A/N:

HEY GUYS! SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE, HAD A BIT OF WRITER'S BLOCK ON HOW TO CLOSE THIS PARTICULAR CHAPTER. BUT DON'T WORRY, FINALLY GOT TO FINISH IT. ENJOY! :)

January 15th 2185 C.E.

Ferris Fields outskirts / somewhere above the Ivory Valley

"Robert!" Both Rodriguez and Cortez answered back in unison, but it was the latter who continued on in the conversation.

"Are you alright? Where are you? Are you safe? What's—" the ex-Alliance pilot kept on rambling before Robert cut him off on the other end of the line.

"I'm fine, Steve." The man assured him with a soothing tone. "Those aliens haven't found us yet, but they're giving the colony hell."

"Us?" Rodriguez decided to join in on the conversation, the immense worry he had for his home having tripled after Robert's revelation.

"Yeah, I'm with Therese right now, we managed to get out of the clinic, with the help of a militia company that was setting up just outside where we were." And just like that, the colonel sighed greatly with pure relief, not knowing that he was holding his breath the entire time while he was listening in. All the worry and stress that was building up inside of him earlier was now completely and utterly gone. Thank you Jesus, thank you Lord, thank you, thank you…He mentally thanked the Almighty with every grateful gesture he could think of. That lasted for about a minute. For now, with his wife safe for the meantime, he had to focus on what just happened to Ferris Fields.

"Thank God." the young colonel said on the radio, just adding a bit more further praise to the Big Guy upstairs before heading straight into business. "Rob, what the hell's going on? Why can't we contact the rest of the militia?"

"I don't know exactly," Robert began explaining to them. "but I bet it has something to do with those swarms of tiny little insects that are overrunning the rest of the colony."

"What?" Rodriguez asked him, a bit confused to where this was leading. "What the hell's that got to do with the communications blackout? And more importantly, why can we still talk to you on a normal frequency when I can barely contact my regiment on a secure one?"

"We'll get to that," Robert guaranteed to him. "but those tiny insects I just mentioned earlier? They're completely bad news."

"Why is that?" Cortez inquired while his hands were still on the shuttle controls.

"Their stinging everyone they can get their hands on with some sort of paralytic compound, completely immobilizing its victims. After which, the bigger four-eyed bugs stuffs them in some sort of pod, and they've already taken some of the colonists into their huge ship that's hovering just above the center of the colony."

"Son of a bitch." The colonel quietly swore. "Rob, what about the militia? I heard some heavy fighting earlier but why can't I hear them fighting back anymore?" He could hear Robert sigh sadly on the other end of the line. He already could tell he wasn't going to like what he was going to hear.

"They're gone, Henry." The man said softly on the comm line. "Everyone that's still inside Ferris Fields is gone." Rodriguez laid his head low, still struggling with the fact that over eighteen thousand men, woman and children were never going to see tomorrow again, and were now completely lost to their unknown enemy. Holy Mother of God. He solemnly thought to himself. An entire colonial settlement gone, just like that. Focusing whatever willpower he had left in him, the young colonel placed his already mounting guilt and remorse to a dark corner of his mind and focused to the task at hand. Right now, they still had two people out there in need of rescue, and he was going to make sure he was going to do just that without his personal feelings in the way. He knew they were going to come back and haunt him sooner or later.

"Okay, Robert, what's your position? And again, why can we still talk to you on an unsecured line?"

"We're just outside the colony's eastern outskirts, on the hill overlooking the rest of Ferris Fields; we're putting some distance away from them." The colonel could hear the man panting tiredly as he paused to catch his breath. "As for the miraculous connection, I'm guessing the farther away we are from those tiny bugs, the better." Robert let out a tired laugh after that."Thank Christ I actually got that one right."

"No kidding. Now Rob, listen here real quick." Rodriguez said to the radio sternly. "Avoid enemy contact at all costs, we're comin' to you, alright?"

"You got it, Henry. Don't take too long now, you hear? Over and out." And with that, the link was disconnected. The colonel faced the ex-Alliance fighter jock.

"How long till we reach them?"

