A/N:

Hey guys! Just wanted to let you know that the poll is still open until the end of the week, I've already written the drafts for all three possible outcomes, just waiting on what you all decide. Thanks. :)

January 17th 2185 C.E.

Jessie's Pub / Illium

She's gone, I can't believe she's really gone. Downing another shot of what he assumed to be some sort of whisky, Henry Rodriguez slammed the now empty glass hard on the bar counter, shaking a few of the other glasses and plates lying around. It was still so hard to believe, and he probably would never believe, that seventeen thousand men, woman and children, plus an entire regiment of militiamen, were gone in the blink of an eye. He'd failed everyone back in Ferris Fields, all those good, caring people; Knowles, and most especially the love of his life—

Goddamn it. Closing his eyes, the former colonel of a now non-existent militia just replayed for what seemed like the thousandth time what had happened to them a few days ago, trying to find something he could've done right, anything that could've saved all those helpless souls. If only he could have just set up the LADAR transmitters earlier, if only he could have strengthened their radio links' encryption better.

If, if, if.

There were a lot of things he could've done differently at that time, but whenever he tried to think about it, which he's been doing a lot now ever since they broke orbit from the colony, all of his thoughts came to the same damn thing: everyone would still be taken. Even though a small part of him did acknowledge the fact that what had transpired on Ferris Fields couldn't be helped, the majority still refused to accept it; thinking that he should've seen this coming and prepared accordingly.

And now, everyone there had paid for his mistakes with their lives. For two days, ever since their departure from what used to be their home, he couldn't sleep, he couldn't think straight, and he couldn't eat. All of his thoughts would drift towards their latest engagement, the unknown race that had abducted an entire colonial settlement in what appeared to be less than an hour, and Therese.

Why did she have to get taken by those things? Why her?! Rodriguez instinctively gripped his glass harder, and he could hear the subtle sound of it cracking under tremendous pressure. Why would anyone harm such a sweet and loving person? His wife, along with his unborn baby girl, taken by those fucking things, and for what reason, he still didn't know. Why the fuck would they do such a thing—?!

The glass in his hand broke apart, its shattered pieces scattered all over the shiny, well-cleaned counter top, his hand bleeding from several different wounds. But he didn't notice the pain, nor did he care. He didn't give a damn about anything anymore, not since they took her. His grief was so great and beyond measure, it clouded everything there was about him. The guilt, the remorse, it was too much for him to bear. All those lives depended on him to keep them safe, and now they're gone, just like that.

"You okay there, buddy?" Opening his eyes, he focused it on the man in front of him from across the counter top, who was cleaning up the spilt ice and broken glass with a rag.

"Not really, no." Rodriguez softly replied after a few moments of relative silence, his eyes gazing on the damage he'd done earlier. "Sorry about that." The bartender just shrugged and gave him a smile.

"It's alright, looks like you've got a lot on your mind," The man ducked and grabbed something underneath the counter top and passed it to him, "here, take this, your hand's bleeding."

"What?" Looking down, he noticed that his right hand was bleeding profusely, with some of the glass just sticking closely to the wound. "Oh, thanks." Grabbing the paper towel, he gingerly started wiping off the blood on his hand, wincing a bit. A few of the pieces managed to embed itself a bit deeply into some of the lacerations, but he'll get to it later. Right now, he just wanted to clean up the mess on his hand and get it over with.

"How long was I here?" The former colonel asked, still wiping away on his hand.

"Let's see," the bartender started tapping his chin and looking upwards. "must've been about…say, seven hours now."

"That long?" Rodriguez was shocked, he hadn't realized he'd stayed here that long.

"Yep, you finished about two bottles of Gold Label Erasa. Hell, I can't even believe you're still standing. That asari-made scotch was pretty strong stuff."

