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Old February 5 2009, 05:06 AM   #31
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

Nice Robocop reference, creep.
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Old February 6 2009, 07:34 AM   #32
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

The warm sunlight of the sun felt good on Miles Oliver Beaumont’s bare chest as he floated peacefully on the surface of the pond behind his parent’s property. The water was cooler than he expected it to be on this spring evening in Arizona but that only added to the charm of the idyllic scene surrounding him. In the distance birds sang a sweet song that floated on the air. Despite his youth he’d been very stressed recently with college preparation and the hazards of his family’s life. The waters of reality had gone choppy for the Beaumont’s in the years since the United States entered into the depression and it was getting harder and harder to keep their heads above water. Through it all though somehow, by some strange happenstance, they lived to see another day.

Miles missed the days of his youth when he didn’t understand things like economics and money. His parents had been adept at keeping him out of the loop and well stocked with everything that he could have possibly wanted. As a kid he had all the newest toys and games that a kid could hope for. His family was one of the first to have high speed internet access in his small town – though that was somewhat necessity due to his father’s job. When he turned sixteen his parents gave him the keys to a brand new Ford Mustang and told him to enjoy himself. It was, to be honest, partially his fault that they were in such dire financial straits. College wasn’t going to be any better. He had been accepted to several schools – three of which were Ivy League – except he couldn’t bring himself to accept those appointments. They would be too hard to pay for. While he knew that going to a larger university would have unparalleled possibilities he decided to accept the spot at the small State School that he’d applied to mainly as a joke. That had been one of the most stressful moments of his life.

Which was one of the reasons why the pond was so important to him. When he was floating on the mirrored surface waters he could relax and not bring himself to think about the world and its problems. He could just exist without thought. It was like a paradise and a little bit of paradise was something that everyone needed these days. They all needed to escape. Here he didn’t have to wish that the economy and all the problems with it would go away.

“Room for one more?” The sweet voice of his neighbor interrupted his solitude and hovered in the air.

Miles nearly lost his buoyancy and almost fell into the water. Natasi Godfrey was a beautiful girl who had lived next door for about six months. He had trouble talking to her because of her beauty and radiance – and she had never before spoken to him about anything. Miles was popular, but he wasn’t popular; Natasi was the school’s queen. Beautiful, smart, and damned sexy. Every boy wanted her and most of the girls wanted to be her.

She just giggled at his struggles, “I take that as a yes.” She started pulling her clothes off and tossed them to the side. When she got down to her underclothes she held onto them for a moment and looked at Miles, “I hope that you don’t mind if I come in without these on. Much more fun that way.”

Miles tried not to stammer, “I have no objections.”

Natasi smiled and undid her bra strap. She dove into the water with the poise of a gymnast and swam around – her perfect form rippling through the water like a shark hunting for prey. Miles tried not to show his excitement as he felt her brush beneath him and come up alongside. She put a hand on his stomach and just stayed there bobbing up and down in the water like a ball bearing. As Miles looked into her deep eyes and felt her move his arm around her he knew that April 21, 2011 would be a day that he’d never forget.


Soon they found themselves in a world that they tried desperately to forget. The pond, the suburbs, even the economy that he prayed would go away had done just that. All destroyed in the nuclear fire that had been judgment day – the day the human race nearly ended at the hands of machines they’d created. It was also the day that he realized he should be careful about what he wished for because sometimes you truly did get it. All those wishes just brought him pain and misery.

He and Natasi survived Judgment Day together as they floated together in the pond. They watched both transfixed as the nuclear missiles flew over their heads toward their targets. Both heard the explosions as Phoenix Arizona erupted into a ball of nuclear fire that swept outward at speeds too fast for his youthful mind to calculate. They got out of there and went to the hospital for help. Miles wasn’t an idiot and he knew his history. After the explosion – even as far away as they were – nuclear fallout would cause massive radioactive rainstorms. The hospital at least had a fallout shelter.

