Jim scrubbed at his eyes again, looking up and over at the former drone just in time to meet her own blue-eyed gaze. Her eyes were a lighter, brighter shade than his own, which had often times been compared to that old 20th Century singer, Frank Sinatra's. Jim wondered momentarily if his father had the same shade or if Jim had ended up with a different hue, but shrugged it off.
"Maybe there's some sort of dampening field up--disruptors or force fields that prevent your doctor's programming from moving outside of a certain set of parameters?"
He moved from where he had been leaning on the table to stand next to her. Jim put a hand on her shoulder and smiled gently. "We'll figure it out. There's a solution for everything. Just takes some time to find it, is all."