"Huh." Was all Rodriguez had to say. Time really did fly past, and now that he realized it, everything around him started to sway, and his head felt as heavy as a damn rock. He was so consumed with his anguish that he hadn't noticed everything else. Grabbing his credit chit, he left a hundred credits, which was more than enough to cover for anything he had drank…and the glass that he'd broken. Standing up and saying his goodbye to the bartender, he placed his uninjured hand on the counter top to balance himself slowly, then headed towards the door.

Illium was a majestic planet, everywhere he looked he could see tall buildings everywhere that stood to almost about hundreds of feet in the air, its designs completely elegant in nature. As a classic garden world developed to serve as a bridge between the Terminus Systems and the Asari Republics, this planet's normally stringent customs laws, which were derived from Council space on product-safety-proscribed materials and sapient trafficking, are surprisingly relaxed. Officially though, Illium is not an asari world; as it is colonized and operated mostly by asari corporate interests. Giving it the same legal latitude enjoyed by the human corporate research enclaves of…some planet that was really cold, and had happened to be near the frontiers of salarian space. He forgot what that place was called, something beginning with a letter N. As for the rest of the planet's description, it happened to be really hot and massive, with the usual surface temperature reaching at a scolding sixty-three degrees Celsius. Ground settlements were only possible at the planet's higher latitudes; and in more equatorial locations, the population was housed in arcology skyscrapers to escape the extreme heat of the surface.

As a regional hub of asari commerce awash in riches, Illium was infamous for its abusive labor practices and legalization of nearly everything, except murder. As such, this place was the preferred production site of powerful high-grade weapons technology and pharmaceuticals that would be illegal nearly anywhere else, which was made even more lucrative by legal indentured servitude.

For a world that's renowned for its allure, luxury, and safety (which was provided by near-total surveillance), everything about this place disgusted Rodriguez. In here, people from all over the galaxy took advantage of everyone. Without regrets. or any remorse, just screwing everyone over for the sake of earning a few extra credits in unadulterated profits. It was basically the same as Omega, but laced with all the high-quality glitz and glamour.

His steps towards the hotel were getting more and more uncoordinated, and his balance completely impaired. He could feel his muscles becoming further relaxed as his face became completely flushed. I never should've drunk too much…

After five minutes of walking aimlessly on the streets of Nos Astra, he finally found the huge glowing neon sign that pointed him towards the place he wanted to go. He entered the hotel's luxurious lobby, seeing people laughing and enjoying themselves, having the time of their lives. It all reminded him of all those simpler and happier times at Ferris Fields, before those damned bugs made their move. Where everything was perfect, with Therese in his arms and—

Snap out of it, she's gone. He thought to himself, his mind unrelentingly bringing him back to the bitter grim of reality. Whenever he would drift back towards those moments, he would once again be reminded of how much he had screwed up big time, failing those people who counted on him to protect them.

Reaching the elevator, he pressed the button going up, after a few unsuccessful attempts which lasted about a few more seconds longer than usual. Look at yourself you sorry piece of shit, His consciousness said to him. What would she say if she saw you now?

Fuck you. He simply replied back.

As the doors opened, he pressed the door to his floor, riding for about a few seconds until he reached his destination. 5023…5024…5025…ah-hah! He grabbed the electronic key-card from his jacket pocket and placed it into the slot, where it rewarded him with a quick beep and a click as the door slid towards the side. The suite he and the rest of the guys occupied had about four rooms, and was fully provided with semi-luxurious furniture.

Going further inside, he saw Johnson and Walters in the suite's living room, just sitting on the couch watching the news on the holo-screen in front of them. As soon as he opened the door, both of their gazes focused on him, with the southerner's expression showing him that of amusement.

"Sir," the former lieutenant greeted him. "you look like shit."

"What?" Looking around his outfit to see anything that was out of the ordinary, he checked his clothes to see if there was something in it. There was nothing on the black leather jacket, no stains on the blue v-neck shirt he wore, and he couldn't find anything on the navy blue jeans he currently had on. For good measure, he even checked his leather shoes to see if there was anything on it. "I give up, what is it?"