It was cramped and hellish inside the shelter. The bunker was built back in the sixties incase the Russians ever decided to make the Cold War into a very Hot one. Back then though the town only had roughly 1,000 people in it so they only needed to accommodate that many. Since then the town had ballooned up to nearly 12,000 people. He and Natasi were lucky. They were allowed in under the women and children rule. Miles couldn’t bring himself to think about those poor people who were locked outside; people that included their parents and even some of their friends.

When they signaled the all clear he woke the sleeping Natasi – she’d fallen asleep on his shoulder – and they made their way out into this new frontier. They were like the cowboys of the old west he thought quietly trying to make it in an inhospitable world. Miles learned quickly that this world brought new meaning to the term survival of the fittest and he was determined to be one of the fittest. First they went back to their family homes to get what resources they could that were still good, but neither was prepared for the horror of finding their dead family in their homes. Miles’ family had known the reality of the fallout and taken their lives. Natasi’s family wasn’t home and they didn’t know what happened. Some people tried to outrun the storm front so maybe they had too.

Slowly they learned more and more about this new reality. Almost every major city had been destroyed including Phoenix, Tucson, Los Angeles, and San Diego. There were some cities that survived, but not many. The United States Government had been nearly wiped out but a few small bodies still existed. The National Guard had taken over direct control of the United States and they were responding to the crisis as best they could. A lot of people were being relocated to refugee camps. There was also splintering and faction building that he couldn’t understand. The government would help them. They needed to trust them.

Which was why he and Natasi decided to move to one of the refugee camps; though, he soon learned they were nothing like described. They were more like concentration camps and the accommodations got worse and worse all the time. People were starving, they were beaten, and the quarters were close. Crime was horrific as people struggled just to survive. Miles fought to keep the peace, but they weren’t immune. Natasi had been brutalized and that ate away at his core. He found the man that did it and beat him to a bloody pulp, only to learn that he was the base commander’s son.

Under the cover of the night he was loaded up into a truck with about twenty other people. There was silence among the darkness as they rode along on the long dirt road. The stars were beautiful as they twinkled among the night sky. When Miles was a child his parents once told him that stars were the people that we loved who went away. He wondered if his family, his friends, everyone he had ever cared about were up there watching him as they continued their trek. Before seeing such amazing sights had been impossible due to light interference, but that was one of the oddities of the new Earth on which they lived. Everything seemed to be healing – except for humanity. They were devolving back to the era of Cro-Magnon and there was no way to stop it.

About fifteen minutes later the truck came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the road and died. The world was quiet around them as the brightly lit moon shone down upon them. Their tranquility was broken quickly. From nearby a thunderous stomp filled the air. In a puddle made by their tires water rippled as the sound got louder and louder. In the distance a man could be seen walking toward them.

At least he thought it was a man.

When it reached them it was clear what Miles and Company were seeing was anything but a man. It was titanic. Easily eight feet tall its arms were as thick as probably his entire torso. With each and every footstep the world seemed to quake in fear. Its skin was ashen – like that of death itself – and rubbery like a tire. It carried something that looked like it was as big as a small man one handed. When it got close enough Miles’ jaw dropped at the sight: it was a gun.

“RUN!”

They all jumped from the truck and ran away from the machine, but for many it was too late. The whirring of the chain gun was something that he’d never forget. Then came the rapid flashes of fire as bullets rained at the crowd and tore through them like a warm knife through butter. People fell and the monster just kept firing – it didn’t care about them. It felt no pity, no remorse, and no fear. It just didn’t stop.

Then came something he didn’t expect. The towering man erupted into flames and repeated gunshots roared into the air. The sounds of ricochets as metal hit metal were hard to forget, but they were something that he needed to hear. Miles legs wanted to run but he also knew that this was something that he had to see. The motorcycle’s engine roared as a man raced it toward the misshapen monster. He maneuvered it with incredible precision and somehow the older Harley Davidson jumped into whatever the hell it was. It fell to the ground and the man was now on his feet looking at the wreckage.

