Manslaughter: Revelations --Final Part

(or all you ever wanted to know about serial killers.....)

The Marshal was focussing on something else Raynor said. "Cianan's coming here huh?" the old warrior seemed lost in thought for a moment. "Not sure if I should be encouraged or feel sorry for you poor bastards......Old 'C' was a tough old cuss back in the day......" Coming back the question at hand, Hux replied. "Look....everybody in that photo.....and in a thousand like it were close. It was war. Even if you hated a guys guts, he was still your buddy and you'd give your life for him. Mann was a good soldier....they all were. the only reason I'm using these 20 year old photos is because these were taken before the military conditioning.......modern cameras.....security or otherwise dont work on us. Thats why we dont have any more recent pictures."

"Out of curiosity and just to change up the pace a bit..." Raynor spoke up as he finished his other work quietly only a moment before. "Why isn't someone from the Argosian Military coming to get this guy... more specifically someone like the target... who has the same abilities? Or is he the only one of this type in that military? Or is there such an agent here right now and you just haven't told us? Also while I'm asking questions... you said that he has the ability to call up these... powers... at will. How much will power does it take up? How much of his concentration? While I'm at it would be nice to know what fail safes you put into your boy here to prevent him from falling out of line... and how such fail safes... if they exist... have failed?"

"Because the Angosians are members of the Federation, Raynor." Rex said before the Marshall even had to reply. "So that means the Marshall here works with us." He thought he was careful to keep the condescension out of his voice, but he truthfully thought the Ensign didn't belong anywhere near a Starfleet uniform, so it was difficult.

"And I'm sure the Marshall will correct me if I'm wrong - but the Angosian soldiers didn't have a lot of 'fail-safes'. If they had, they wouldn't have exiled all of them at first."

"We all know that the standard Angosian Soldier doesn't have too many..." Lieutenant Raynor replied, somewhat amused. "But he's not standard... extra precautions may have been taken... and even if there weren't... it might be worth reviewing the basics... in case someone sees something new in that..."

"And while I'm retorting... let me state what seems obvious to me. First off just because worlds become members of the Federation doesn't mean they disband their own military. We have a living weapon on board who has many military Argosian secrets locked away not only in his head... but in his body... not to mention the possibility that they might be able to get him to defect. He is extremely valuable to any organization out there with military or criminal ambition... anyone who can muster up a strike team to board our little space barge... and try and retrieve the target dead or alive. Those people will send the best available. And the people they send will be willing to do things that we can't because we want to live and keep this ship intact. They won't care. And this is of course in spite of whatever precautions you're higher level officials have taken to prevent such information from falling into the wrong hands."

"So with all this in mind... they send only you two... and by your own admittance... cannot go toe to toe with this guy, and have only a half baked strategy that worked before, but he was able to get out once you had him. So this leads me to conclude one of following:"

"1) You are actually the best that they have... in which case... were in a shit load of trouble

2) They did send someone else who isn't supposed to exist, and to make their asses were covered... they sent you... to act like the main performance when your actually just a side show...

3) Your superiors are simply incompetent or just looking for a scape goat to shift blame to... which would be you two...

4) They are trying to play down the importance of our target internally because they don't want a spy in their midst to report it to some enemy who will likely send a strike team to try and retrieve the target...

Or 5) One of your superiors is a traitor or simply crooked... and as such sent only a minimal force to capture this guy... all the while giving an enemy organization the maximum number of opportunities to retrieve the target..."

"Of course that's mostly based on the assumption you can't go toe to toe with this guy... and the fact that you haven't inform us how you had planned to capture or kill this guy..." Raynor said still amused. "You don't have some plan that your not telling us... do you?"

Both Marshals ignored the boy. Conspiracy theories and their afficianados bored them

Eve piped up once again, something having finally clicked into place in the question of searching for this man. "What about the objects that he has taken from his victims?"

Ella felt her hand twitch slightly. She had the urge to cover the bandage at her throat. She didn't see Corran's gaze flit over to her momentarily, either.