Shaking his head in amusement, Johnson stood up from the couch and grabbed something in the table near him and went straight towards his CO and placed the object, which was a mirror, right in front of him.

"Here, take a look." Rodriguez saw himself, only, he couldn't see the usually clean shaven face, the sharp and proud gaze in his eyes, or even the well-kept hair he had just about a few days ago. Now, all he could see was his really unruly hair, the extremely blood shot eyes that were losing its once proud focus, and a stubble that hadn't been shaved in days from his reddened face.

He felt like he was looking into the reflection of a different person, and he could barely recognize the man he was already starting to become. This wasn't him, and at that moment, he could vividly recall with perfect clarity the last thing Therese had said to him, before he lost contact with her forever.

Take care of yourself.

Then, the realization hit him like a truck, and it scared the living hell out of him. He instantly took a few steps backwards—only to stumble carelessly because of his drunken state, his flailing hands striking a nearby table containing a vase filled with flowers, both of which went down on the ground beside him. Johnson and Walters quickly went to his aid, with the latter giving the former a harsh glare.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" The XO scolded his fellow officer.

"I was just trying to cheer him up," The southerner nervously explained as he went near his commander and grabbed an arm, while Walters took another, "I didn't expect this."

"Well, you should. You know better than that," The former major wrapped Rodriguez's arm around his neck, motioning for Johnson to do the same, "you know what he's been through, already." Both of them stood up from the ground and walked carefully towards the room meant for their superior officer. It took them quite the effort, seeing as how heavy the man was. After a few seconds worth of strenuous activity, they finally reached his room.

"Quick, grab his legs," Walters ordered, with the armored cavalryman acknowledging immediately as he went to pick up the limbs, both of them trying their hardest not to drop their overly wasted CO as they cautiously put him in the queen-sized bed. With that out of the way, Johnson headed towards the room's cabinets and took a blanket, spreading it evenly over his commander's body.

"Come on," The XO said, making his way towards the door, "he needs his rest." The two officers quietly exited the room and closed the door silently on their way out.

On the bed, Rodriguez was still reeling from the shock he had earlier. The extremely worn-down face he saw in his reflection earlier had somehow sobered him up a little, but it still wasn't much.

Know that whatever happens, I'm always going to be with you, okay? Therese's sweet, tender voice was floating inside the complex processes that was in his mind; he could still hear it with the same clarity as from the day he'd heard her say her last goodbye on the shuttle, during that fateful day. He could still picture her beautiful face, her fierce blue eyes that conveyed all the love she felt towards him, and her gorgeous wild, wavy brunette hair that just couldn't be tamed.

And once more, his mind brutally reminded him that she was now gone completely from his life, with those bug-eyed bastards doing God-knows what towards those poor people on some godforsaken place.

God, why? Why would you let this happen to her? His eyes start watering up again, and he could feel the tears freely streaming down on his face as he closed his eyes tight, shutting everything out. Why her, and not me…

His sobs were getting more and more frequent, until he started to break down completely, losing himself over the immense grief he had been carrying ever since he'd lost her, wailing loudly as he once again relived the anguish of his bereavement.

"Why?!" He screamed the word out at the top of his lungs, as he sat upright on his bed, his hands covering his face, as if trying to stop the tears from falling.

It felt like he was there for hours, just sitting there on his bed, crying his heart out. He had hoped to God, begged even, to not let those things take her. But still, they took her, those unrelenting four-eyed bugs that just abducted an entire colony without any specific reason or motive. Just swooping in from nowhere and taking everybody.

Suddenly, his heart began to ache excruciatingly from that thought, the sudden throbbing making him gasp for air, as he laid a hand on his chest; clutching the fabric of his shirt tightly around the area where it hurt the most. What the hell…?! After a few agonizing seconds later, the pain abruptly subsided and went away.

