Marcus was relieved to hear that everyone was well, the war was won and an era of peace was taking its first, shaky baby-steps into the universe; seemed like he had chosen the wrong time to die.

"The Alliance has been a force for good," Stephen shrugged, "mostly…"

"While all this is fascinating, Stephen," Marcus sighed, "it still doesn't tell me where everyone is…"

Stephen nodded, "They're all mostly here… Sheridan and Delenn, Londo and G'Kar…"

"Stephen," Marcus warned, he was getting tired and losing his patience with his friend who was trying to update him on the time he had missed during his 'death'.

"Ok, ok…" Stephen placated, "look… this is all still very new to us…"

"Stephen…"

"And, not to mention, you've been clinically dead for over three years and that may be useful…"

"Stephen!"

He sighed deeply, "She isn't here."

Marcus blinked.

"She couldn't stay," the doctor went on, "Not after…" he gestured toward Marcus, "everything."

The Ranger nodded, feeling slightly numb. "Is she…" the words formed before he had thought about them and he found his head shaking…

"Is she what?" Stephen asked quietly…

Feeling broke through the moment and Marcus half-laughed in hopelessness. What was he going to ask? Is she well? Did she move on? Is she with someone? Where is she now? And does she ever speak of me?

Stephen sighed and Marcus instantly regretted his questions as his friend answered, "Marcus…"

Suddenly, he wished he had never been revived… Stephen was trying his best physicians patter, moving to put an arm round him in comfort.

Marcus was about to tell him not to answer and just dismiss the question as the babbling of a mad man… when Stephen nodded to himself.

"Your death messed her up pretty badly," the doctor admitted, "she left. Couldn't stand to be here without you. Couldn't stand to be around us…"

Marcus felt himself blink back the shock of his words.

"Her last order was to put you in cryo in case we ever found a way to revive you."

Marcus nodded… it all spelled out one word… Guilt.

As if answering his thought, Stephen shrugged not meeting his eye, "You can take all that however you like. But I know Susan. You meant more to her that even she realised at the time."

Well what was that supposed to mean?

Did Stephen think she loved him? Was he saying she was in constant pain over his loss? Should he go to her?

It was all a little too much for Marcus to process at that moment, so he dismissed the topic by sniffing loudly and frowning, "What do you mean that my being dead could end up useful?"

Stephen smiled, seemingly relieved to change subject from the newly promoted Captain of the EAS Titans and move to current politics, "Well… Michael thinks it could offer the alliance an edge."

An edge? Marcus frowned… "You mean a spy?"

"Before you joined the Rangers, you worked in Earthforce Intelligence as a special agent…"

Marcus nodded, "No need to explain, Stephen," he interrupted, saving his friend the need for long explanations, "I'm sure Michael has thought of a thousand ways to persuade me into the role. I shall await his call."

The two men smiled and gave the moment pause.

"Doctor," an oddly familiar voice called from the next room.

Stephen startled, checking his watch and looking back to Marcus, "But right now you have another appointment to keep. Need to get you some clothes."

()()()

And so Marcus Cole, resurrected hero of the great Shadow War and freedom fighter, found himself back in the recruiting clutches of secret intelligence.

I've been here before, he thought, as Michael Garribaldi explained to him how a man of his unique situation could aid the cause of peaceful intelligence.

But part way through the expected schpeel… Marcus found an increasing discomfort growing.

"Michael," he interrupted when the newly appointed head of alliance intelligence paused to breathe, "I'm sure you've already done your research and know I have prior experience in working for intelligence in the aftermath of the Earth/Menbari war."

The former security chief nodded in silence.

"Well – I think you will pretty much know that I am dedicated to the cause…" he gave a cursory glance around the small grey room, "for the most part…"

"Most part?" Garibaldi gave a lopsided smirk, "You wanna tell me a cause better than keeping the galaxy safe?"

Marcus felt the laugh blow through his nose, "You want to tell me when a righteous cause became a covert operation?"

Garibaldi didn't even blink. He didn't smile or even twitch.

"The thing is, Mr Garabaldi… I have had one hell of a few days. Or, comparatively, hell of a few years."

The ex-security chief nodded in agreement.

"I have already had a lot of my time wasted recently, and you might appreciate that I have a new perspective on time and how every moment is precious."

Garibaldi smiled, small and knowingly.

"So I hope you don't take offence when I ask you to cut the political rhetoric and tell me what this, supposed, new role for me is to be."

"You're our spy," Garibaldi said, a smile marked in his eyes as he quickly placated, "And that means spy, not assassin… though, God knows you have the skill and the ability…"

Marcus gave him a flat look.

"I'm kidding…" Garibaldi gave a laugh…

He wasn't kidding – but it was also not the objective he had engaged the English man for.

"You'll have a new identity," Michael continued, "and all the documents to go with it."

Marcus nodded, Why not? "Who am I to spy upon?"

"First I need your word that you won't disclose anything of what we are about to discuss…"

"Dead men don't talk, Michael."

The former security chief nodded. And even if they did… who would he tell?

()()()

Marcus ordered the lights low as he entered his quarters; his head was aching and the day-glow bulbs weren't helping.

He was adjusting… to the darkness… to the information he had just heard. They were at war.

An involuntary snort reverberated through his nose; Shadow War… Earth War… and now the Drakh.

What was the point?

Marcus felt a twinge in his temple as he leaned against the wall. He was tired… he'd already died in the name of duty and honour and love… Now he had a second chance to do it all again. Would it be so bad to sit this war out and wait for the next one? Just charter a ship and sail out to go and find Susan and tell her he loved her…

He already had a second-chance at life…Didn't he deserve a second chance at happiness as well?

His fingers closed around a hot mug of tea.

"Thanks," he murmured as the calming blend filled his senses.

"You are most welcome."

Marcus felt his eyes snap wide.

The hand belonged to a woman, tall and graced with a slim, curvaceous figure. Her hair was twisted up into a knotted fabric sheet, which fell around her caftan like a cape.

"How did you get in here?" He demanded, taking a step away and feeling his back hit the wall.

She frowned at the question, "I saved your life…"

Marcus blinked…

What?