"I've reviewed what recordings and the statements of those that have survived that I can, and in most cases he has obtained something from them. Lieutenant Bental's phaser was an obvious choice, if only to terminate an annoying action," Eve began ticking off the various items. "Lieutenant Grey's vocoder I am quite curious about, but is ultimately a dead end on this train of thought. We come now to the combadge removed from Cutter Kara'nin's person, in the assault on himself and Lieutenant Bental. Moving on the hypothesis that the perpetrator has not already disposed of these articles, we should be able to track him because of the combadge. It carries its own transceiver array and a locator beacon designed to facilitate effective transporter locks on the wearer. While the transporters are useless, the tracking feature should still be viable. Simply look for Kara'nin's combadge locator." It was brilliant. Simple, but most brilliant things usually were. Then again, there was still the possibility that he had ditched the combadge for whatever ineffable reason.

~~I think he likes toys~~ Ella signed to Victor. ~~He showed me the implant like it was some kind of treasure, as a little kid would - like the Marshall said. I don't know how that's going to help you... track him though, Tiger.~~

Rex caught the signing as well. A momentary jealousy surfaced when he saw her sign her pet name for Kreighoff, and just for a moment, he wished their situation hadn't been near as complicated as it'd turned out to be. Might as well wish for universal peace while he was at it, though.

There was no doubt in Ella's mind, though, that Victor and Corran had more planned than just capturing this creep. She only wondered if the others knew to have the sense to stay out of his way when it all came to a head.

~Great... a kleptomaniac...~ Raynor thought to himself before speaking.

"Normally I'd agree that would be the way to go... but for the sake of assumption and the idea that the Security department on this ship follows protocol... you know using the a homing beacon on an object that was taken from a victim, at the time of attack... kind seems like standard think to do... and have turned up nothing... assuming that Security is following protocol..." Raynor said turning his head to Victor for a moment.

Glad he was sitting behind Raynor, Corran rolled his eyes. Caves, why was this kid even here? M'Kantu caught the expression, however, and tossed the Trill a reproving glare.

"We tried that," Victor responded. "There was no response on scans for the vocoder implant, and nothing from the combadge or the phaser, either. At this point in the briefing, I am led to believe that would be either because the scan shielding installed in the killer is preventing it from being detected, or because he acted in response to some residual impulse from his training, and manually deactivated the items by pulling their power cells to prevent this." He considered his further response, and then decided that there was no point in not sharing the rest of the information. "Since all live phasers aboard the ship are required to be authorized by the Ship's computer in order to fire, I believe that it is likely that Mann's scan shielding will prevent that authorization and thus render the weapon inoperative. Regardless, I've had Lt. Bental's previous issue weapon de-authorized; as soon as the weapon is powered up again the computer will lock it's firing circuits out. From what Marshal Hux tells us, it doesn't sound like Mann will be able to focus enough to perform the necessary rewiring to circumvent this."

"Of course there is another possibility to track our killer but it would take some time to setup..." Raynor began to suggest. "Activate every force field we have in every corridor and jefferies tube on a setting so low that anyone could pass through it without being slowed down, and a sensor system to tell us when a force field has been disturbed. We compare that with where everyone else is... and by process of elimination we find out at the very least what deck our target is on... and more than likely... where he's heading..."

He turned to Ella, "How long do you think that would take to put in motion?"

She wasn't an engineer anymore... but she had been Chief not too long ago and considering the absence of anyone who was currently in the Engineering department, she was probably the best to ask.

Ella held up a finger, got out her computer PADD.

NOT TOO LONG, she typed. BUT I WOULDN'T PUT IT PAST HIM TO FIGURE OUT A WAY TO DISMANTLE IT.

Raynor smiled. "If he realizes what's happening, and wants to keep his invisibility and mobility then yes... assuming he thinks like a rational and sane opponent... but we are also aware of such a possibility that... Disabling each force field or each force field sensor individually would take too much time and effort, especially for someone who is working on their own and has no special knack for engineering... plus having someone walk by and not show up on those force field trip wires would make us realize what was going on... and we could track by which force fields he disables... if he wants to maintain his ability to travel freely he would have to strike at something vital to that tracking system... which gives us the opportunity to ambush him. Plus we would be able to see his approach to that target... either way we get to see him and come up with a more thought out plan of approach or we tries to strike central weak point, and we get our shot to grab him. We just need to know where the weak point is... also since you know have a team waiting in a transporter room ready to jump on him when he strikes... or both you know just to cover all the bases..."

"And with as many people as we having moving around the ship, he could easily disable one of them and assume their commbadge code so that we don't pick up an unauthorized deactivation." Corran replied, pointing out the flaw in the plan. "It's better than nothing, yeah, but I think it's going to hamper us more than him."