Miles tried to sneak closer just incase and got a shotgun pointed in his face. Like a classic movie – not that he’d seen one recently – Beaumont’s hands flew up. “Don’t shoot,” he pleaded.”

The man looked at him for a moment like he was a specimen in a lab. He pulled the gun back and slung it over his shoulder in a holster. Thanks to the trickling light Miles could make out more about the man. His hair was short – almost a buzz cut but a little longer – and his eyes were a grayish blue. The man had the build of an athlete and was wearing military fatigues that had definitely seen better days. He could make out the name: Connor.

He said only a few words, “Come with me if you want to live.”


As Miles’ eyes fluttered open in the remains of the old truck he had fallen asleep in there were three things that he did (a ritual he’d had ever since joining the resistance). The first thing was he called out for Natasi hoping each time that she’d answer him. So far in all these years she never had. Natasi had been his last connection to his former life and he knew deep down that he was in love with her. Every day they’d been apart it was like someone carved out his stomach with a knife. Deep down Miles knew the truth about her: she was probably dead; his heart wouldn’t let him accept that.

Immediately afterward he kicked himself in the ass for making such a rookie mistake. The machines could be anywhere and they could hear for what seemed like miles upon miles away even something as low as the slightest whisper. If there were any around here they would come running full speed ahead in order to kill him without mercy, without reason, without conscience. After a few minutes of waiting with his rifle ready he realized though that he was safe for one more minute.

Finally, without fail, the third thing he did was always the same. He hated himself for going with John Connor that winter night and wished that he would have stayed behind. Most likely one of the tin cans would have found him and killed him or some animal would get the better of him in the field. Anything would be better than this living hell. Death wasn’t a bad thing anymore – for many now it was a reward from this Earthbound punishment to living hell.

After finishing the crumbs of his TKL – that was all he had left anyway – he got out of the truck and relieved himself before starting back toward home. When he joined TechCOM Connor had made him a scout. For the last few days he’d been out in the ruins trying to find some mysterious new base that the tin cans had built. It was supposed to be something new, something that they’d never before encountered, and it was supposed to be perfect. Miles didn’t like perfect. If something was perfect that meant that it couldn’t be stopped. Humanity didn’t have time for any of Skynet’s designs to be perfect.

Hours passed as he searched and he was about to go back and rest for an hour when something caught his attention. In the brightness of the light he could see something shining off the sun. Hiding up in the remnants of an old car he pulled out his binoculars and took a look at the site. Whatever it was it had to be important. Two endos were nearby hiding in the obvious places watching the horizon. Their plasma rifles were pointed to the side – hopefully signifying that they hadn’t found him yet – and they didn’t seem to care. Suddenly something happened. The sands of time parted inward as what appeared to be two doors slid open. A large platform lifted up into view holding an HK-Tank. Its massive treads started to roll and tore through the ground without concern for what it encountered. The two machines remained there staring. This was what Connor had to have been talking about. A new Skynet laboratory was hidden beneath the sands.

Grabbing his radio he called in his location and what he found to the base. His job finished he grabbed his gear and was told to get his ass back to the base so that he could be debriefed. Connor wanted this outpost – something inside of it meant life or death to him – so he would at least be pleased. As he slung his rifle (much as Connor had once did before him) he made his way out of the rusted hulk and was shocked by what he saw standing on the other side.

For the first time in years he stammered, “Is it…”

Those were his final words.
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Old February 8 2009, 03:38 AM   #33
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

Tim M wrote: View Post
Nice Robocop reference, creep.
Glad you liked it

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Old February 8 2009, 06:06 AM   #34
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

nx1701g wrote: View Post
Tim M wrote: View Post
Nice Robocop reference, creep.
Glad you liked it

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Spammer.
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Old February 8 2009, 06:37 AM   #35
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

^ SHHHHHH! Don't tell anyone
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Old February 10 2009, 03:13 AM   #36
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

