Earth Time: 20 Mar 2575

"Shouldn't you be dead?" came the deep, serene, but playfully gruff voice of Drall as his golden specter formed in front of Marcus's path stopping him in his swift tracks in the dizzying tunnels under the surface of Epsilon III.

"The same could be said for you, you know." Marcus teased hitching his hands up on his hips. "How old are you now, anyway?" He smiled jokingly.

"That's very impolite to ask! Let's just say I'm 'Middle-aged' for a caretaker of the Great Machine and leave it at that!" The holgraphic Minbari blustered playfully. "I rather thought you were another of Delenn's army of babysitters, actually."

He shook his head. "Sorry. Not this time."

"Just as well. After my years here it feels like the Ranger's are poking at the doorbell to see how I am every other minute!" He laughed so loud Marcus nearly flinched. His huge wide smile was very disarming.

Marcus laughed. "If it helps any they consider it one of the highest honors, it's a duty only given to the best and brightest."

"Then I should probably treat them better. Still... It's been a very long time since I've seen a familiar face. A very long time. Though I fear yours will be the last I am likely to see." Draal smiled.

"Indeed, but I am happy to see any familiar face right now as well, let me tell you. If you only knew what I've been through…" he exhaled tiredly for effect.

Now Drall frowned. "I have a pretty good idea, of course," The Minbari raised an eyebrow and crossed his hands. "Marcus, as much as I would like to, you know I cannot help you do what you want."

"Twenty minutes of your time, that's all I ask."

Marcus had made his case. Draal was now off considering his pleas while he did his work in the machine. He'd been waiting three days for an answer, which by Drall's standards was probably a blink. To Marcus it was torture. God only knew how long the man took to make a decision; days were but moments to him. Marcus was likely to become a very old man before Draal even remembered to think about it.

His generous host had seen to it that a small room was prepared with a dusty threadbare cot and some food. Marcus was thankful he'd brought some food with him as well. The cot had come from centuries before when they had been forced to house some refugees on the surface at the tail end of the war with the shadows.

On the upside, Draal had given him hesitant permission to stroll around the Great Machine seeing his clear interest in some of the surroundings, but he was careful enough to temper it with a polite but firm order of "Don't touch anything!"

Marcus at the time thought nothing of it, but then he turned a hidden corner into a small room covered in intricate control panels and screens playing all sorts of footage from a hundred worlds too many to concentrate on just one. It took all his willpower to force his hands in his pockets.

He heard a shuffling outside the door. He'd become rather familiar with their owner's constant skittish shadowing of him the past few days. Zathras was never seen, but his footsteps were omnipresent. Marcus was more amused than offended.

"I'm not touching anything. I swear Zathras. While you're there though... what's this room for?"

More shuffling, then finally a squinty furry man poked his head the door. He looked back out over his shoulder cautiously then whispered waving his hand to imply this was secret, "Dees is Zathras' watching place. Come. You must leave now. Nothing to see here."

Marcus turned back to the screens, watching a sunset wish over the surface of a spectacular green planet he'd never seen before. "Watching place? And what do you watch exactly?"

Zathras stepped into the tiny room slowly setting himself between Marcus and the console he flipped a switch and all the screens went black. "Zathras watches things from Great Machine. That is all Zathras will say. No more to see."

Marcus could feel the little hairs on his neck stand up as a whisper of a thought hit him. What was it Drall had said? "As much as I would like to, you know I cannot help you do what you want." Yes, that was it.

Marcus quickly ran the sentence over his highly trained Minbari to English filter in his mind. Drall said he couldn't help him. He however didn't say that it couldn't be done -- or by who.

He laid on his most charming smile at Zathras. He suddenly felt sorry for the attendant of the Great Machine.