"Except we wouldn't really be paying attention to people without commbadges at first," Raynor explained. "Only disruptions in forcefields without life signs. If it became necessary then we could follow all untagged life signs but that would be annoying. There are enough Civilians on this ship who aren't required to carry a Commbadge and we can't exactly tell them without giving him a major and important hint... plus it's a lot harder for him assume someone's identity as long as I'm around... I hear their psychic cry whenever people die or come close to dying... which is how I found Ella so quickly after her attack... so as long as I'm still alive here... or at least conscious if not alive... we don't have that problem."

"Exploring other options... how does he react to sonic weaponry?" Raynor asked.

"Sonic stunners annoy him.......Sonic Devastators......well they can kill him just like anybody else. Basically put them on the same level as phasers."

Marshal Hux and Marshal Daughtery looked around the room and exchanged meaningful glances. "Look people." Hux said, "I know there are probably about a million and one questions you guys have, so I'm making available these little datacubes with everything we know about this creep. "

"I also know there are those of you that want to play in your little fantasy world of political conspiracies and government coverups..." he glared specifically at Raynor, "Also some of you may not like the idea of working with Marshals, but the fact of the matter is Mel and I are the only people to ever catch him. Im sorry we dont have some fancy-dancy plan worked out for you, for the simple reason that he can see through elaborate traps and avoid them."

The big Lawman stared down the room. "We're gonna have to get our hands dirtty on this one folks. Adapt and improvise becasue for damn sure thats what he's gonna be doing." Seeing there were no more questions, he dropped a large box of datacubes on the table up front. "Come and get the info folks, and try tnot to get too many nightmares reading it."

Across the top of every cube was the neat little label: MILITARY RECORD: MANN, SLEITOR A.

MANN, SLEITOR ManSlaughter.

"10 Victor, Part VI"

By Petty Officer 2nd Class Benedict "Max" Maxwell, Paramedic,
NCOIC Emergency Medical Response Team (Current Status: Prisoner #8813-E419M25) (PC)
USS Galaxy

Various NPC's

Dunkin Donuts, 1st Avenue, NYC, NY, Earth, 0145 Hours, Late 2370

One of the more important parts of the day for both cops and medics in NYC is the 'meet'. It's here that EMS crews and local precinct patrol officers do their networking, catch up on sports, pass out invites, get the goods on any incidents that went down. And the meet traditionally occurred at the working man's Mecca: Dunkin Donuts. No where else could one get a decent cup of joe, a sweet treat loaded with sugar to pass the long hours of the night, and an appreciative store staff who knew they wouldn't get robbed or die of a heart attack during the time these public servants were around.

The Dunkin Donuts on the corner of 1st Ave and East 66th street was perfect for such 'meets' as there were at any given time at least 3 EMS units and 2 Patrol cars. Tonight's participants were 10 Victor, 10 William, and 08 William from EMS, and 19 David alongside 19 Eddie from NYPD. Max nodded to everyone present as he returned from the store with his extra large black coffee. His partner, Gavin Hooks (a veteran medic with other things on his mind) was already outside guffawing about the latest practical joke he played on Max: Setting his boots on fire with a lighter and a can of Lysol. Max flipped him the universal sign for 'The Bird' and bumped elbows with one of the cops, Elroy Killian.

"Max, you let this guy treat you like this," he asked giving a derisive look to Gavin. Gavin replied silently by giving Elroy a challenging look, as if to say 'anytime, dude'.

"It's alright. He's gonna be a rockstar, ain't ya, Gavin?" The look on Max's face didn't quite lend any credence to his actually believing that.

"Just you wait and see, Max," he replied already hearing his drums in his head.

"So," broke in Joey Torelli, another 19th Precinct cop, "you guys hear about the Day Lieutenant, Pantone?" When the rest of the night guys shook their heads, he continued. "Yeah, Lt. Pantone had the big one earlier, just as he got off the train to his house. It was horrible. The townies out there had no clue what they were doin', lemme tell ya. I know you guys woulda taken better care of 'im right?"

"You know we would," retorted Max, insulted by the very idea of comparison between City and the 'Burbs.

"Yeah, yeah, anyways we got a new Rookie coming on later. Megan Glascock, I think is the name..."

