A/N:

zzzQNzzz – Once again, thanks man. Yeah, I'm trying to make it as different as all the other S/I works out there.

Eromancer – As always, your opinion is greatly appreciated. You're right, for me, I always kinda thought rifles in this day and age have more kick than mass accelerators, as for its weight though, I think it can be managed. If they try to make it more heavier, it would be impractical, but I kinda figured since the protagonist is a soldier, a little weight is nothing he can't handle. As for your last point, I'll make sure to make the proper changes in the next chapter. Again, thanks for your opinion.

M. N. Arias – Well, you're in luck, buddy, I guess you'll see it soon enough.

corumb – Yeah, I kinda noticed that too. To satisfy your point, he is gonna meet Shepard, but not just yet, I wanna make sure he's established his presence here before going into a bunch of crazy-ass missions. Once more, thanks for taking the time to read this.

August 30th 2183 C.E.

Ferris Fields

It's been a few weeks now since Rodriguez first accepted command of the Ferris Fields Colonial Militia, influencing the three hundred and fifty-two men who made up its entirety. Training them to whichever way he pleased. It was a great honor, and a difficult task, nonetheless. But, he was committed to train this ragtag group of civilians and farmers into an efficient and deadly fighting force. Either way, no pressure…Yeah, right. He thought.

When he first saw the militia a day after their brief stint in the firing range, he was quite stunned as to see what he was training: lazy, complacent, bored, and indifferent people who were just sitting around the militia command post, playing games on their omni-tools, shoving food into their mouths, and some were even drinking booze on the job. Drinking! Who the hell drink's at a time like this! A day after that, he revisited the command post, displaying off the new, olive green militia fatigues he had just received, with his new rank proudly displayed in his collar and shoulder boards. The guys at the CP took one quick look at him, then resumed to whatever the hell it was they were trying to do. It pissed the private—no, it was major now—off almost immediately. With a deep breath, he quickly started screaming at the group of self-satisfied, sad excuse of soldiers in front of him, conveying his disgust and repulsion at them. The results were almost instantaneous. Men were quickly standing at attention, hell; even the drunk ones stood—right before one of them just plain collapsed on the ground.

After which, he quickly implemented a rigorous training exercise patterned after the one he had experienced back during basic: four kilometer runs every day, complemented with intense hand-to-hand combat drills, a few hours at the firing range, and a stretch at the command post to teach them the basics of military tactics and maneuvers. It was hard work. During the first few laps of the run, men were practically doubling over, panting heavily, and tripping at basically everything, clearly out of shape. He further let loose another string of obscenities that quickly put most of them back in place. At the firing range, it was even more of a disgrace. Most—if not all—were missing their targets completely and their shots splayed wide. Once again, he had to teach them the basics of proper rifle handling and positioning, which he emphasized with a few screams here and there. There were some people who were quickly learning and getting their shots properly downrange, not as good as he was mind you, but still acceptable however. The worst of what could possibly happen was inside one of the CP's conference rooms, during their first learning sessions, where he was teaching a bunch of officer potentials about tactics. When he started throwing terms like, "flanking" or "fire and maneuver" or even "suppression", one of his would-be officers raised his hand and asked, "Sir, what's a flank?"

That was pretty much the nail in the coffin, the sharp pointy stick that was struck in his heart if he was ever a vampire. With a deep sigh, he shook his head and gave himself a not-so-subtle face palm. This is fucking ridiculous. So again, he tried teaching the "basic" basics of military tactics, such as the "Rule of Three", where three men made a fire team, three fire teams made a squad, three of them a platoon and so on.

So this was what they were basically doing for the past few weeks, just running for a few kilometers, close-quarters combat training, shooting at the range, and slightly long hours at the command post for a long overdue lesson about the military. They were quickly improving too, where the progress was speaking for itself. They were getting used to the runs, their stints at the range somewhat improving their aim, and had a better, if not, slight understanding of military tactics. And all it took was a little screaming. No one wonder every drill sergeant in the world did this, it was basically standard procedure. Knowles would stop by every once in a while to check up on him, making small talk or something like that, to which he surprisingly welcomed. He was actually good company. The middle-aged man was likewise also impressed with his work, saying that he was seeing something like that from an Alliance boot camp.