Still heavily breathing from the unexpected pain he just went through, Rodriguez slowly started to loosen his tight grip on his shirt and chest, trying to analyze what just happened. He never even had the chance to start. After almost two days of not sleeping, which was supplemented by the fact that he was totally inebriated and under a great deal of emotional trauma, he finally succumbed to his sheer exhaustion, unceremoniously landing his head on the pillow.

He could feel his eyelids starting to get heavy, trying to fight the drowsiness through sheer force of will, but lost. He went to sleep a few moments later. With his subconscious completely taking over, it bombarded his mind with the few precious moments he held dear in his life.

And at that night, ever since she was gone, God gave him a good dream.

"Hey, slow down. Where are you taking me?" Therese was taking him by the hand, leading him somewhere that was just beyond the outskirts of the colony. Whenever he asked where their destination was, all she ever said to him was that it was a surprise. This time was no different. When he asked for what seemed like the umpteenth time, she just gave him that sweet smile of hers and kept on walking, not revealing anything.

Ever since that wonderful night at Knowles' place, he asked her out the next day. Though it was sort of a spur of the moment kind of thing, he hadn't absolutely planned on what he was about to do next. Just thinking about how stupid he was about it made his skin go pale, his hands getting clammy as he had never thought that far ahead.

So the next day, as he was about to head out towards the clinic without any kind of plan at all, he was genuinely surprised when he saw Therese standing outside his door, wearing an outfit that was perfectly made for her. It wasn't a drop-dead gorgeous kind of thing. It was simple, a plain blue sundress with a calf-length skirt and a halter top. It showed off her pale, sculpted shoulders, while her chest was covered with a hint of cleavage, and her elegant curves all the more accentuated. Her brunette hair was flowed loose around those shoulders in all its wavy glory; and those surprisingly delicate feet of hers were encased in light strappy sandals, and she started to shift her weight from one foot to the other nervously.

Unbelievable.

Here was this beautiful woman, who came all this way to pick him up herself, nervous at the sight of him just wearing a plain windbreaker, a camo shirt, and a pair of jeans. Oh Dear God, his mind said to himself, its functions almost beginning to cease. She's flawless. Her pale blue eyes started to meet with his, and she shyly looked at the ground, her cheeks starting to blush.

"Hi." She softly said to him, her cute voice so alluring. At that moment, the major couldn't find the words to say to her, he so desperately wanted to tell her how amazing she looked on that dress, how it was definitely made for her.

"You look nice." Rodriguez said to her a few seconds later, after almost drooling at the sight of her. Are you freaking kidding me? Seriously? Was that all you had to say? He immediately chastised himself for saying something so incredibly stupid, but Therese just giggled, and he thought the sound of it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.

"You don't look so bad yourself," she said to him, "now come on, I gotta show you something."

Fast forward it forty-five minutes later, and here they were, starting their way towards the somewhat steep ascent of a hill overlooking the settlement. It took them a while to reach the summit, but they eventually did it without any further problems. The hill they were on was completely covered green with grass, which was miraculously soft enough to sit on. When they finally got comfortable enough, Rodriguez stared at the view that was just ahead of him.

It was an amazing sight. Ferris Fields in all of its full glory. While the prospect of looking at a bunch of pre-fabricated structures wasn't entirely his idea of a full-on romantic first date, this just felt really good, like all was right on the world. He could see the vehicles trekking their way towards their destinations on the main colonial highway, and the people bursting with activity on the courtyard that was just in front of the colony's head office. The twin stars just blazing freely in the orange sky, followed by the wind just giving off a cool breeze; this was perfect. He could just stare at this all day, and he wouldn't get bored.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Therese finally said to him after a few minutes' worth of comfortable silence, her eyes still on the majestic sight in front of them. Averting his gaze towards her, Rodriguez just stared at the wonderful woman beside him, feeling that he was the luckiest man alive to have even had the chance to meet such a perfect woman.

"Yeah, it really is." The major replied back, never even taking his eyes off of her. She broke off her stare to look at him, her cheeks blushing profusely when she realized he wasn't talking about the view.

