Scene 1: Alpha Site

Back on the surface, Asher feels like he can breathe fully again. However, his breath catches when he sees O'Malley's coffin and again when he sees the family and friends left behind. If only he had been better at keeping his head under pressure. Perhaps this was why his CO had assigned him to the mission: to get back into the field and gain more experience.

As a loved one talks about O'Malley's full life, a beer is placed in his hand. A toast is called for and he holds up his beer in honor of a fallen colleague. He is reminded about part of the reason he joined the military: to serve and dedicate his life to something greater. He takes a large swig and resolves to work hard on the mission O'Malley has given his life for.

He glances at the others who tried to save O'Malley: Duclair, Rodriguez, Justice, Kowalsky, Messer.

Then he looks over at Johnson, the one they were able to save.

Despite the mixed results, everyone had made their best efforts under difficult circumstances. If only they could continue with the same enthusiasm with better results for whatever was coming their way in the future...

Veronica Rodriguez stood near the cooler, scanning the somber crowd. It was impossible to ignore the weight in the air—the grief, the guilt, the unspoken questions. She had her own share of them, but tonight wasn’t the time to let them take over.

Her gaze landed on Asher Donahue, standing a little apart from the others. He looked like he was still holding his breath, like he was bracing for another wave to hit him. She recognized that feeling all too well. Picking up a cold beer from the cooler, she crossed the room. Just in time for the next toast, Veronica pressed the bottle into his hand. He looked a million miles away.

Veronica lifted her beer alongside the others, her grip tightening around the bottle. She didn’t look at the coffin—not directly. It was too soon. Donahue glanced around, his eyes moving over the team: Duclair, Justice, Kowalsky, Messer... and then her. When his gaze shifted to Johnson, Veronica’s chest tightened. She’d done everything she could in the field, just like the others. They’d saved one, but not the other. The math didn’t feel fair. It never did.

She took a drink. They’d all done their best, she reminded herself. And if O’Malley had been standing here instead of lying in that box, he’d probably have told them to knock off the self-pity and focus on the mission ahead.

Veronica lowered her bottle and turned her attention back to the group. For her team and for the next fight waiting for them, she resolved to do just that.

Elias sits in a wooden chair of to the side nursing a bear. He smiles distractedly as loved ones raise their glasses to O’Malley.

He raises his lukewarm beer.

He knows he tried, bit still an overwhelming feeling of quilt fills his soul. He should have tried harder. Maybe if he wasn’t so damn incompetent things would have gone differently.

He gives assurances and comfort to the family, and that makes him feel even more oit of place. A man died, very clearly a good man.

He tries not to let his own quilt and sorrow show on his face the night progresses. It’s not fair to the family. It’s not fair to O’Malley.