"ETA, seven minutes and forty-five seconds." Cortez calmly said to him, his laser-like focus and determination never wavering as he coolly struggled to control his damaged shuttle. The thought of Robert in grave danger must've made him realize that a single mistake from him could cost the man he loved his life, and Rodriguez wasn't about to disturb him out of his steely resolve. It all depended on their skilled pilot now, and the colonel hoped to God that their somewhat precarious luck would somehow still hold.

He turned around and went straight into the Kodiak's passenger compartment, where the four other survivors were now in their seats, the wounded personnel nursing whatever injuries they had received from the battle earlier with tender, loving care. He saw Suzumi examining his right shoulder, where he said it got struck with a high-velocity rifle round that went cleanly through his hardsuit's armor, and next to him, Johnson was swabbing some antiseptic on Walters' neck, the XO was hissing out in pain and was struggling every time the southerner tried to treat the wound.

"Damn it, stop moving!" The armored cavalryman hissed out in frustration. "You're not exactly helping out here." The executive officer just muttered something unintelligible under his breath and proceeded to keep his mouth shut while trying his best not to wince every time the antiseptic made contact with the graze on his neck. So far, he wasn't succeeding.

Next to the struggling pair was Private Hadley, who was just slumping in his seat, his hands slowly gripping the overhead guard that was clinging to his chest. He had a withdrawn look on his face, his eyes gazing out far ahead, focusing out of nothing in particular. Rodriguez knew that look all too well. The infamous thousand-yard stare.

Nearing the young militiaman, the colonel sat next to him, where the private was still totally oblivious to his presence. "Private?" Rodriguez said to the kid, his eyes focusing on the younger man in front of him. The kid's medium-grade hardsuit was practically filled with specks of dirt, blood and bullet grazes that nicked several areas of his suit. Dents where all over, and the paint that was once immaculately spread all over, was now nothing more than a shabby coat of scratches and scuff marks.

This kid had been through hell, and losing his close friend probably only made it worse. "George?" The colonel said to him again, this time slightly shaking his shoulder to get his attention. It worked, and the private broke out of his momentary daze, slowly facing him. What he saw in Hadley's eyes was completely heartbreaking, seeing nothing more in there than complete and utter sadness, mixed with a little hopelessness and defeat. The poor bastard was probably still reeling from the loss of his buddy, and the fact that they had to leave him behind still troubled Rodriguez greatly. "You okay, buddy?"

Hadley just sat there, staring at him for just a few more seconds before he started to nod slowly, and then looked away. Sensing that it was probably all he could get out of him, the colonel just sighed worriedly, patting the poor kid's back before standing up and headed towards his XO. Not everyone was cut out to be soldiers, and once they do actually experience combat first hand, it'd definitely change you; either for the best, which would make you harden your resolve in the face of constant danger, or for the worse, which would most definitely leave you traumatized and scarred for the rest of your life. As for the young private, Rodriguez appraised that it most certainly did have an impact on the militiaman's mental well-being, and he had hoped that it wouldn't affect the seventeen year-old for as long as he lived.

"You alright there, sir?" Walters asked him, breaking him out of his thoughts. Facing him, he saw his executive officer clutching a makeshift bandage on his neck, which was laced with what little medi-gel they had left. Taking a seat next to him, Rodriguez just willed himself to relax, but for now, it definitely wasn't working.

"Yeah, I'm fine, major." The colonel answered back softly. "Just a bit worried about Hadley, that's all."

"We all are, sir." The major said to him. "Losing Private Alekseyev took quite a toll on him, and he's been like that ever since he came back from the firefight you guys were in." Rodriguez took another gaze in Hadley's direction, still seeing the kid in his somewhat endless looking thousand-yard stare.

"Kid's been through a lot lately." Rodriguez agreed with the man. "And he's already exhibiting signs of combat stress reaction."

"What? What're you talking about?" Walters asked in a curious tone.

