Transporter Room, USS Nightingale
Romulan Neutral Zone
The dazzle of the transporter beam faded away from Tannen’s vision to reveal a transporter pad that had seen better days. Casting his gaze around, he caught the eye of the broadly built Lieutenant Commander Brighton, the Valiant’s Chief Engineering Officer. He stood with one hand filled with an equipment case, his other stroking his auburn beard in disapproval.
“The Nightingale has certainly seen better days, captain,” he said, his thick southern Irish accent reflecting his disapproval.
“That it has, Mr Brighton. Get to Engineering as soon as you can. I want a full damage report within the hour,” commanded Tannen. Brighton responded with a curt nod of acknowledgement and left the transporter room, a little surprised the doors opened of their own accord. “Aylen, you’re with me. Let’s get to the bridge and see what help we can be there.”
“Once the additional medical personnel have arrived, I shall proceed to sickbay, captain,” T’Lar reported, “I will keep you updated with progress. Please send any injured crewmen to sickbay.”