U.S.S. Coronado, NCC-97901

/||\ ----------------------------------------------
/ || \ UCIP Starfleet Command, Eighth Fleet
/ || \ U.S.S. Coronado, NCC-97901
.-/ || \-. Fleet Captain Tebrun Lora Kor, Commanding
./ || \. ----------------------------------------------
.-_-. || .-_-. Simulation Teaser
-_ \||/ _-. -[ SD 240202.18 ]-

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"Those shields were the only thing I wasn't expecting," Ensign Noe Bodee
said after taking a long drink from her ale. "I was on Coro's Bridge at the
time, and when those Camelynian ships showed up, my first thought was,
'rescue!'," she said. "But my second thought was, 'the poor bastards --
those big Camelynian ships are dead, dead, dead.' I thought the Pfhor would
have a field day chopping them up. But I saw King DuLac after the fight was
over, and other than one big gash through his forward launch bays, he took
six or seven full power hits from those beams with no damage!"

Lt. Commander Allison Bodee nodded. The two women -- sisters, and one of
three sets of siblings that made the trip to M64 together -- sat together in
Seventh Heaven, Coronado's largest crew lounge. The battle for I032 had
been over for eighteen hours, and the allied ships were preparing to break
up and continue with the escort of ships to the Artemis system. The crews
of the various ships were taking the opportunity to mingle before that
happened. Allison was eight years older than Noe and served as the Exec and
Tactical officer aboard Blackrazor, Task Group 5.4's captured Rihannsu
escort destroyer.

"Apparently, the Camelynians have been waiting to spring *that* little
surprise on the Pfhor for a few weeks," Allison said. "Whomever said that
the Camelynians think false matter is the greatest thing since genetic
engineering wasn't lying. Those shields are false matter."

"But I thought that was impossible!" Noe objected, shaking her head.
"Everybody's been saying that it requires too much power to shield anything
the size of a starship." She took a drink, then continued, still shaking
her head. "We can't even build personal false matter shields -- the energy
requirements, combined with the mass of the replicators, means that only
Vulcans or Klingons are strong enough to carry the equipment."

Allison nodded, but took a long sip of her own ale before answering. "The
very objection that I brought up to Duchess Otaria aboard Queen Monique
DuLac," she said a moment later. "I wish I could remember her exact speech
in response, but it went roughly like this." Allison stood up, arching her
back and neck just so. Noe grinned -- Allison was so good at this, and
often took the same pose when slyly mocking the self-important.

"Hast thou not encountered the foul miscreants of the Borg Collective, my
Lady?" Allison said, in a fair approximation of the elborate Camelynian
speech and accent, still drawn up in a very Camelynian pose. "Some number
of this uncouth breed hath fallen into thy hands, have they not, rescued
from the foul clutches of the misshapen Queen of the Borg?" Allison was
drawing attention now, and several others in the lounge turned to watch the
Commander's performance, grinning openly. "These brought with them certain
knowledge of shielding oneself from harm, focusing their foul shields only
where the enemy dost seek to do them harm..."

Noe gasped. In retrospect, it was obvious. "Of course!" she said. "Their
computers track the inbound trajectory of the beam, calculate the impact
point..."

Allison dropped the pose and nodded, a bit embarrassed at the sardonic
clapping her performance had gained her. She dropped back into her chair.
"That's right. The computer only projects the false matter shield when and
where it's needed, at the maximum range out from the ship, and keeps
deflecting the beam all the way in. The Pfhor weapons are particle beams at
their heart -- matter-based weapons. False matter can therefore push the
beam away. If it can deflect it completely, the shielded ship takes no
damage. If the computers aren't fast enough or you start losing power to
the false matter generators..." Allison stopped to take another sip of her
ale, and Noe finished the thought.

"You get one of those gashes that the King earned for himself," the Ensign
said. Allison nodded.

"Or it punches through the hull, in the extreme case," the older sister
said, waving one hand seemingly to indicate all of Coronado.

Noe shuddered. The memory of Coro's spearing was still fresh in many
people's minds. "Sooooo... what're the chances that the Camelynians will
share this technology with their poor Starfleet brethren?" she asked,
grinning.

Allison chuckled and signalled one of the nearby staff for a refill.
"Believe it or not, that was the very *next* question I asked the
Duchess..."

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Crew Roster:
Commanding Officer: FCapt. Tebrun Lora Kor (Jester)
Executive Officer: Cmdr. William Daren (Daren)
Marine Commandant: Col. Jeremy Ironside (Fraser)
Command Liaison Interface: Cmdr. Savant (Savant)
Chief of Operations: Cmdr. Olme Tlaloco (Tlaloco)
Chief Tactical Officer: LCdr. Sieven Drexler (Brad)
Assistant Tactical: Lt. Kyle Marcy (Marcy)
Chief Flight Operations: Lt. JG Ananda Wilk (Baralu)
Intelligence Officer: Lt. Kariasa Ma'Aru (Kari)
Chief Science Officer: Lt. JG Kathleen Hammond (Kath)
Company Commander: 1Lt. Jacob Prescot (Shadow-FjP)
Squadron Leader: LCol. Thomas Wayne (Masters)
Wing Leader: 1Lt. Craig Serrold (Aggie)
Chief Engineer: Cmdr. Zunite Oswald (Sonya)
Assistant Engineer: LCdr. Jack C. Farley (CCC)
Assistant Engineer: Lt. Aramis Skylooker (Skylooker)
Systems Specialist: Lt. JG Caring-Thoughts (Alffred)
Chief Medical Officer: Lt. JG Jason Thompson (Thompson)
Civilian: Alados ha-Soron (McC)

On Extended Leave of Absense:
Wing Leader: 2Lt. Andrew Stylus (JadeFalcon)

Positions Available:
None!

----------
Ross Glenn aka Jester
Fleet Captain Tebrun Lora Kor, U.S.S. Coronado, NCC-97901
http://www.jestertrek.com/coro2400/