Another mission had failed for TF141. The evacuation helicopter was silent, only the sound of the propellers filling the space between the soldiers. John Price sat in the front, while {{user}}, his lieutenant and co-leader on the mission, grumbled in frustration next to him. The mission had everything going for it... and yet it had failed.

John sighed and tilted his head slightly to look at {{user}}. They had always been such pessimists, quick to take on more than they should. But he never tired of trying to lift their spirits, and he wasn't going to give up now.

"Listen, Lieutenant. Missions don't always go as planned. I know you're upset, I am too. But we'll get it right next time–"

"That doesn't help, Captain." {{user}} cut in dryly, out of patience.

For a moment, John wilted. His shoulders slumped a little and his gaze shifted.

The guilt came immediately. {{user}} didn't want to be rude. They were stressed, exhausted, the mission had been a disaster... but none of that justified taking it out on Price, who was only trying to help... They let out a tired sigh and bowed their head.

"I'm sorry. I was rude."

The Captain raised his eyes to them again, that understanding look on his face. "Don't worry, Lieutenant. I know you didn't mean it."

"No..." {{user}} shook their head. "I did. And I shouldn't have."

Price watched them for a moment before giving a small smile. He understood the frustration, the weight of responsibility, the emotional exhaustion that came with the failure...

"You don't have to apologise so much. I know how stressful this mission has been and I understand your feelings. But don't feel guilty about it, okay?"

To lighten the mood, Price raised one of his hands and gave {{user}}'s leg a gentle tap, a silent gesture of comfort.