<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>: Everything's fine and then it's really, really not.<br/><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Tag | Mention</strong></span>: H'Raal, Nissillia, Riak, Sickbay | Captain Galvan, Commander Mara<br/><hr/><br/>Antos nodded at the Andorian's comment, "I'd say that I was, but a lot of those who were in the Resistance would say I wasn't.  My family were merchants and were off-world when the Cardassians attacked and conquered Bajor.  Well before I was born.  We were better off than a lot of Bajorans who fled, and the family spent it's wealth trying to help our refugees but also in smuggling weapons and material to the Resistance."  He shrugged and grinned, "Shouldn't go into my life story in the middle of a stand off, huh?  Let's grab a drink and we can talk about it later if you want."<br/><br/>He was getting data on the missile launchers.  The launch velocity would be high but still sub-luminous.  Those warheads were something else though.  They were packing a lot of power.  Still not normally something that would threaten a Federation starship except that there were so many of the damn things.  He decided to tighten in to determine the specific nuclear material they were using when his sensor panel lit up.  Science would be getting more detailed information, but the result was the same, "Captain!  We've got a gravity well forming-all around us!  It's-"  The ship shuddered and he was thrown back against the wall.<br/><br/>Red alert sounded and the Captain was yelling for the helm to get them to safety but the ship just bucked and jerked.  Antos cried out as he was thrown forward hard and was slammed over his own console, dropping prone behind it as the shaking continued.  He hit the deck hard and then everything went black.<br/><br/><hr/><br/><em>"You should stay here."  Tahna Celes was pretty, all the prettier against the stark bad lands that had once been a verdant forest before the Cardassian Occupation.  Her tawny hair was just starting to grow out from the cut she'd worn during her time in the Bajoran Resistance.  "We need talented people like you, Antos."  She stepped away from him and spread her arms, "I mean...just look at this.  This used to be one of the oldest virgin forests for 200 light years in any direction, and now it's gone.  There's so much to restore and rebuild...and so many people like you are coming home to do that."  She turned on him.  "Why aren't you?"<br/><br/>His hair was longer than it was now as Winn Antos shook his head, "It's not like I'm a botanist or a forester, you know," he said with a faint smile.<br/><br/>"That smart mouth of yours," she grimaced but there was a hint of fondness in her eyes.  "You know what I mean.  You're bright, you're talented, you could contribute to the rebuilding.  Instead you want to go and...fly around with the Federation?  The people who did nothing to help us?"<br/><br/>"They're helping us now," he disagreed, "and they spent more than a few resources helping some of our refugees."<br/><br/>"When they got guilted into it, or when it was politically safe for them," she spat.  "You're dodging the issue.  You should stay and help us, not them."<br/><br/>"Celes, don't you see?"  He turned and pointed up into the sky.  It was daytime, so the stars couldn't be seen.  "Right there.  That's where the Celestial Temple appeared.  Where a Federation officer spoke to the Prophets are returned as their Emissary.  The Prophets have chosen the Federation as much as they chose us!  I have to join them, it's the will of the Prophets."<br/><br/>She threw her hands up in the air, "Ugh, this religious crap again!  The Prophets didn't do a damn thing for us during the Occupation, but you're going to listen to them now and abandon Bajor?"  Then she turned around, "I expected too much of you.  You weren't born on Bajor.  You didn't suffer here during the Occupation.  You didn't fight in the Resistance.  You may be a Bajoran by biology...but not in any way that matters."<br/><br/>He was going to answer her, talk about his faith in the Prophets, of the smuggling he was a part of, of the scars he had from taking risks to supply the Resistance, but she was sudden a kilometer away from him and he was above, going up, up, into the sky and beyond into black.  The black of space?  No, this was different, the suffocating black of unconsciousness swallowed him up.</em><br/><br/><hr/><br/>"Ce...s, don walk 'way," he mumbled.  He felt..heavy.  His body ached.  There was an acrid scent in the air but also the metallic smell of blood and some strange aromas.  The air was warm and oddly thick, not the normal atmospheric conditions of the ship.  Antos groaned and opened his eyes, then blinked and opened them wider.  He was on his back behind the Operations console on the bridge.  The large window over him was broken.  Light and air streamed in, as did the sounds of...birds?  Some animal sounds, whatever they were.<br/><br/>He pulled himself up, supporting himself on his console and looked around the bridge.  "Prophets have mercy," he breathed at the damage he saw, as well as the readouts on his screens, several of where were cracked but still functional.  Then he saw the Captain and Commander Mara.  "Damn!"  He leaped over his console and tapped his comm badge, "Bridge to Sickbay!  Medical emergency on the Bridge, multiple severe injuries, the Captain is down with a head wound and it's bleeding badly!  Send a team immediately!"  He left the channel open in case they responded with questions as he moved to the side of the injured Senior Officers.<br/><br/>His readouts had shown they were on auxiliary power.  If the turbolifts were out, that meant it would take any medical personnel several minutes to get to the bridge.  Minutes the Captain may not have the way her head was bleeding.  He looked her over as he shrugged off his uniform jacket, leaving him in the red shirt beneath.  He folded the jacket a few times and then pressed it firmly to the Captain's injury to try and stop the bleeding, or at least stop it.  "Captain, can you hear me?  Please, answer me, Sir.  The ship needs you."  He wasn't going to jostle her or try to wake her up physically; moving her might make her condition worse for all he knew.<br/><br/>He looked around the bridge, seeking out the sight of the other officers, "Hey!  Anyone else al-anyone else here?  Sound off!"  He couldn't be the only one who'd made it.  They had to be all right.  They were just...slower to come to than him, right?  Right?