<div class="floatleft">(https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/812547894355427348/813571062867427328/LtJG_Winn_Antos.png)</div><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Name</strong></span>: Winn Antos<br/><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Location</strong></span>: Bridge<br/><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Content</strong></span>: Seeing what can be done<br/><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Tag | Mention</strong></span>: H'Raal<br/><hr/><br/>The Bajoran frowned as he worked on the panel.  "Communications is coming back online, Sir.  Looks like it got overloaded with the amount of messages coming in from all over the ship.  Which makes me think we might have a fault in processing, I feel like it should be able to handle that and more...but we are up again!"  He tapped a few buttons, compiling reports and figures, scanning through them.  "In terms of personnel, Sir, we're looking at...two dead," which is a lot less than he would have expected, "but 73% of the crew reports injuries.  Good news is that only 20% of those need treatment in Sickbay, according to the reporting.  Meaning once we've got people filled in and have orders, we should have most of the crew ready to do their duty."<br/><br/>It was all self reporting, for the most part, since most of the internal sensors were down.  It showed the discipline of a Starfleet crew that even in the midst of all this, everyone was reporting in and ready to do their part.  No wonder the Prophets chose these people.  Danger came right to them, punched them in the face, and they took it with a smile.<br/><br/>He shook his head, "Internal sensors are partly intact, but external are all either down or badly out of alignment.  No way to tell what's outside without stepping out there ourselves, Commander."<br/><br/>He looked over at the Catian, "What are your orders, Sir?  I can see about directing Damage Control teams from here, considering that, given these readings, they're going to be pretty busy in Engineering."