He opened the door, and looked around the room, before coughing politely. "Excuse me, but the engines are going critical, and we need to evacuate, now. I have the survivor from the med bay, but I would like you to come with me so we can figure out what happened. And please put down the gun, I would rather not have to endure nightmares of you shooting yourself."<br/><br/>He kept his tone light and soothing, not moving from the door. Clearly whatever had happened had driven the soul in the chair beyond, or more likely up to their limits, suicide was a REALLY hard thing to do, the brain fought hard with the subconscious, and the subconscious usually won. Of course, with his luck, he would beat the odds yet again, and give him another mental scar to fake for a while.