Now, after three weeks of intense hard work, it was finally paying off. In a way, they were sort of graduating, all of them clearly reminding him of himself once upon a time. All three hundred fifty-two of them were in front him, standing at attention, wearing their militia fatigues proudly and honorably on this fine afternoon. A few weeks ago, they would've been just wearing those just to look cool along with holding a gun. But not today, it would seem. At this moment, they felt like they've earned their right to wear it with pride. After addressing them about the virtues of strength, honor, and courage, his mind was at a blank. Should I give them some sort of speech? He pondered for a moment. Some of the nearby colonists stopped whatever it was they were doing and watched them at a distance, their gaze shifting from him towards the recruits. Then, the civilian crowd started to grow, from a handful of people to a sizable crowd, which all the more made Rodriguez nervous. Ah, fuck it. With a deep breath, he addressed his men one more time.

"Men, when I first saw you, you were practically a disgrace: drinking, playing games, eating a shit load of junk food. Hell, I even remember Sergeant Litovski standing at attention for one moment, then passing out the next." The battalion gave out a hearty laugh, and the man in question, Staff Sergeant Ivanoff Litovski, looked down on the ground, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment. Rodriguez continued his speech. "But nonetheless, I'm proud of each and every one of you. For not just living up to my standards, but exceeding your own. For that, I wish you luck and God bless. Now, return to your posts for further reassignment. Dismissed." He gave out a crisp salute, from which the battalion returned in kind. After that was done, the major did an about face and walked away from his men, heading towards the direction of the militia HQ.

From a lowly private to a major commanding battalion in just a few weeks, the world—no, the galaxy—really must be ending. He thought to himself for a moment and grinned at the thought. It's been almost a month since he first arrived here, and now that he's given some thought about it, he wasn't really that troubled with the fact that he was transported almost two hundred years into the future anymore. Sure, it could take some time getting used to, with all the change in everything he had experience before, but he almost didn't mind at all. Before he arrived here, there wasn't anything at all that was worth mourning from where he came from.

His entire family had all been killed, following an aerial surprise attack launched by the Chinese, shooting down their airliner over at the South China Sea during the opening phase of the war. He didn't really have that much friends before he joined the military, and most of the ones he had known were killed when Bravo Company got its ass decimated at Scarborough Shoal. Girlfriend? I wish. He hasn't had one since birth, literally. Sure, he had a few crushes every once in a while, but he figured that he wasn't really that good enough to act up on them. He was just a lowly grunt, after all. Not today, though.

After walking for the better part of five minutes, he arrived at the militia HQ, which was just a single story building like those from the rest of the colony. There wasn't anything really special about it though, it had a single small-sized satellite dish which gave him the ability to coordinate the militia and everything. Some few sandbag positions with a couple of LMGs and their gunners, a patrolling Mako infantry fighting vehicle accompanied by a team of soldiers, but other than that, there wasn't anything worth noting. He went straight to his office and sat down at the chair behind his desk, powering up the computer terminal in front of him in order to come up with the militia's new patrol rotations.

The militia was composed of a single battalion, which was evenly divided into three infantry companies, Alpha through Charlie, each of them were supported by a contingent of light armor and specialized engineer platoons that could set up turrets, drones and everything in between to back them up. Each of the company's officers were exclusively handpicked by him personally, based on their performance, skill, initiative, and their results during the mock war game simulation he had prepared for them a few days ago that was accomplished just before their graduation. All companies were assigned a certain patrol area of about ten square kilometers each, that was just a few kilometers out of the settlement's main perimeter. Once there, they had to inspect their area of responsibility thoroughly, scouting for anything out of place or anything that could endanger the colony. He also set up their rotations to work in shifts accordingly, where each of the company would be sent in turn with another set in reserve after their initial shift was over; for any emergency to respond to on short notice.

He was so immersed in his work that he didn't notice the door to his office open, revealing a rather familiar face that he expected was the last person he would ever had the chance of seeing again: Doctor Therese Watkins. Her sudden appearance surprised the major, who jumped figuratively about a foot into the air. "Oh, ma'am, sorry, didn't you see there." He embarrassedly replied, subconsciously scratching the back of his head.

"It's quite alright, Henry," she replied, give out a rather cute grin. "Sorry for scaring you though."

