/||\ ----------------------------------------
/ || \ UCIP Starfleet Command, Fourth Fleet
/ || \ U.S.S. Coronado, NCC-97901
.-/ || \-. Commander Tebrun Lora, Commanding
./ || \. ----------------------------------------
.-_-. || .-_-. Simulation Teaser
.-_ \||/ _-. -[ SD 239909.27 ]-
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/ Simulation Teaser |
/ŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻ
Personal Log, Tebrun Kor
Stardate 239909.27
Ninety-two days.
That's my current length of service as the U.S.S. Coronado's Commanding
Officer.
During that time, we've launched our starship in defiance of Starfleet
orders, only to learn that those orders were given by men and women running
Starfleet as if it were their own personal empire.
We have responded to a distress call from a scientific colony in the Zadar
system, only to discover a new potential adversary for the Federation -- a
race that uses neutronium as weapons. A race that kills entire sentient
peoples as we might swat an annoying insect. A race that we have learned
almost nothing about, other than their hatred.
We fled the Zadar system with fewer than 150,000 survivors of that
cataclysm -- an entire class M planet crushed to debris in our wake. Those
thousands owe Coronado their lives... but could we have done better? Was
there a way of saving the entire planet that I did not see?
Seeking the Killers of Zadar, we found only death for one of our own.
Corporal Brian Freeman, slain when he and his entire Spectre starfighter
were converted into antimatter by a Killer trap. That trap, the Iju
system, a massive neutronium ring structure being used as a method of
transportation... or covert surveillance. The system has been quarantined,
but that can hardly bring comfort to Freeman's parents.
Others also seek the Killers -- the Moltar fly still, 600 years from the
Zendi system, their planet destroyed by insect-like conquerors, yet another
unknown race we have discovered, but learned nothing about. I have seen the
destroyers of the Moltar civilization: three of them are encased in stasis
fields in our science labs. Three meters high, and looking nothing so much
as giant preying mantises, even the worldly Mr. Dalton fears them.
Ninety-two days. It seems like an entire lifetime, and yet in the sweep of
my life, it is as nothing.
And nothing is what I feel I've accomplished as Coronado's Commanding
Officer.
END LOG.
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\ End Simulation Teaser |
ŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻŻ
Crew Roster:
Commanding Officer: Cmdr. Tebrun Lora (Jester)
Executive Officer: LCdr. Velorna Tal (Ol Army)
Marine Commandant: LMaj. Jeremy Ironside (Fraser)
Chief Tactical: Lt. Sieven Drexler (Garstini)
Assistant Tactical: Ens. Timothy Bruce (Phoenix)
Chief Flight Operations: Lt. (JG) Fornan Dejat (Ryan)
Chief Engineer: Lt. Jarod Bentall (Alffred)
Assistant Engineer: Ens. Titan (Eric)
Chief Science: Lt. Traqzis Trq (Nephy)
Assistant Science: Cdt. Zunite Oswald (Sonya)
Bartender: Dalton (Heiwa)
Positions Available:
Company Commander Alfa: Available ()
Squadron Leader: Available ()
Chief Medical: Available ()
On Leave of Absense:
Command Liaison Interface: Savant (Mouse)
----------
Ross Glenn aka Jester
Commander Tebrun Lora, U.S.S. Coronado, NCC-97901
http://www.ussrenegade.com/coro2400/