"Blame it on the 'Prophets'... "

[Guest Fiona Weber]

She was insane. Clearly, utterly, and entirely. So was that other one...Kwai. But still, in comparison... Kawalas was winning the informal insanity competition that Fiona was organizing.

 

As half of her brain debated the results of that little contest, Fiona gave herself a solid mental whack in the shins for not thinking to compare the results of the two electroencephalograms before speaking to the Caitian admiral. Brain slip and all that. Although...

 

The doctor paused. She hadn't run that first scan -- when the officer had come in for an examination of her headaches. Her predecessor had done that... Falcon was it? T-something Bird. Vulcan, if she remembered properly -- had run those. No wonder Fiona hadn't raised an eyebrow.

 

Processing an overlay, the human woman frowned. They didn't even look like they'd been taken of the same person, and that was something you didn't see very often. The most recent waves looked as close to normal as could be expected on a boat like this, but the earlier ones...

 

They were just wrong. You had theta waves creeping in when subject was supposedly wide awake. The ones she'd just taken showed the proper amount of gammas... but... something was strange in the earlier ones. And that was right before her decent into lunacy had supposedly began.

 

Quickly finishing and forwarding the results, she sighed, furrowing her brow. It could have been caused by any number of things, and she wasn't about to chalk it up to the ever-responsible, ever-pesky wormhole aliens. Weber didn't care if it "fit" easily, would get their Bajoran off the hook, or any other such trivial possibilities. She was getting to the bottom of this.