"It's fine, ma'am." He answered back, smiling in return. He was so stunned by her sudden arrival that he hadn't had the chance of seeing what she wore: a fitting white v-neck shirt, with a simple pair of jeans that accentuated her lowly curves. In other words, she looked, well, beautiful. Focus man! He quickly regained his senses, faced Watkins, and asked, "What bring you here, ma'am?"

"How many times am I gonna remind you, Henry, it's just Therese." She playfully reminded him. Rodriguez just gave her a smile of his own. Every time they saw each other, this was what they usually did. Their playful banter centering around the major's refusal to call her by her first name, which the young man still felt he hadn't earned yet. But, he felt he was finally coming close.

"I'll work on that, ma'am." He said, practically grinning from ear to ear. Therese just gave him a playful swat on the arm.

"Anyways," the young woman said. "Patrick wanted everyone from the colony's council to come to his place to celebrate the militia's completed training. He asked if you wanted to come along. Well?"

"Yeah, sure. Just let me finish up here." Rodriguez said, as he went to conclude the militia's new assignment and shut his terminal down. "Shall we?"

"Whatever, let's go soldier-man." She told him, which gave both of them a whole-hearted laugh out of it. They went outside the militia HQ, where the sky was already darkening from the twin-stars' departure. It's evening already? Jesus, I must've been that busy. They rode into the doctor's rovers and sped off towards the direction of Patrick Knowles' residence. As they rode, the major gazed his head upwards to admire the stars above. If here back home, he could've vaguely see them, mostly due to the city's light pollution and the partial smog that obscured the skies. Here, you could see them in all their glory. Since he was literally billons of miles away from home, all the constellations he had come to know and admire were gone. Oh, well…

"So," Watkins said, trying to break the silence while driving. "Now that your grunts are ready, what're you planning on doing with them?"

"Just patrolling the colony's perimeter, mostly," he explained to her. "You never know whatever it is that's lurking out there."

"Yeah, this deep into the Terminus Systems, anything can happen." She replied to him, turning the vehicle left to overtake one of the colony's large transport trucks, this particular one filled with grain. "Ever miss where you're from, Henry?" The major thought about her question for a few moments. Should I tell her the truth? Or come up with some plausible bullshit story? Well, might as well give out some partial truth…

"Not really, no." he answered simply.

"Why?" she asked him again, this time her voice was laden with genuine curiosity and concern.

"Honestly? There wasn't really anything worth missing back home. I had no family and friends, and the military was the only thing that gave me purpose to get up in the morning." He clarified this to her more. "And after ending up here, though, I guess I found a new reason to care, you know?"

"What about, you know, your girlfriend then, I'm sure she'd mind you going missing." she questioned him, and he could've sworn that she was blushing when she said that, but he wasn't really that sure.

"Never had one, actually." And to that, Rodriguez just laughed, she looked kinda cute when she saw her fluster for moment there earlier. But then again, maybe his mind was just letting him see things. Either way, he was liking her even more. They rode for about four minutes or so until they saw the head of the colony's modest estate ahead. Like the rest of the colony's structures, this one was a single story building, but a bit larger than the rest to signify his status as the colony's de facto leader. Nobody minded, of course, he was good at what he did in making Ferris Fields prosper, so he was entitled to some little comfort.

"We're here." Watkins told him a few moments later, parking her rover in front of Knowles' residence. They both exited the vehicle and went inside the house. There was nothing really special inside, really. The interior was just like everyone else's, a sofa here, a holo-monitor there, a table with chairs on it, a modest kitchen and a couple of design elements that provided some semblance of making this place homey.

"Well, lookey here." Rodriguez heard a voice behind him speak. He didn't need to guess as to who it belonged to. Turning around, he was rewarded with the sight of Patrick Knowles, wearing a simple colony jumpsuit and his ever present baseball cap. Clutched in one of his hands was a bottle of champagne and two crystal glasses in the other. "Fancy meeting you here, Major." The older man told him with a toothy grin.

"I kinda figured you needed the company, Pat." The major replied to the older man, smiling as he does.

"Don't just stand there, Henry boy, follow me. Crowd's right here." He led both the major and the doctor towards the house's backyard.

