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"Apologies," Lesh'ar murmured, moving his hand to hover over McCoy's face as he reached up with his other arm to move some of the lights aside. He retracted his hand then. "Is that better?"

McCoy slowly opened his eyes again, blinking several times before he nodded. "Yeah...yeah that's good."

"How do you feel, Doctor?" Chapel said quickly, leaning over him. "Do you have any feeling in your torso right now? Your arms?"

McCoy slowly began to move his arms and legs, closing his eyes again tiredly. "My chest is numb, no thanks to you."

"You're right. It is no thanks to me. That was his fault," Chapel said, jabbing her long-nailed thumb in Lesh'ar's direction. "He loaded you up with pain-killers."

"And antibiotics," Lesh'ar said with a nod. "You should be well on your way to health in no time, Doctor. Give yourself a few days."

"I don't have a few days." McCoy said, looking over at Lesh'ar. "This is the 24th century. We don't stay in bed for days."

"You do when you have nearly been stabbed in the heart, Doctor," Lesh'ar said gently. "You are fortunate to be alive."