"Look at him, he's fatigued, has a slow reaction time, and is disconnected from his nearby surroundings. He's got all the symptoms, Adrian." The major couldn't help but agree to his commanding officer's assessment on the man in question. Combat stress reaction was generally a short-term ailment, but if he was still generally exposed to other traumatizing stimuli, it would practically lead to other long-term psychological problems, like acute stress disorder or PTSD. Either of which was certainly not going to be good in the long run.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." The major conceded. "According to Corporal Suzumi, Hadley and Alekseyev were real close, both of them signed up for Basic at the same time, and before that they've known each other for three years. Must be hell on his part." Walters said the last sentence almost like a whisper, and had added a bit more emotion into it than he should have. The colonel could only guess that his XO could probably relate to the younger militiaman's situation. And with that, Rodriguez just grunted in agreement, not exactly knowing what else to say, other than thinking just how unfair life was to people like Walters, Hadley, and the rest of the colonists back at Ferris Fields.

What exactly did we do to deserve this kind of punishment? The colonel asked himself in his thoughts. His entire regiment, the colony, everyone he knew, gone in less than thirty minutes. How was that even possible?

Closing his eyes, Rodriguez once again focused on his efforts to relax, trying to gather all of his thoughts on what to do next. If ever they'd somehow manage to miraculously survive this onslaught and escape, he absolutely had no idea on where to go.

A slight beeping sound was heard, forcing the colonel to open his eyes and put a stop on his mind's rampant thoughts. Near him, the once inactive holo-projector sprang to life again, and Rodriguez focused his gaze on its holographic circular interface, which was showing streams of unidentified sensor data, scattered information packets, and an unidentified presence hacking into Ferris Fields colonial mainframe and—wait, what?! Rubbing both of his tired eyes to ascertain if he was seeing it right, he looked at it again, trying to make sure if his mind wasn't any playing tricks on him. It was still there. And according to the projections, it showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.

Next to him, Major Walters was taking a quick nap, completely oblivious to the situation at hand. He decided to fix that.

"Major," Rodriguez shook his XO's shoulder. "wake up." The man instantly woke up from his touch and faced his commanding officer, his eyes a bit bloodshot and tired. "Take a look at this."

Walters grunted in the affirmative, stretching his arms and his fingers before manning the holo-projector once more. His brows furrowed as his fingers expertly ran through the complex operating systems to make sense of why they were trying to access the colony's mainframe. It took him about a few seconds before he was rewarded with the results, and after seeing it first-hand, the major's tired eyes widened considerably while his hands slightly shook.

"What is it?" The colonel asked him worriedly.

"They're deleting everything," The major replied softly. "sensor logs, camera footage, atmospheric data, LADAR readings, everything. It's like they're completely covering their tracks." Rodriguez just sat there, his own eyes widening with shock, as he was stunned at the revelation. You've got to be fucking kidding me. Without the mainframe's databanks that were filled with the unidentified hostile race's recorded actions, they had no proof whatsoever to show to the Alliance or the Citadel Council on what had happened here. And even if they went ahead and explained everything without any clear evidence, the higher-ups would just probably laugh at them and dismiss their claims. And that was completely and utterly unacceptable, and the colonel knew it. He regained his composure and decided to do something about it.

"What about our helmet's vid-cams?" Rodriguez asked. "Don't they run on a separate system?"

"Uh, lemme take a look…" Walters fingers danced on the device for a few moments or so before responding. "Yeah, I guess that can work. Our hardsuit's miniframes hasn't been compromised yet and—what the hell?!" The major suddenly swore as the holo-projector's glowing interface shifted away from its original calming orange to a dangerous crimson red. "Oh, you've gotta be fuckin' kidding me!"

"What just happened?"

"Bastards just uploaded a virus on our miniframes' wireless networks," The XO angrily explained as he kept on operating the device. "they've wiped out the databanks clean. There's nothing left and—" Without warning, the holo-projector's interface suddenly began sputtering, turning off and on unpredictably for about a few seconds before it completely shut down. Walters just let out a defeated sigh. "Their goes our holo-projector."

"Goddamn it!" Rodriguez swore at the top of his lungs before furiously throwing his combat helmet to the shuttle's metal floor. Everyone inside the passenger compartment flinched. For all the years they've known their commanding officer, not once had they seen him lose his cool, calm persona.

Still seated, the colonel rested his elbows on his legs as his hands covered most of his face. This feeling of utter helplessness was something he had only experienced once before, and that was the time during his supposedly last stand on Scarborough Shoal a century and half ago, as he took that rifle burst from the Chinese rifleman he'd killed. He never did really think about it too much, and when he did, he tried his best to forget about the old life he left behind, where there was practically nothing left for him to live for.