"Damn good job you did, Major." Rodriguez was shaking the hand of a stranger, which Therese mentioned to him, was the head of the colony's heavy industry. All the young man could do was smile, shake his hand back with a firm grip, and pretend to know the guy. There were about fifteen other people in the backyard of Knowles' house, each and every one of them in charge of the colony's overall department. There was one guy here who was the head of irrigation, another one in charge of hydroponics, and a woman who made sure that most of the colony's power grid remained operational. In short, all of them important people, the lives of which he was in charge of protecting. Still, the major was touched. All of them took a break from their tight schedules and came here to congratulate his success in completing the militia's training.

The affair wasn't really that spectacular, which Rodriguez appreciated. The last thing he needed was to be in some sort of social gala where he needed a smile plastered in his face wherever he went. Hell, this wasn't even that much of a party. It was more like a normal get together, were Knowles was cooking something over his grill, something about making varren steaks. Whatever the hell that was. Still, it was actually cool for them to have this sort of thing. All of them here were really pleasant company, where they were just chilling, having a few drinks, and talking about anything other than work, whether it was the planet's weather, sports, and current events. One event in particular was in heavy discussion, and he decided to listen in on whatever it was they were talking about.

"Did you hear about what happened to the Citadel?" one man asked another.

"No, what happened?" the other asked back.

"The geth tried to launch a full-scale invasion, where there was this one dreadnought of theirs that tore through the Citadel Fleet like it was nothing."

"You're shittin' me," a third man exclaimed. "There's no way that could've happened! Have you seen how big the Destiny Ascension is? Its guns could outclass every ship that's out there!"

"No, I'm telling ya, it happened alright." The man who started the discussion told them.

"How the hell would you know that, anyway?" the second man questioned him.

"I've got a friend who's with the Alliance at Arcturus Station, said that the entire Fifth Fleet was mobilized and sent to assist the Council races, half of their ships got wiped out trying to take out that geth dreadnought that was spearheading the assault. Eight cruisers gone," the first man snapped his fingers to emphasize his point. "just like that."

"Jesus Christ," the third man said out loud. "When was this?"

"About a couple of weeks ago, I think."

"Damn, what happened to the Council's fleet?" a fourth man joined in.

"The turians lost about twenty of their cruisers, the asari got most of their frigates annihilated, and I heard the salarians lost just one frigate. Just one!" the man cried out.

Before Rodriguez could listen in further on the group's discussion, he felt a slight tap on his right shoulder. Turning around, he saw Therese Watkins, champagne glasses on both hands, and a smile firmly in place. She extended her right hand and gave one of the champagne glasses to him and clinked it with hers. "Cheers." She said, before chugging her glass' contents.

Rodriguez just smiled, this girl was unbelievable. Without a moment to lose, he up ended his own glass and downed his drink in one swig. He could still taste the sweet, yet bitter tang of strawberries in the champagne. Still, it tasted good. Must've been expensive.

"So," she said, with a slight glint in her eyes. "how's the man of the hour?" Rodriguez just chuckled at that. He could've sworn that she was slurring with her words, but as always, he wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

"I'm fine ma'am, what about you?" he asked back.

"Just great, actually," she responded ecstatically. "The champagne's great! Lost count on how many glasses I've had." I stand corrected. The major thought to himself. The good 'ole doctor here had too much to drink. As she stood to get herself another drink, Rodriguez stopped her, gently putting his hand on her shoulder.

"Whoa, ma'am, where do you think you're going?" The major asked her good-humoredly.

"What? I'm just thirsty, that's all." She told him back with a sly grin, as she stood up again to head towards the beverage table. Jesus, she's as stubborn as I am. For the second time around, the major grabbed one of her arms smoothly, and cleared his throat. Therese stopped in mid-step and faced him, her blue eyes staring at his.

"I think that's enough booze for one day, wouldn't you agree on that ma'am?" he reminded her, with a smile to let her now that he was half-serious. She grumbled something unintelligible then sat back down, her arms crossed as she was pretending to be frustrated.