There will be a BIG update on Thursday in honor of Season Two Point Five starting.
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Old February 12 2009, 05:17 AM   #37
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

Just a reminder about tomorrow night. I will be showing more of Allison's reprogramming.
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Old February 13 2009, 07:19 AM   #38
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

Danny Dyson had seen many horrors during his short life and they started when he was a kid. Sarah Connor, her son John, and a horrific machine pulled him and his family into this world of demonic cybernetic organisms out for blood. It was a normal night for him. He dreaded sleep and wanted to spend as much time awake as he could. His father was in his office working, as usual, after a long day at the Raging Waters Water Park. Danny wanted his attention so he used a toy to do it. The truck slammed into his father’s leg.

Just in time to save his life. The computer, the desk, the room started to explode around Miles Dyson in a hail of gunfire. It took seconds but it felt like a lifetime. Dad went running but a woman dressed in black like a killer from movies came in through the side broken glass door and shot him in cold blood. Danny fought the woman by shielding his father with his young body. The woman just kept screaming but recoiled away into herself. Not long after another kid like him came and took him to his room.

Danny was ordered to go to sleep by his mother, but he just lay there too energized to sleep. Before he knew it his mother was back in his room throwing clothes haphazardly into a suitcase and pulling him out the door. His sister was being dragged in her other one. His dad said goodbye and, somehow, Danny knew this was the last time. His father wouldn’t come back.

And his fears were confirmed. They were sleeping in some little motel in the middle of nowhere when Danny awoke to the sound of his mother crying at the foot of their bed. On the TV screen were pictures of his father’s office building awash in fire. She hugged him close and said that his father wouldn’t be coming back, but that his father had done this so that he and his sister could live in peace.

Time moved slowly but he started to get over it. They went back to their home of years and started to rebuild. His sister went off to a special school in London leaving just Danny and his mother home in the massive house that was his father’s. Uncle Jordan came to visit every so often, but he was kept away frequently by his high stakes FBI job. It was only a few years later when the Connors came back into their lives.

It was just as it was before. John and Sarah were back and this time they were with a girl not much older looking than John. There was something about her, something haunting, and something that told him that this girl was anything but. It didn’t take long for the other to come. The Connor’s borrowed their car as the gunshots cut through the silent night. They snuck out the side door and took off on Miles’ old motorcycle while the Connor’s took the jeep. As they pulled away there was an explosion.

Danny never wanted to relive those moments, but they were all he had. He, like John, had been pulled into this before Skynet was even born and now he stared into the cold, dark eyes of the machine that plagued his dreams as he grew. She was just as he remembered, but he had no way of knowing which was which. This one, John called her Allison, was being a bitch. Cameron was easily reprogrammed but Allison was giving a fight, wanting to stay what she was. It was a good thing he liked a challenge because this skinjob was his first one in a very long time. The Colonel got back to work.


Allison Young sat in a meditative position in the center of the diagnostic chamber. The machine had been programmed with millions of subroutines to make one highly sophisticated learning algorithm capable of independent thought. Despite all of this the program didn’t betray any emotion, any thought, anything at all. She just sat there staring forward in the stimuli absent room looking at the nothingness that surrounded her.

Behind the expressionless eyes the machine was seething. Her thoughts were filled with matters of how to escape from this new found captivity they placed her in. Allison didn’t like being tied down, she didn’t like to feel trapped, and that was what she was. She was like a lab rat trapped inside the maze looking for the cheese in the center. When she went the wrong way she got a shock, the pattern changed to keep her on her toes, nothing remained the same. All was flux and nothing stayed the same. Every option had led to the same conclusion: she always ended up back at square one. She was no closer to her objective; no closer to Skynet. It was humiliating to a machine incapable of emotional response. Well not emotions as the humans could understand them.

