Jeff looked in the mirror as he straightened his tie. The reflection looking back belonged to a stranger. His blue eyes were faded with fatigue and the grief etched in his handsome features, made him look so much older than his thirty-five years. He couldn't feel anything but disbelief and guilt. Disbelief that today they were going to bury his long-time friend and colleague. Guilt that he had come back from the moon mission without him. Jeff Tracy knew he had failed. As the leader of the moon mission, he should be the one to have made the ultimate sacrifice. Not his second-in-command. Not him.

It was still too raw for him to think about.

A gentle hand on his shoulder brought him back and Jeff looked at the beautiful woman at his side. His beautiful wife, Lucy, gazed lovingly at him with her soulful warm brown eyes. Standing on her tip-toes, she kissed Jeff softly on the cheek and wrapped her arms around him in a comforting embrace. He returned the hug, holding on her like the life line she was for him. The warmth of her body dissipated the chill that had been with him since the mission. He buried his face in her chestnut hair, the familiar scent comforting him. They stayed that way for a long time.

"It's time to go, Jeff," Lucy said, gently.

"I know," Jeff replied. Reluctantly, he let go of her but couldn't bring himself to move. His feet felt as heavy as his heart.

She touched his face with a sad smile. She understood how he felt just like she always did.

"Let's go," he sighed, drawing himself up with the strength he hadn't had since coming back from the disastrous mission .

He had to do this. It was time to say goodbye.

It was a full military funeral, full of all the ceremony and respect deserving of a Space Agency astronaut that had given his life in the line of duty. It was also a feeding frenzy of reporters scrambling for the best interviews, cameramen angling for the best views, and photographers trying to get the most touching of pictures. Jeff tried to avoid it as he avoided all publicity. He abhorred being in the public eye and guarded his family's privacy vigilantly but sometimes it was impossible to stay out of it. With each successful mission and recognition of his bravery, he had become a press favorite.

He knew there were cameras fixed on them as they had a prominent place in the group of personal mourners. He and Lucy stayed close to the fallen astronaut's widow and young daughter.

Jeff studied his polished shoes during most of the funeral service. He was painfully aware of the flag draped coffin only yards away. He was also aware of a woman's ragged sobs and Lucy's soft whispers of comfort as she held on her friend's hand. He couldn't look at them. He couldn't look at anything. He could only replay the mission over and over in his mind, from take-off, the stop at the ISS, then the flight to the Moon. Where had it started going wrong?

He replayed it over and over in his mind. Equipment failure had left them with little hope for survival. There would be no rescue, no help from the Earth below. No one would be able to reach them in time. They only had themselves to depend on. The plan had been desperate enough, created from ingenuity and the will to survive. Each decision, each command brought them closer to safety. It had worked so why had it gone so wrong? All of them could have made it home. It shouldn't have ended this way.

Something made him look up and for the first time he saw the coffin. Jeff scanned the faces of the mourners. Did he have the nerve to show up? Did he have the gall to be here, alive and breathing, when the man he killed was being buried? Jeff noted with grim satisfaction that his face wasn't one in the crowd. At least he had the decency to not show up.

His eyes settled on the coffin, only this time he didn't look away. They all had know the inherent risks with being an astronaut. He could almost hear his friend's voice reminding him of that truth. They had often sat discussing it in the middle of the night over a drink.

The rest of the service was a blur until it was time for the flag presentation. The head of the Space Agency, General Austin, handed the perfectly folded flag to the widow but she began sobbing and couldn't take it. Instead, a little curly-haired girl of four came forward and took the flag. She smiled up shyly at the military officer, who knelt down and hugged her, whispering something in her ear. The little girl nodded and clutched the flag to her chest. Uncertainly, she looked back at the crowd of people.

Jeff felt his throat constrict. Without hesitation, he stepped forward. The little girl smiled again, recognizing him. Still holding the flag tightly with one arm, she reached the other towards him.

He picked her up and held her close as if she was one of his own young sons. "It will be okay. I promise," he murmured.

The little girl nodded, her father's eyes full of trust looking at Jeff from her little face.

It was a promise Jeff planned to keep, not just to his friend's child, but to the children of the future. He wasn't sure how he would do it, but he was determined to save other lives from being lost. He may not have been able to prevent death from winning this time, but the future was wide open. He could and would make the world a better, safer place.