"Fine," she said, her voice still cheerful. "Only because you're that good-looking—" she added without thinking. When she realized her mistake, her eyes widened, and she placed her hand on her mouth as if to prevent telling the words that already came. "What I meant was…you—you know…uh, it's kinda hard to explain…and, uh…" as she tried to explain further, her cheeks were starting to blush with the red of embarrassment, clearly sobering her up. Rodriguez just sat there, his facial expression still neutral after her initial outburst. Then after about a few seconds or so, he started laughing, nearly doubling over the chair from which he was sitting on.

"At ease, ma'am," he told her in between laughs. "I guess you really had too much to drink." Therese just sat there, both of her hands in her lap, her head still looking down with her cheeks still blushing from her earlier revelation. Aww, she looks so cute. The major just sat there across from her, his gaze still locked on to her face. Shoulder length brunette hair, perfectly sculpted face, and those thin lips of her…What most captivated the private about her were those pale, baby blue eyes. He could stare at them all day and he still wouldn't get enough.

As Rodriguez held his gaze on her eyes, the doctor suddenly looked up, her own eyes meeting his, both of them not saying anything as they just sat there in comfortable silence. With that, she gave out a smile, this one different from all the others ones she'd given him, where this one pretty much told him everything she felt about him; admiration, adoration, appreciation…something even more, maybe? He couldn't tell, but right now, he didn't want this moment to end.

"What?" she said to him, her eyes still on his.

"You really think I'm good-looking, ma'am?" he told her teasingly, one of his eyebrows raised to emphasize his point even further.

"Oh, shut up." She told him back lightheartedly. Both of them laughed at that for about a minute or two. But, as much he wanted to continue talking further, he knew he still had something to talk to Knowles it.

"Hey, have you seen Knowles around?" he asked her. The look on her face changed for a second there, her expression a bit crestfallen, then returning back to its cheerful disposition. That practically made Rodriguez guilty for having to go look for the middle-aged man.

"I think he's over at the roof, somewhere. Something about clearing his head." She explained to him.

"Great, I'll be right back, though. Don't you go anywhere." He told her right before showing off a big grin. Should I? She practically might mistake it for something else…Oh, fuck it. Without holding back, he leaned in, gave her a quick peck on the cheek, then left quickly searching for Knowles. Before he left though, he saw the young woman blush furiously then giving off one of her trademark smiles. I could get used to this. His grin still firmly etched on his face.

As he wandered inside the older man's house for a minute or two, he saw the ladder that led him towards the roof and climbed on it. A few seconds later, he was there, seeing Knowles leaning on one of the roof's railings with a drink on one of his hands. The middle-aged man saw him climb up and nodded to him, smiling as he did so. He went to him, slowly walking towards the older man.

"Beautiful, ain't it?" Knowles just said out loud, his head clearly gazing up on the clear skies above, were the stars were basically just showing off and twinkling in all its brilliance. The major couldn't help but agree on his statement.

"Yeah," he told him back, his own head turning upwards. "it sure is." They stayed silent for a few minutes, their heads just looking up, taking in the magnificent view that was just up ahead. For a moment, the major just forgot all his troubles: his family's death, his friends' last stand at the Shoal, his sudden leap in towards the future. Everything, just plain vanished. Still looking up, what clearly was on his mind was Therese. He couldn't stop thinking about her. She was smart, charming, funny as hell, and she was beautiful, not just in looks to, there's just something about her that makes him feel all gooey inside. Gooey? Sheeeit, something must be definitely wrong with me.

"So," he heard Knowles voice next to him. "what bring you here, Major?" He lowered his head and faced the older man, whose expression of happiness and contentment was still remaining in place. Wonder what this old bastard's happy about…

"I just wanted to ask about my files in the databases," he began inquiring. "if you could gain access to them, what's stopping some other curious guy from doing so?" Knowles just let out a bellowing laugh for a few seconds right before regaining his composure.

"I have it covered, son," the middle-aged man assured him confidently. "so don't you worry about a thing."

"If you don't mind me asking Pat, how?" Rodriguez questioned him ardently; ever since he got here and found out that Knowles knew about him simply because he typed in his name on some search bar, the thought of others finding out about his identity kept him up on most nights. I mean if this guy could do it, why not the others? Besides, if Pat could guarantee his identity was still kept a secret, he wanted to know how he did it.