Torelli soon found his shoes covered in samples of barely sipped coffee from everyone present.

"Glascock???" everyone replied in unison. Laughter broke out followed by a few lewd comments about said Rookie's capabilities.

"10 Victor, 19 David for the Shooting," came a voice over the unified frequency, which was used to coordinate efforts between various emergency services. Both sets of partners looked at each other and started back to their units.

"Hey, we'll meet up here later, right," called out Max. He already knew the answer to that question.

"Sure, Max. Next round's on you," Torelli replied. Everyone knew that once the dance started, you didn't interrupt. They would meet up again on the next shift. It was the way it was at the 'meet'.

"R.O.O.R"
(released on own recognisance)

By:

By Petty Officer 2nd Class Benedict "Max" Maxwell, Paramedic,
NCOIC Emergency Medical Response Team (PC)
USS Galaxy

and NPC's

Office Of CPO Carl 'Cooter' Walker, Security, DS5, Now

"So you understand the conditions for your release?" A looming CPO Carl Walker was waiting for his answer. And he hated to wait. For his own part, Max had the look of someone who simply didn't care anymore. Three months. Three freaking months in a cell, transferred from one place to another, left to stew, not told a word of his exact charges.

Three freaking months. And now he's just supposed to agree to the conditions that are being handed to him from a CPO, who no doubt got the offer seventh or eigth hand. The deal was to keep his mouth shut, never speak about the incident involving his sister or his involvement. A department head could know that there was an incident involving an unauthorized use of Starfleet property, but nothing more. He kept his part of the deal, he gets to stay in the fleet as if nothing happened...although Max was very sure that those conditions were subject to the whim of whomever issued them.

Fuck it, he thought to himself. Cross that bridge when we come to it. Aloud he replied, "Understood, Chief."

"Good," the CPO said, satisfaction that his task was just about done. "Your biometric signature please," he added, handing Maxwell a PADD. With the signature done, the PADD beeped twice and displayed SIGNATURE ACCEPTED on it's screen. Max handed it back to the CPO, who then advised him that he was free to go.

"You're assigned to the USS Galaxy whenever they get here," Walker was saying. "In the meantime, consider yourself on...leave. You can utilize station facilities, you'll even have billeting until your ride gets here. Remember," he was adding, an edge creeping into his voice, "keep your mouth shut, and you'll be alright."

"Understood, Chief," was all Max would answer.

"Good. Dismissed."

Max got up and walked out into an open area of DS5, breathing free air (as it were) as if it were fine wine...to be savored. The first thing he wanted was food, so he began looking around for a decent spot to chow.

Fin.

"Something to Talk About"

Branwen London
Ella Grey

***
USS Galaxy

Bran did not mind making house calls. Like everyone on the ship she was appalled at what had happened to Ella. But still she had decided to give her some time before visiting. It would give Ella some time to gather her wits. She was not the type who would want to talk and share straightaway.

Ella smirked when she opened the door and then held up a pre-programmed computer PADD.

WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?

"I thought I'd give you some space. But you could have called for me if you needed me." Bran smiled.

Ella nodded non committaly and invited the marine in. She spent a minute typing on her computer. WELL, WHATEVER SHOULD WE TALK ABOUT?

"You know what I am going to ask, don't you." Bran said. "How are you truly, Ella?" She looked seriously.

I'VE BEEN BETTER, she replied. BUT I'VE BEEN A LOT WORSE. AND I'M STILL BREATHING. SO I'D SAY RELATIVELY WELL. YOU?

"Very well actually." Bran said honestly. "You know they say it helps if you talk about it. In your case write about it, I guess."

SO I'VE HEARD. I'D RATHER TALK ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE THOUGH.

Bran raised an eyebrow. "Ella, I understand it is difficult. I haven't gone through what you have gone through, but I have known some tough times. You have to face it and sooner would be better then later." She finished softly.

WHAT IS THERE REALLY TO FACE, BRAN. HE ATTACKED ME, I LIVED. I MOVE ON. I'M NOT DENYING THAT IT HAPPENED, I JUST DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.

Funny how that all sounded familiar, Ella thought. Oh yeah, I've used that a couple of times before. She liked Bran though so she resisted the urge to start messing with the counselor like she had done with her other therapists.

