Miles breathes out a laugh and actually smiles, and it sticks this time, at least for a few more moments. "Something like that. I was keeping Naismith under wraps, didn't have a clue if anyone else we knew or who might come out of the Ingress, and it got a little hard to explain after a point how a courier officer knew anything about directing rescue and evac operations."

He knocks back another drink, because he knows he's not going to enjoy grinding out this part. It still freaks him the hell out, to think about his own death, how he'd died. "Everything was going to hell. It was bloody chaos. Unmitigated collateral damage, I mean -- the planet was made of glass, down to its core. The sky might as well have been falling." He feels an odd twinge in his gut at that. "I did my best. We all did. Got all -- most of the crew back to the ship. Evacuated as many Caducans as we could before the core cracked and the whole damn planet started to cave in on itself."

Miles isn't looking at his other self anymore, staring at the fire, or the middle distance between them, anyway. He wets his lips, mouth suddenly dry. "I was running a family out of one of the buildings. Glass coming down everywhere. They got out -- I think -- " He smiles tightly down at his hands. His head is starting to hurt. Must not be drunk enough yet. "I didn't."