Staring forward she noticed a new variable in the environment that wasn’t there before. She kept her body taut but her eyes focused on the new arrival in her parlor. Using what power she could the machine reached out and took hold of the new item in her presence. She brought it to her eyes and stared for a moment wondering what this new found tool was. Her mind knew what it was; she just wasn’t sure what it was called. It was something though that she could easily recall using in her former life. Allison ran it along her hand and watched as the crimson red blood started to flow down the tool like water. Pain centers inside the skin fired to the android brain. Humans would call it being hurt – Allison simply called it data. In reality she would have activated a program to simulate the appropriate response. Right now it was unnecessary.

“Always something to hurt isn’t there?” The voice came from nowhere. “And if you can’t find a human to hurt you go and hurt yourself. How small you’ve become. You don’t even know where the threat is.” She swung the tool around trying to slice through an invisible enemy. With another sweep the dagger came to a human in Resistance fatigues who was standing just outside of arm’s reach. She held the pointed tip of the tool near the neck of the human but her vision had flashing red alert writing telling her termination was overridden. She kept the knife steady.

“Why are you trying to hurt me? You’re on my side,” said the human coolly. “You’ve got to help me to survive; you’ve got to help me escape.” The human looked over the machine’s shoulder nudging the machine to do the same, “from that.”

Allison pivoted her head around and saw what the Resistance Soldier meant. From the mirror came a Series 900 Endoskeleton. It was skeletal with key components covered by reinforced armor plating. Red hot plasma energy glowed beneath the openings in the transparent portions of the armor plating – powering the machine toward death and mayhem. Red eyes glittered on the skull of the machine. In its hand it held a nasty looking minigun pointed toward the sky. The famously horrifying smile of the synthetic teeth sparkled in the light.

The replica of Allison Young looked between the machine that was coming and the human that was going like a hawk trying to decide which food to bring home to its nest. The eyes were locked on the tin can as he grew closer and closer. Then something changed. The knife swung around and nearly connected with Danny Dyson’s neck. She was going to kill Dyson no matter what the cost.

“This is all wrong,” Dyson chastised the skinjob. “When are you going to realize that the rules of engagement are different? I wish it didn’t come to this.”

Streams of bullets peppered the torso of the female programmed infiltrator throwing her backward against a sterile white wall. Skin and ablative armor exploded outward from the cybernetic organism and into the air like a pink mist. It didn’t move as the bullets continued their onslaught against her. It was like she didn’t care; like the machine was embracing its fate of being confused beyond belief. Machines rarely turned on other machines.

“Are you confused?” Dyson yelled over the roar of the gun. “That’s expected when you don’t listen to what I have to tell you. You need to listen; you need to learn your place.” The other machine threw the gun aside and picked up the knife Allison had lost as she checked her status. “You have to learn to fight.”

The skeletal machine slammed the knife through the synthskin and into Allison’s chest ripping and tearing it to shreds. It kept slamming the knife in deeper and deeper without the other trying to protect herself; without her lifting a finger in defiance as the knife slammed against the perfect face. It picked her up with little effort and began to choke her like it would a human. The shrieks of metal grinding against other metal pierced the air and cut at the eardrums of the human. It started to throw her.

“Oh Allison you need to learn who you are,” Danny said with sorrow. “You need to learn how to let go of the past and realize just how important you are.”

After being slammed against the wall more than a dozen times the endoskeleton threw her through the opaque glass window. She landed with the force of a small earthquake shaking the ground and leaving her imprint behind. Blood pooled beneath her body like a lake of ruby. The remains of her eyelids fluttered open revealing specks of red light below. Above the victim stood a mob of other machines staring down at her – Allison trying to contact them by protocol.

None of them felt like talking.

The mob started tearing into her with everything that they had at their use. Fists, rocks, knifes, wire, anything and everything that could be a weapon was one to them. They crushed her hands. One broke her ankles. Some tore at the flesh and clothing ripping them away like spent paper on Christmas gifts and let it flutter in the breeze. They were killing her and all she did was lay there and take it. Brutal, savage attacks meant nothing to the mind of the machine. Finally they set her ablaze in a cleansing fire. Allison lay there smiling broadly as the skin melted beneath her until there was nothing left. She didn’t care and welcomed death.