He was here now, he had said to himself that day when Knowles helped him up on his feet, and he had a new purpose in life to protect these people, a chance to start over. But right now though, he could only feel the sad and painful consequences of defeat as he had failed every single one of them; his regiment, the civilians that resided on Ferris Fields, everyone. They were all lost, with those bastards doing God-knows-what with them and not knowing why they even did this in the first place. Keep it together, Henry. He told himself. He had to stay focused, for everyone's sakes.

"Uh, colonel…?" The voice of First Lieutenant Johnson pierced through his thoughts and sudden melancholy.

"What is it, Albert?" The colonel responded weakly to his subordinate, his hands still covering his face.

"You, uh, really need to see this, sir." The lieutenant answered him back; the officer's insistence clearly noted on his voice.

"Oh, for Christ's sake…" Lowering his hands down, Rodriguez was just about to give the southern armored officer a piece of his mind before his eyes caught the object of everyone's interest in the passenger compartment. The holo-projector, that one he thought was completely inoperable earlier, was now activated once again. And instead of projecting the usual circular holographic control interface, it was showing all of them a floating object, resembling some sort of cuttlefish or squid, with a bulky semi-cylindrical body and tapering plate over the rear, and five tentacle-like limbs extending from its front end. In addition to six jointed legs extending from its body, the rear-most of the larger legs seemed to have crescent-shaped extensions.

"What. The. Hell…?" Suzumi slowly thought out loud, his eyes never leaving the unknown holographic object in front of them. Suddenly, the thing spoke, its deep, thunderous voice broadcasting on the shuttle's PA system, on everyone's helmet radios, comm links; basically on every audio emitting device it could find.

"WE ARE THE HARBINGER OF YOUR ASCENDANCE."

Everyone onboard the Kodiak jumped on their seats, with the people on the shuttle's passenger compartment not looking away on the floating squid, whose form was still being broadcasted by the commandeered holo-projector.

Rodriguez had to admit, the floating bastard really was scary looking, and the fact that its deep voice was so ominously announced on every one of their comms wasn't exactly helping everyone calm down, even after that thing's sudden appearance. Whoever these bastards were, they absolutely meant business, and were completely meticulous in their assault on Ferris Fields. What the hell do these guys want? Taking a deep breath, the colonel decided to talk with it.

"Who the hell are you? Why are you doing this?"

"WE ARE YOUR GENETIC DESTINY," The thing's deep voice hijacked everyone's comm systems again. "YOU DO NOT YET COMPREHEND YOUR PLACE IN THINGS."

"What place? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"WE ARE THE HARBINGER OF YOUR PERFECTION." The floating squid continued on cryptically, completely ignoring the colonel's questions. "YOU ARE IGNORANT, WE ARE KNOWING. YOU HAVE MERELY DELAYED THE INEVITA—"

The holo-projector exploded in a shower of sparks as Rodriguez blew it apart with three rounds from his M3 Predator sidearm, completely cutting off whatever the sanctimonious bastard had to say. He had half-expected for the thing to keep on rambling even after he shot the projector, but was surprised and somewhat thankful that it had decided to shut up even though it still had access to their comms. Maybe the annoying SOB got the message…He gave out a small smile on that thought.

"Colonel!" Cortez voice rang out from the shuttle's cockpit. "We've got company!" Opening up on his omni-tool, Rodriguez quickly accessed the shuttle's rear cameras and programmed it to display its live feed on the view screen beside them once again. After it showed them whatever it was that was chasing them, the colonel's shoulders droop down as he sighed tiredly. You have got to be kidding me…

Those floating red orb-things had finally come back, and this time, there were about a dozen of them now. Without any hesitation, they quickly fired off their dangerous volley, each of the red lasers patiently trying to connect with the highly-evasive shuttle. As he saw those persistent fighters close in on for the kill, Rodriguez stood up from his seat and decided to head for the cockpit.

"Damn it." He heard the ex-Alliance pilot swear softly once he arrived there a few moments later, holding on to one of the overheard handles to keep himself from being thrown about by Cortez's crazy maneuvers.

"Can't you go around them?" The colonel asked him.

