The sudden hush in conversation makes Simon look up, a combination of curious and wary, the wariness he learned when he first started to pit himself against the Alliance and that he's maintained ever since.

There's only one thing he registers when he turns around though, and that's a man, bloody and broken and falling to the floor, and Simon's on his feet and dashing across the lounge by instinct alone before thought has had any chance to kick in. He may be in a different century, in a different universe, on a different ship, but he's still a doctor.

"Give him room!" he shouts to the people nearby, who are beginning to crowd in around the man on the floor. Simon pushes his way past them, dropping to his knees at the man's side, eying the man's injuries even as he starts to check his vitals.

"It's okay," he says, automatically, "I'm a doctor."

But it's not okay, and he can tell that as soon as he gets a closer look at the man that it's not okay. Not without immediate, intensive medical care.

He glances up, eyes flicking around the crowd until he sees someone in the uniform of the Enterprise crew.

"You!" he snaps, pointing at the man. "Contact the infirmary right now and tell them there's a patient on the way."