And just like that, he never wanted that moment to end.

Waking up from his slumber with a crushing headache, Rodriguez sluggishly sat upright on his bed, his hand immediately clutching the side of his head. It felt like it was about to burst at any given moment, but he'd expected that. What he didn't expect though, was the memory he had on his first date with Therese flashing on his mind. Not that he was going to complain about it, after all, it was one of the best things that ever happened to him, and he swore to himself that he was going to treasure those few moments for as long as he lived.

The door in front of him slid open, revealing his XO, who was carrying with him a glass of water laced with two tablets of aspirin. He sat at the foot of his bed while handing him the glass, which he carefully took with both hands.

"You alright, sir?" Walters had asked, his voice filled with apprehension, not sure on how to tackle on the loss the former colonel had experienced.

"Yeah," Rodriguez answered back, surprised on how hoarse his voice was. He slowly chugged down the contents of his glass and handed it back to the former major. "how's Hadley and Cortez?"

"Cortez locked his room, won't let anyone in. We could hear him crying every few hours or so," The younger man took a deep breath, then continued: "as for Hadley, he still can't talk. Suzumi tried everything, but no luck so far."

"And Johnson?" At that, Walters just let out a slight smile before replying.

"He's pissed as hell, that's for sure. Said we should take the fight to those bugs as a freelance merc. Guy's definitely full of ideas." Rodriguez just let out a soft chuckle, relieving him of some of the stress he still had inside of him. He was glad that the hot-headed southerner was still himself. That was a small victory he could count on.

"What about you, Adrian?" The executive officer looked like he was a bit lost in thought for a second or so, then returned his gaze towards his commander.

"I definitely agree with Johnson, sir. But I'm not really warming up to the idea of becoming a merc."

"What do you think?"

"I was thinking of us enlisting in the Alliance Marines, sir." Walters said to him. "That way, we could have a huge chance of finding out who was behind the attack on Ferris Fields." The guy was right, as always. But Rodriguez wasn't entirely comfortable with the fact that his secret would probably be blown right out of the water if he ever thought about signing up. No one else knew about his secret existence here in the future, and the only person who had access to those highly encrypted files was Knowles, and he was already gone. Thinking about the older man pained him greatly. He was surely going to miss that stubborn bastard.

"What do you think, sir?" Walters asked him, breaking him away from his thoughts.

"I'll think about it," Rodriguez assured him. "for now, all of us needs to rest."

"Of course, sir." The XO stood up from the bed. "Whatever you need." Giving him a small smile, he headed towards the door and closed it, leaving him once again in his thoughts.

What was he going to do now? Should he follow Johnson's suggestion, about being a mercenary? Like his XO, he wasn't entirely sure that following the same path of some other random guy, who'll just be going after a shitload of credits to the highest bidder. But, at least they had the freedom to go and do whatever they please. Of course, he wasn't going to do it for the money. He and his men were better than that, after all.

Or should he follow Walters's advice? Sign up for the Alliance to have access to their abundant resources that could be used at his disposal. Problem was, his movements would be restricted, and he'd be bound to follow orders in the chain of command for as long they were there. He wasn't even going to think about the problems he would've had, if he signed up and his name would be flagged by the databases as part of a highly-classified file.

Or, he could maybe just follow Cortez's career as a fighter pilot just for the hell of it. Based on all the stories he'd heard from him, it wasn't a bad move to go over.

All of the choices, each of them bound with a different route to their future. The good news what that it would give him and the rest of the guys a purpose to surely follow, a reason to keep on living again, and a chance for redemption. He had failed everyone he ever knew back on Ferris Fields, and he wasn't planning on doing it again to the rest of the guys that were left, who still believed in him.

For Walters, Johnson, Hadley, Suzumi and Cortez.

He promised himself he'd never fail them ever again, not while he was still drawing breath. With his newfound strength, he stood up from his bed and headed towards the door.