The marine therapist watched her for a moment, things like this she still found difficult, because there was so much on her own life she did not want to talk about, and she hated it when Kimberley pushed her. "No nightmares?"

Ella shook her head.

"I will leave this alone, if you promise to come to me at the first sign of trouble. You and I have to trust each other." She looked at her patient.

Ella gave an enigmatic smile but wrote that she would seek Bran out at the first sign of mental breakdown.

"Good, I trust your word. In that case we can talk about something else. You pick the topic." She smiled.

The pilot's smile became more sincere. HOW'S YOUR BOYFRIEND?

That brought a smile to Branwen's face. "He's alive, and he's here on the Galaxy, isn't that amazing?"

Ella nodded. TELL ME ABOUT HIM. I LIVE VICARIOUSLY THROUGH OTHERS.

"I don't mind. But wouldn't you like to live for yourself?" Branwen looked concerned again.

JOKING, BRAN the pilot wrote.

"Ah."Bran said and smiled. "Well about Man'dar....."

"Denied"

Captain Jaal Jaxom
Currently CO, USS Carthage

==Captain Ready Room==

"Transfer Denied" the screen read. "Due to the need for scientists with experience with T'Kith'Kin biology and chemistry, several who have worked with such in the field are being gathered to form a study group on possible future threats from the T'Kith'Kin hive. Lieutenant Ampete's experiences on the USS Miranda make her an ideal member of such a team."

It was the fourth time in as many weeks Captain Jaxom had read the same reply to his requests.

Lieutenant Ampete had been suddenly transferred to Jupiter Station, of all places, to work in a study group focusing the T'Kith'Kith Hive. It was ludicrous, Jaal thought, to take a perfectly good officer from the field, where they're needed, and stick them somewhere to 'study'.

As if she couldn't study out in the field 'and' not that the Trill's personal feelings towards said lieutenant had anything to do with it either.

Yeah, right.

To make matters worse, the Carthage was due for some computer systems upgrades. Unfortunately, Admiral Proctor was being a complete stonewall to such activities by requiring the absolute most and totally unnecessary paperwork to be filed for each upgrade activity. Things were so bad, rumors abounded that the admiral wasn't even letting the engineering teams doing the work off the station.

Jaal clenched his fists tightly.

He was beginning to really dislike his current assignment.

He needed to beat something up.

At that moment, his yeoman chimed in with a reminder, "Sir, you asked me to remind you when your lirpa class starts in fifteen minutes."

Jaal let out an uneasy breath, "Thank you." He stabbed the comm-panel embedded in the desk.

'Maybe beating some people up will make me feel better,' he thought shrugging to himself, 'It works for Smith.'

He got up and headed for the ship's gym...

"Hangin' Out At The Noose"

By:

By Petty Officer 2nd Class Benedict "Max" Maxwell, Paramedic,
NCOIC Emergency Medical Response Team (PC)
USS Galaxy

The 'Hanging Noose', DS5, Now...

It was only natural for Max to want a halfway decent meal after spending a few months in the Brig. Prisoner/Detainee rations got very old after day 1. He didn't even take the time to get out of uniform or check into his temporary billeting quarters. All he wanted...was a nice thick and juicy steak. With mashed potatoes, and gravy...

Ohhhh, gravy, Max thought in orgasmic glee. He knew it would most likely be replicated, but at this point, again, better than rations.

While waiting for his order, he felt a sensation he recognized. He had a visitor, but not one that was present physically. She was there with him. But he really didn't want to be bothered at this point, as he smelled the sinful meal approaching his table. Just as the food was placed in front of him, he heard a 'whisper'. Not so much a literal one, but the thoughts that he was receiving from her. He nodded almost imperceptibly, and proceeded to dive into his meal, yet taking the time to both enjoy the steak, and process the information he just got.

Lucinda is back in the Gamma Quadrant... he thought. The shock of the very concept finally hit him, and it was all he could do to keep his food down. Back to where it all began with whatever it was that was now fused with her. Max shuddered. She was already gone, but he felt the other one make itself known to him, as if to say 'I'm still here,' to remind him.

He took a large gulp of the drink he had ordered, finally felt calm enough to finish his meal. After about an hour at the establishment, Max finally went for a walk around the promenade. He peeked into a few shops here and there, seeing if there's anything he might have been interested in buying, but in the end didn't find anything at all. He noticed a couple of people from the Miranda here and there, wondering if he should approach, but realized there were not many people that he socialized with there.