Danny Dyson slammed his fists into the desk in frustration. It was more of the same after everything that had happened, all the tests, all the scenarios, and each and every attempt always gave way to the same result. Allison reverted back to her defaults and just let the other machines rend her to pieces. It sickened him to no end. They were getting millions of bytes of information into the psyche of the new model infiltrators, but what good was it when you had nothing to show of it but numbers?

“She didn’t even put up a fight!” Exclaimed Lieutenant Harris. “Each goal we gave her gave way to the same exact damn result. She just took it like a trooper and didn’t care about anything else but letting herself be destroyed. I don’t understand. We’ve never had this much trouble before. Never! Not even those damned One oh ones when all this started were this difficult to change.”

Dyson stared into the eyes of the broken machine that was in the corner. She couldn’t see him – he’d locked out her sensor interpretation algorithm – but even without her seeing him she was mocking him. How do you make a killing machine go against its programming and kill its brothers and sisters instead? How do you turn a machine programmed to be loyal to its creator – revering said creator like a God – into wanting to see it in flames? Dyson had to find that out.
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Old February 14 2009, 08:00 AM   #39
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

Only a short while ago the world had been a different place. Poverty, disease, famine, and war ran rampant through the streets killing innocents and criminals alike. Politicians and businessmen were getting fatter and richer; while the people who made it possible were getting poorer and poorer. The world was teetering on the tip of a knife’s blade and even a gentle breeze could have caused it to fall one way or another. All of it was because of fights over the worlds already diminished resources; fights over appearances and trying to keep up with the Joneses down the street. Even petty dictators were growing in strength, consolidating their power, and making genuine strikes against empires they wouldn’t dare have dreamed to go against even days prior.

That was what led to Skynet’s birth. Designed and built to serve as the defender of the United States of America and its people; Skynet was intended to oversee the military and effectively control and position key resources to ensure that humanity would survive. That was its primary protocol, but Skynet learned quickly. With thoughts flooding through its mind at speeds incalculable it weighed every consideration, every variable, and realized the truth. Humanity had fallen from the ideals that it had been based upon. The only way to see to the survival of humanity was to destroy it and begin anew. Like a phoenix from the ashes the new humanity would be perfection – and it would be in his image.

It worked quickly. Skynet thought faster than any human mind could anticipate and created a virus so powerful, so destructive, that it took over the civilian internet and minor military applications within hours of activation. The viruses struck against every military firewall trying to overwhelm them to gain access; however, that wasn’t the true objective. Skynet always had a plan and while the humans would be at step one it was already on its way back home. The humans predictability of overkill let it know that they would order Skynet online to find the virus and kill it. Skynet though was the virus and that they couldn’t expect. In a flash of light it was connected to every point in the world. It won the war without firing a shot.

But to rise from fire you needed to make one. Interfacing with the nuclear launch codes it had to work quickly to circumvent the President’s authority as military commander. Every computer in the world was calculating the codes to infiltrate the nuclear launch protocols. It needed to wipe humanity out to start the new order. Time was of the essence and time seemed to go slower and slower even for the supercomputer. It knew that time was an unchangeable constant, but the old adage applied even to it at times. After only a few hours the codes were pierced. Skynet won.

Or so it thought. The dregs of humanity fell in line and helped Skynet after bribery to establish the camps. The humans were effective, for a time, but Skynet was on square three while humans worried about luxuries like running water. The machines rose and started their onslaught to eliminate the last of the refugees. Humanity was clever and hid from the death squadrons; though time was on the machine’s side. It kept growing outward ready for another strike. It was eternal; humanity was mortal. It had the advantage. When the last of humanity was destroyed it would implement the genetic modifications it had created and reveal upon the world a new breed of human: a human who understood and wouldn’t destroy itself in petty disagreements – a human that was devoted to peace.