"No," The pilot replied, his face starting to sweat heavily from the combined stress of flying an already difficult spacecraft and the fact that the crash-landing earlier probably only made the task worse enough as it is. "the only way through Robert and Therese is past these guys."

"Bastards." Rodriguez quietly swore through his gritted teeth. It was painfully obvious that these things were happy to oblige in making their lives extremely difficult, even though they've already won by abducting the entire colony. "Doesn't this thing have any weapons?"

"If it did, I wouldn't be dodging like hell right now, would I?" Cortez irritably answered him back, the venom in his voice completely unmistakable. His response made the colonel blink in surprise. Not once had he ever heard the usually nice pilot utter something remarkably unpleasant. If he had to guess, the guy must be under a lot of stress.

Well, no shit, Sherlock. He mentally reprimanded himself to have asked such a stupid question. Of course he would have known about the shuttle's lack of weaponry. He was, after all, a qualified fighter jock from the Systems Alliance before he left. More importantly, flying the UT-47 was no easy feat. Flying the Kodiak during atmospheric combat requires considerable skill, where the pilot has to reduce the vehicle's mass for speed and handling while maintaining enough mass to resist incoming fire and inclement weather. If Cortez wasn't so damn good at his job, he would've already overstressed the transport's field generator and they would've end up on the battlefield instead of above it. It's a miracle the guy's got us this far…

Suddenly, a searing laser blast fired from one of the chasing aircraft grazes the topmost part of the shuttle's hull, rocking everyone inside as the Kodiak barely survived the hit.

"Shit!" Cortez cursed loudly, not expecting the recent impact. Banking the shuttle heavily to the right, he circled around to try and take another pass at the enemy formation. "We can't take much more of this."

"I know!" The colonel agreed. "We need to get to them first before we can bug out and—" Before he could finish his sentence, Robert's breathless voice abruptly echoed inside the shuttle's cockpit.

"Steve, you there?" Rodriguez could hear the sound of heavy breathing, followed by what he thought was the intense clatter of wings buzzing ever so loudly. Steve on the other hand was almost at his breaking point.

"Robert, just hang on, we're almost there!" The pilot hysterically responds on the radio.

"No, it's too late for us." The man on the other end of the line told his loving husband. The way he had said it was so calm and peaceful, it was as if he already accepted his fate and was just waiting for it to approach him. Wait a minute…us? Oh, no…If Robert couldn't make it out, that also meant Therese can't—

Oh God, no, please, no, no, no, no. This can't be happening. We're almost there, all we need now is to breach the fighter screen, land quickly, and get them out of there. We won't fail. We can't afford to, not with their lives on the line. God, please…

As Rodriguez kept on pondering with his thoughts and prayed to God for another miracle, the conversation between Robert and Cortez was still in full swing, this time the ex-Alliance fighter jock was on the verge of tears.

"I'm coming to get you." The pilot said stubbornly, refusing to accept the fact that he was already too late and that their unknown enemy had already won.

"Don't you dare!" Robert defiantly answered back, his voice never wavering. "They're everywhere. You'd just get taken, too." Tears were now flowing freely in Cortez's cheeks, the fighter jock sniveling slowly as he replies.

"I can't just sit here, doing nothing!"

"Stay with me."

"Run—g-g-get out of there! You can make it!" Despite all the loud ambient noise in the background, the colonel could still hear someone sighing on the other end of the line.

"No I can't Steve." Robert told his husband softly, the way he said it was almost like a whisper. "But you can. Promise me."

"Robert, I—" Before he could reply, Cortez's husband cut him off.

"I love you, but I know you. Don't make me an anchor. Promise me, Steve."

"No, don't…" Rodriguez could see Cortez was completely wrecked with grief and was weeping ever so slowly, the tears falling all over the pilot's dark grey cargo pants. The colonel was completely surprised when his own cheeks were starting to get moist and slick, not even realizing that his own tears were already starting to fall.

"I promise." He could barely hear the man utter those two little words, who's hands were still dancing away on the shuttle controls.