In fact, most of the crew that he knew from the Miranda went to Starbase Atlantis. Atlantis. Now that was an assignment he would have loved to get on, but figured he was already on borrowed time with that stunt he pulled (which landed him in the Brig). Max caught sight of a familiar face, but not from the Miranda. An old friend from the Nobel. Dr. Lander Urleich. Max had no idea why the man would be here, however good friends are good friends and walked over to greet and reminisce.

"Lone Wolf and Maple Leafs"

Lieutenant Saul Bental
Chief of Intelligence (on medical leave)

Lieutenant J.G. Zev Raynor
Acting Chief of Intelligence

Zev had yet to visit his boss... it was time to buckle up and pay the man a visit... he walked through the sickbay doors and saw Saul lying in bed... his arm all but missing. He looked at it then at Saul and joked... "I trust that... uh... scratch... hasn't made you useless."

"Shalom Zev! Yes, redundancy is a wonderful thing." He replied, gesturing with his healthy arm. "How are you doing?"

"Well... I'm driving everyone a little nuts..." Raynor reported, and upon noticing there were no doctors or nurses around at the moment, he proceeded to the medicine cabinet and began looking at various drugs, as if bored. "So business as usual when you're not around... We've been assigned to help out with the psycho behind your... disarming." Raynor joked. "So the only thing I've managed to do is piss off the Federation Marshalls after this guy... mainly because I think they're incompetent."

~Also after they told us he was undetectable, I came up with a tracking system that should give us a general location...~ Raynor telepathically sent to Saul, not wanting to give it a chance to caught by any eavesdroppers that might be listening in. And even then... no details on how it worked.

The Dutchman scowled at him. His assistant's unique abilities - for someone of Terran origins - were disturbing at best. But it was better to have those abilities at your disposal rather than on someone else's, and Saul had allies which were far more dubious than Zev.

"How's the food?" Raynor asked.

"Terrible. Everything tastes like cough syrup; The transporters must be calibrated differently here. So, the marshals came after this guy? Bah. There's a reason we have a security department."

Saul realized that the Krieghoff guy from security must be searching the ship like a madman, especially given what Saul heard about the German's relation to Ella.

"Angosian Telepath... aside from all the usual upgrades this one can manipulate our senses through telepathy... the Marshalls have sent their resident Anti-Telepath in hopes that will be enough to catch this guy... I doubt it..." Raynor said picking up a vial of painkillers and studying it.

~And considering the advantage he has over both our senses and sensors...~ Raynor continued telepathically. ~If word gets out about him... I'm betting that we might have more than one intruder to deal with... probably a whole gang of them... which only compounds our problem... I have our people trying to figure out how much anyone else knows about the little Dynamo but... were probably going to find out way to late to stop any strike team that might come after him... I've got the counter intelligence unit working on disinformation and such but I don't want to use it unless they actually know something... and as a secondary objective I wouldn't be surprised if they went after the resident anti-telepath... or me... but then again, I'm a paranoid little bastard who likes to cover all the possibilities even if their based on a lot of ifs...~

Saul nodded. Even paranoids had enemies, let alone paranoid intelligence officers. An enhanced trooper which can mislead the mark I eyeball (even before ripping it out) would make any military technology researcher joyful. The Hydrans, for example.

"The reason I'm not using a simple counter sound device is because I'm in the middle of stealing drugs for temporary performance enhancing capabilities... among other things, in case I run into the bastard..." Raynor admitted aloud before his superior could complain again with his face.

"If you think being high will make it less painful, think again." Saul snorted. "I take it you're not joking about the drugs?"

"I am aware of the risks sir..." Raynor said pocket a couple of choice drugs. "But even without the target's stealth capabilities... he's still an Angosian soldier... Genetically and Chemically enhanced so that even while starving himself half to death he's running around like an Olympic athlete. While I work hard to maintain myself at near Olympic levels, I need to be able to match this guy physically if I'm going to have shot at beating him. And I don't have the time to push myself even further so that I can match him."

He allowed himself a short pause before continuing. Saul mumbled something like 'Drugs are bad, mm-kay?' but remained otherwise attentive.

