"Cut the rhetoric and just tell me who you are!" Mr. Garibaldi was having one of those days. He should have realized how bad it would be when he got up and found his lights were on the blink. But he had a job to do. Couldn't let a petty thing like malfunctioning lights get in the way of protecting the station, now could he? First call in the morning was for a murder, Downbelow. Nothing new there, except that they actually had a witness. Of sorts.

"Who are you. Isn't that one of the quintessential questions asked of us in this day and age? Look at you. You're a human, male, a security officer, a son, maybe a brother, or father, I bet you've been a confident. Yet you try to sum up every role into a single phrase. It can't be done, man."

The conversation with the witness was very constructive, up to a point. The man with his hair tied back had given a lot of information about the sequence of event leading up to the murder, along with a good description of the suspect. He filled in details and was more than helpful. Until the young man was asked his name. Garibaldi had just spent the last twenty minutes listening to the guy ramble off on tangents that were making his head spin and he'd had about enough.

"Your NAME!" He watched with intense satisfaction as the guy sort of shrunk in on himself.

"Blake?" The guy’s blue eyes that had earlier been sparkling with mischief were now distant and guarded.

"Thank you. Now what's the rest of it?" Garibaldi figured the rest of this should be pretty easy. He was wrong.

"What rest of it? There are hundreds of cultures that identify individuals by a single name. Granted in most cases, they are fairly small communities, where a single name is more than adequate to differentiate between people, but then again, the Narn use single names. They also use a prefix, I really haven't had a chance to look much into their history so I'm not sure of the significance…"

"You know what?" Garibaldi interrupted the man's ramblings, deciding to pull out the big guns, metaphorically speaking of course. "I'm getting kinda tired of this, so what's say I ask you a question and you give me a straight answer. Otherwise, I'm gonna have to let you have a chat with Talia. Did I mention Talia? She's our resident telepath. A wonderful person. Can pull information out of your brain so slick, you wouldn't even know she was in there."

"Wait a sec, I know my rights. You can't do that, so the threat is totally bogus." The guy's face noticeably paled and Garibaldi knew he'd hit pay dirt. Of course, fear of telepaths wasn't exactly uncommon in this section of the station.

"Actually, in some cases, it's more than legal to have a telepath scan a witness." It wasn't a lie. It wasn't exactly the truth either, but Sheridan was having another one of his planning session in an hour and he was starting to run short of time.

"Not without their permission!" The guy was not happy and looked like he was starting to hyperventilate. He was really freaked by the thought of a telepath in his head. Bells started going off in Garibaldi's mind and he started to wonder why the man was so freaked.

"There was a case where the witness was unconscious at the time and they really needed to get his statement, so a telepathic scan was authorized." Garibaldi kept up the smooth line, carefully leading the jumpy man to the conclusion he wanted.

"I'm not unconscious." Yup, the man was really starting to sweat.

"Not right now you aren't. Am I making myself clear?" Garibaldi watched in satisfaction as the guy before him swallowed and slowly nodded. "Great. Now what's your name? Your full name."