"I know a guy who used to be part of Alliance Intelligence," Knowles told him softly. "me and him go way back, and he owes me a few favors. Anywho, guy's the best hacking and encryption specialist I know, and I got him to get your file heavily encrypted and kept classified ever since our little talk in my office. High security clearance too, nobody can take a peek at it." Seriously? Just…wow, did he really do that for me? The young man was curious as to why he would do this for him, and that was exactly what he would ask.

"Why would you do that for me, Pat? You barely even know me." With that, the older man once again just chuckled lightly.

"Figured about time you already earned my trust, kid." He simply told him. "And I trust you completely to keep this colony safe." If Rodriguez wasn't mistaken, this guy actually meant what he said, which actually made him all the more grateful towards the old geezer.

"Thanks." Was all the major could say to him. Once again, they just sat there and continued looking at the stars for a few moments, but then the young man forgot something that he still needed to attend to. "Anyways, I gotta go, old-timer. Got something I gotta take care of." As he headed towards the ladder, he heard Knowles bellow out another laugh, which made him all the more curious as to what the reason is. "What?"

"Just treat her right, son, that's all I ask." He told him humbly. What the hell is he talking about? Ohh, riiiight. I think he knows. Well…time to feign ignorance.

"What the hell are you talking about, Pat?" the young man asked him, hoping to misdirect him with something he could come up with.

"Can it, Romeo. I saw what you did down there," he said smugly. Oh shit, he knows! And he saw! The old man just grinned continuously, but then he went on: "About damn time, too. You know, she never did shut up about you ever since you got here." With that, he kept laughing once more. Rodriguez just stood there, feeling his cheeks blush quickly. Goddamn it, Pat! Without saying a word, he turned around and went for the ladder, Knowles laughter following him as he goes.

As he arrived back at the backyard, he saw it was almost empty, only a few people remained out of the original fifteen that first got here. Where is she…? Ah! There. He saw Doctor Watkins ahead about a few yards away, leaning at the railing that showed her a magnificent view of the colony of Ferris Fields. He approached towards her slowly, thinking about all the things he was going to say, and hoping to God he wouldn't mess it up, somehow. Knowing Murphy's Law, that might bound to happen anyway. Damn it, man! Focus, you are going to tell him how you feel, and you are going to succeed. His mind confidently reminded him. Taking a few more deep breaths, he slowly closed the distance between them. As he went near her, Therese turns around and sees him approach, giving out one of her damn irresistible smiles.

He felt his heart race quickly, his mouth going dry, and his stomach doing something he couldn't possibly understand. Just tell her…stuff…wait, what?! As he stood beside her, he opened his mouth to say everything he had come up with in his mind earlier. But instead of words coming out, there was only silence. All the stuff he had planned on saying died down on his throat. You gotta be fucking kidding me, so much for confidence. Fuck! "I—I'm…uh, well…you know…" he stammered slowly, his words still stuck down on his damn throat.

Next to him, Therese just stood there patiently, her own eyes locked on with his. But this time there wasn't anything else that was gonna ruin this moment. All of it felt so right, yet he hadn't had a clue on what to do next. Though he wanted to tell her badly how he felt about her, but the words just wouldn't form up, and his mind was basically out of service, making the young man unable to make a single coherent thought.

Watkins just giggled for a few moments, clearly enjoying the major's apparent nervousness. So she just did the last thing he quite expected for her to do; she went closer to him, her hands on both of his soldiers and gave him a slow, lingering, kiss on his cheek. Rodriguez stood frigid for a moment, not a single muscle twitching for movement, staying rock solid for a few seconds or so, not realizing that we was holding his breath. No way, that sneaky little minx…

"You just had to do that, didn't you?" he finally told her, surprised at himself for finally finding his voice.

"Well," she said to him, a sly grin forming on the corners of her mouth. "you started it, figured it was time to for payback." The major took hold of one of her hands, intertwining it with his own, and gave it a gentle squeeze. Right now, he was the luckiest man in the world—screw the galaxy, it's not his place to give a damn about it. Rodriguez thought about all the shit he had to endure just to get here, but right now, he was thankful it had all happened. Regardless, it still gave him some small measure of a happy ending.

For now, anyways.

Awww, hahaha. I always suck at writing something normal. Oh well, one last happy ending before the shit hits the fan. :)

-Rookie571