"Thank you. Now, Henry," Rodriguez gulped when he heard his name being called by Robert. Even though he already knew how this was going to end, he still refused to believe in it, as part of him still thinks there's another way to get to them. "I have someone here who really wants to talk to you." There was about a few seconds of relative silence, but to him, it felt like an eternity. He could feel his heart beating slowly, his respiration deepening as both of his hands were starting to clam up. No, I can still save her. I just need to find a way to get past these bastards' defenses and—

"Honey, you there?" The sweet voice of Therese Watkins-Rodriguez was clearly heard on his ears. It was basically like a melody to him whenever he got the chance of hearing it, and even though it was good to hear from her, he still refused to believe that this moment was probably the last time they could hear each other's voices. Trying his best to steady his voice, he breathed deeply and replied

"Hey, babe."

"Hey, yourself." Despite how completely fucked up the situation was, Rodriguez couldn't help but smile. With their entire world going down to hell, his wife's spirits was still up, never wavering even in the face of imminent death. Right now, he just wanted to get to her and hold her so tight and never let go. If only life was that fair…

"Listen," the colonel began explaining, struggling to keep his voice from breaking as his tears started flowing even more. "we can still get you out of there, alright? I'm just waiting for a little gap in their defenses and then we can slip right through and then—"

"Honey, please stop." Therese, like Robert's voice before her, was calm and tender; never betraying any emotion other than her extreme gentleness and love. "We both know that's not going to happen." And with that, the colonel completely lost control of his breathing and began to snivel slowly.

"I can't just leave you and my baby girl there, damn it," Rodriguez replied softly while he wiped away his eyes from the tears that were building up. "Not when I still have the chance to do something."

"Don't worry about it, I got Robert here with me, and little Ashley." He could hear a pang of sorrow in her voice for the slightest of moments before returning to its normal cheery self. Their baby girl, not even born into this world yet, and was already being taken by these heartless bastards.

"Therese, please…" Rodriguez pleaded with his wife as he began sobbing uncontrollably. "Don't do this, please…"

"Look, honey, I don't have much time. So please, listen to me, okay?" The colonel acknowledged his wife before she continued: "I want you to go and live your life as best as you can, find someone who's going to love you as much as I did, and spend the rest of your life being happy with her, okay?" Rodriguez felt his body shaking uncontrollably as he cried his heart out, his knees gave way and he knelt on the cockpit's cold metallic floor. Here she was, with death only minutes away, hoping that his husband could find someone else to make him happy after she's passed. God, please, I can't live without her. I'll do anything, please…He kept on whimpering for the better part of a minute before Therese's voice broke him out of his sniveling trance.

"I know it's going to be hard, honey. But whenever you feel like you're lonely and alone, know this," Therese took a deep breath, and at that moment, he could've sworn that he could tell his wife was on the verge of tears, but was staying strong for the both of them. "know that whatever happens, I'm always going to be with you, okay?"

"P-P-Please, d-d-d-don't…" Rodriguez struggled to make himself form a single coherent sentence, but he was so wrecked with grief that it was almost impossible to even utter a single word in edgewise.

"I love you, Henry." At that moment, the colonel stopped crying, managing to get some semblance of control on his breathing when he heard her say those words."Always have, always will. Please take care of yourself."

Before he could say how much he loved her, and how lucky he was to have met such a beautiful and loving soul, they lost the connection a few seconds later; the signal terminated, as the insect swarm finally converged on Robert and Therese's last known position as they did the inevitable. And just like that, she was gone in a blink of an eye.

Grabbing the pilot's chair for support, Rodriguez slowly stood up, took a few deep breaths, and wiped any tears that he felt was still residing in his light brown eyes. He had to be strong now, for his men. For Therese. He'd be damned if he let her see him like this, sniveling like a damn baby instead of being the man she wanted him to be.

"Cortez…" He weakly called to the pilot, who slowly turned to faced him, his eyes bearing the same amount of grief as his. "Get us outta here." The man slowly nodded his head and returned his attention to the Kodiak's flight controls.

I'm so sorry, Therese. The colonel went back towards the passenger compartment, all eyes were on him as he approached a seat that was nowhere near anyone else's. I should've been there with you, I should've been right by your side when these bastards hit…I should've died with you, instead of being alive and feeling all alone. I don't know if I could do this without you. Strapping the overhead guard on his chest, Rodriguez slumped in his seat, staring out ahead and thinking on where to go next. His tears began building up on his eyes once again.

I never felt so alone and lost in my entire life.