[It wasn't. Immediately, visibly, it wasn't. The man moves to sit up to get a better look and... stops for some unseen pain and settles back. Those piercing gray eyes never leave Miles though, consternation clear, a bit wondering if this was Mark, somehow. Shed a pile of weight, perhaps, but the nerves, the address.

Damn his chest though.]

They say it was an inch and a rib, but I'd swear that surgeon did a butcher's job in there. I'm told it's fine.

[And to stop moving, stop taking lines out. For the love of all that's holy stop trying to log into the work comm. Aral is a very selective listener.

It's not the case right now, his attention is quite fully on Miles.]

And you? You've had a sight more work done.