
engineers, much to Lieutenant Oswald's annoyed amusement ("As if they could
find problems that I couldn't," she'd been heard to sniff at one point).
Crew transfers were more or less complete, and Coro was holding position
only to allow U.S.S. Erasmus to catch up with her. Coro would be escorting
Erasmus, an Ambassador class starship, to Starbase 742 at slipstream
velocity.

Lora Kor's introspection was interrupted by the doorbell. He turned and
called "Enter!"

Mr. Dalton walked in, his expression unreadable. "You wanted to see me,
Captain?" he asked, scanning the Captain's desk. On it was a large, bright
yellow Starfleet cargo transfer case, about one meter long by a half-meter
wide by a half-meter tall with a locking lid.

The Captain nodded. "Yes, Mr. Dalton, have a seat." Lora Kor himself
dropped into the chair behind his desk and turned on a PADD. "I've had a
busy couple of days, talking to various Federation and Starfleet sources
about your... demands. I've got some answers for you, as a matter of fact.
Let's deal with the straight facts of the matter first, shall we?"

Dalton nodded impassively, settling himself back in his chair.

"Lovely," the Captain said, accessing the PADD. "First off, as to the
matter of the wedding reception of Lieutenants TPrax and Ian... it seems
that any agreements you made in that matter were made with a mirror universe
double of Commander Bentall. As a result, since the mirror double was not a
member of Starfleet, it seems likely that any claims you made in that regard
would spend the next several years in assorted Federation appeals courts."

Dalton's expression barely changed, growing a bit harder and he nodded for
the Captain to go on.

"As to the matter of the loss of material during the recent... incident..."
The Captain paused and looked up. "As you are no doubt aware, when you
signed on to own a Starfleet concession, you also agreed that any risk or
obligation of loss was your responsibility. Starfleet has bases and
starships all over known space, and sometimes, bad things happen to them."
Lora Kor set the PADD down and regarded Dalton frankly. "Even Starbase One,
in orbit of Earth, has twice been severely damaged. There are local
merchants on that base that signed the same agreement you did when they
built or operated concessions there."

Dalton's voice when he responded was tight and angry. "I see," he said,
standing. "Well, since you've made it clear that I have no rights in this
matter, I'll be goi--"

"Sit down, Mr. Dalton." The Captain's voice was suddenly
uncharacteristically commanding. Used to the rather fatherly tone that Lora
Kor affected under normal situations, Dalton was a bit uncertain for a
moment. Finally, he again sat, and crossed his arms. "I wasn't finished
yet, Doctor." The Captain picked up the PADD again.

"Fortunately for you, I am not... unsympathetic to your losses. I also, as
I mentioned earlier, honor my agreements. As a result, I have interceded on
your behalf with certain... agencies." Standing up and turning off the
PADD, he removed the cover from the cargo transfer case and removed a wine
bottle.

"For instance," the Captain said, "the Zadarian people have not forgotten
about you. I contacted the new ruling council of New Zadar about your
economic... plight..." the Captain continued, the corner of his mouth
curling slightly, "and they remember well that it was your work that brought
several thousand more of the Zadarians to safety than would have otherwise
been the case. They were also, ironically enough, very touched that you
kept a bottle of their wine as a momento." The Captain's expression turned
positively amused. "As a result, they have asked me to give you this..."
The Captain handed Dalton the bottle. "You'll find it's a near-identical
duplicate of the bottle of Zadarian spring wine that you lost... in the new
date, vintage 1 BD, before the destruction of Zadar. They've also sent you
a full case of the 1 AD vintage... the first spring wine made on New Zadar.
Only 640 bottles. I'm told it has a distinctive flavor. It brings to mind
old friends, old memories... and bitter tears. Should become quite valuable
in time." The Captain nudged the cargo transfer case in Dalton's direction.

Dalton looked in the case, then looked at the Captain, then nodded slowly.

"I trust you'll keep these bottles in a somewhat safer location than aboard
Coronado... Doctor," the Captain said. "In addition, it turns out that the
Commanding Officer of any Starfleet vessel has significant... discretion,
when assigning development rights to any potentially useful discovery. The
Dalton virus, for instance," the Captain said, watching Dalton with an
amused look.

"The Dalton virus!?" Dalton asked, looking highly insulted.

"You'll excuse me if I named it in your honor," the Captain said, barely
controlling his amusement, "as it was you who... discovered it." Dalton
started to become angry again, but stopped cold when he heard the next thing
the Captain said. "I've interceded on your behalf with Starfleet Command,
and they have agreed to give you the economic development rights to this
discovery... IF you're inclined to drop your Starfleet reserve status, and
become a full member of Starfleet... with all that implies. You wouldn't
even have to give up Seventh Heaven."

The Captain leaned back, looking extremely pleased with himself. "What say
you, Doctor?" he asked.

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Crew Roster:
Commanding Officer: Capt. Tebrun Lora Kor (Jester)
Executive Officer: Cmdr. Jarod Bentall (Alffred)
Marine Commandant: LCol. Jeremy Ironside (Fraser)
Squadron Leader: 2Lt. Thomas Wayne (Masters)
Platoon Leader: Maj. MayTa (MayTa)
Platoon Leader: 2Lt. Darius tr'Onto (Ragarok)
Marine Fighter Technician: Lt. (JG) Zunite Oswald (Sonya)
Chief Tactical: Lt. William Daren (Daren)
Assistant Tactical: Lt. (JG) Aurel Ian (Aurelian)
Chief Flight Operations: LCdr. Fornan Dejat (McC)
Chief Science Officer: Cmdr. Velorna Tal (Tinky)
Assistant Science Officer: Ens. Raynar Whiilain (Whiilain)
Chief Medical Officer: Lt. Dalton (Heiwa)

On Leave of Absense:
Command Liaison Interface: Savant / EMH / EEH (Mouse)
Assistant Engineer: Cdt. Skylooker Aramis (Lewis_Sharp)

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Ross Glenn aka Jester
Captain Tebrun Lora Kor, U.S.S. Coronado, NCC-97901
http://www.jestertrek.com/coro2400/
Deputy Fifth ("Epsilon") Fleet Commander