"I have come up with half a dozen damn creative tactics to deal with him at mid to short range, but if it comes down to melee or hand to hand... and considering his victims so far, is exactly what he'll go for... drugs are the only option for me to match him in a contest of physical ability... my information is limited on his technique, or how he would handle a fight that lasted longer than 2 seconds. Sir, if I'm going to prepare for every contingency... using drugs is a viable option for me. If it leads to his defeat and capture or death... even if I become addicted or worse... that will be worth it."

"You're going with your head first into the wall." Saul indicated. "You're not alone in the battlefield, and even if you don't trust the Marshals there are plenty of people on board who can help, not just get in the way. Eve for instance - I wouldn't be surprised if she's at least partially immune to the Angosian's stealth capabilities. Plus you don't have to confront him - just seal him in a section of the ship and take all the air out or irradiate it."

Raynor thought about it for a minute. He thought about explaining how there was a parallel between him and Mann... how they had been through similar experiences. How as a child Raynor had lost control, and starting killing people at random. But that was a story for another time... instead he went with a more obvious, and relevant reason for pursuing this himself.

~Because those involve near death or death situations which I want to avoid... if I even get an echo of his memories... it leads to gaining memories of some of the training he went through to manipulate others senses... then I'm might start to accidentally display similar abilities through the same telepathic manipulations. And chances say I won't be able to control it right away... and then we'll have to tell a lot of people who don't have proper clearance something to placate them... though once word gets around... and someone makes the connection... we'll have the same strategical situation as we do now... only with me as the target of the enemy and not Mann...~

The Dutchman looked skeptic.

"It takes a lot more skill to capture someone than to kill them..." Raynor said aloud. "I like to skillful... just a personal preference... of course... and your right... I don't have to do this alone... but I feel like I should. You know the whole lone wolf thing..."

"Get over it." Saul said. "I think it's better. At least inform whoever runs the operation from the ship - Corgan or whoever - of your intentions. I'm not going to order you to work with Eve because I know that would make this the last time you come to me with anything. But I AM advising you to work with her, and if you won't then I won't be able to back you up when things go messy."

"You know I feel like the States being asked to bring Canada along into a war by the UN..." Raynor joked. "I'll talk to Eve... see if she's up for it... and I'll compose a letter to be sent... informing the Head Pancho of my plans... isn't something I desire to do in person."

"You know, you don't have to give head Poncho ALL the gory details." Saul noted, although he was sure that Raynor had no such intention. "As for Eve, she could probably wipe out Canada's army, at any given era. She may look to you like a girl who think it's funny to imitate a robot, but you more than anyone on this ship know the difference between the mask and what happens inside."

"Canada had the best army in the world at one point..." Raynor said. "Their Military has always been smarter than the USA's in my opinion... They held off a US attack on their soil with nothing more than 50 guy howling some ancient Native yell... scared off most of the invaders and captured or killed whoever was stupid enough to try invade Canada on his own... They burned down the White House and are the reason it is painted white even today... They gained their independence through negotiation, not war over tea... which more in line with Sun Tzu... They built a canal to bypass US cannons making those same guns useless... During the first gas attacks ever used when everyone else ran, the Canadians sat there, they pissed in a bunch of cloths, sat there and took it... They took Vimy Ridge which everyone had a shot at... and everyone failed to take... Juno beach which was the second hardest position to take in Normandy..."

Raynor paused realizing how passionate he was getting about Canadians... which was odd. Even for him.

"Eve would wipe out the American army too, if that comforts you." Saul assured him. He made a mental note to read some Canadian history books while he was still grounded to sickbay, since he wasn't acquainted with most of the details Raynor gave.

"I could keep going but I don't want to be here all day..." Raynor said. "Suffice to say... I think that the Canadians were smarter and tougher bastards that anyone has ever given them credit for... The only thing that they always lacked was... numbers and equipment... so they have this rep as being the nice guys you know... I only feel like the States... but in terms of ability... I would be the Canadian... Eve would be the American... which is closer to the truth than I think most people realize..."

Raynor paused again, reflecting inwardly on what he meant by that...

"Anyway, go get him." Saul said icily, narrowing his eyes "And when you do... it would be safer if we take both his arms off."

"I don't believe in an eye for eye... and especially not a twofer..." Raynor joked. "Though I might consider one of his legs... maybe..." and with that he turned to leave.

"You do that." Saul called after him.

A Bental always pays his debts.

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