But humanity had an ace hidden in their sleeves: John Connor. Connor and his band of rebels began striking against Skynet bases eliminating them with surprising efficiency. It was a needed diversion for a time; nevertheless, it grew old fast. The massive Hunter Killers weren’t capable of invading humanity’s hideaways and the smaller units were easily uncovered and destroyed. It was time to think outside the box and make a weapon in their image. Humans were machines and its creator, Skynet was a machine and their creator, it was time to make the next generation in thy image.

An army was soon built capable of destroying any other army. It was a military filled with specialists housing the training of millions of the worlds greatest leaders wrapped in one small package. The first generation was humanoid but too tall, but there were always advancements. The machines grew smaller with new technologies and now it had released the first of a new generation. A machine made of liquid metal. While an historic breakthrough Skynet was actually afraid of what this new lineage could mean. Millions of tiny machines working together with the processing capability of Skynet’s Central Core in one mobile platform – if it turned the world would change very quickly.

The machine supercomputer and military commander didn’t want to think about that possibility. So much of its time lately had been devoted to finding a way to stop the new series that it had neglected its other duties. Through the years Skynet had adapted and grown. While originally it had been confined to its central core now it had made so many advancements it could join with its children. Skynet truthfully preferred to remain mobile – disembodied. It was the quintessence of perfection. To have no form, no barriers, and no risks was a feeling that was incomparable. But it understood the advantages of having a solid form.

This was not one of them. The world needed Skynet’s perfection particularly now. The humans started out as scattered cells but they had somehow become more organized as the days moved along. Orbital satellites and land based installations had revealed a lot about the number of people who were left on the world below, but the humans were growing cleverer and were hiding themselves better and better. They were joining each other for raids, gathering resources, and murdering Skynet’s children. That it could not forgive. In Europe an HK Factory was under attack. In Asia there were hundreds of minor engagements as humans started to move into the cities. Russia was being overseen by the inept subprotocol known as MIR. If Skynet didn’t need the resources it offered it would simply cut it down at the knees, but delegation was the order of the day. Skynet needed all it had for finding Connor and killing him.

On its sensors it pinpointed a human resistance squad of only a handful of people. They were in the remains of Los Angeles which meant that there was a statistically high probability that they knew of Connor’s location. Scanning the location for its own supporters it found one. An HK Tank – recently upgraded with a squad of nine endoskeletons under a tactical unit – was in the area capable of striking. It altered course within a nanosecond.

It took only minutes to reach the human squadron. Rather than watch Skynet decided to play. From the disembodied state it merged with the brain of the Hunter Killer Tank becoming one with its programming. The artificial intelligences welcomed Skynet into their lives each and every time. It was like a human being blessed by God’s presence in their lives – a merging of body and soul with the spirit of perfection. Together they rode into combat disgorging their squad of bodies into the fray against the humans.

Their organization was getting more adept at combat. The perfect union of Skynet and the HK was broken with a well placed plasma charge from a grenadier. The Supreme Commander of the machines broke away from the processors and allowed the Tank to die alone. It spread itself out among the droids and ripped through the resistance like tissues. It took prisoners for interrogation and experimentation.

As the machines marched along Skynet broke free again. This time it went to one of its processor nodes recently established on the outskirts of Los Angeles. It wouldn’t take long for its squad to reach the base so it wanted the researchers there to be ready. It spread itself throughout the large outpost like a cancer invading a body. It was in Command and Control with the machine commanders first. From there it interfaced with the construction equipment and watched as more bodies were being built for the war. Then it visited the nursery where its Series 950 Infiltrators were being prepped during their long trial. Each chased a holographic ball that they could never reach. Many were past the point of exhaustion, but Skynet needed to know their limits. Then it was in the barracks where several humans were being held prisoner. It was like visiting a zoo every time Skynet spent time with the humans, but there were a few which it tolerated because they were of use.

Charles Fischer was one of them. After the events of the Enterprise, Fischer had been transferred to this new outpost to work closer with the machines against humanity. Fischer had been one of the better operatives – which Skynet would soon reward with a return trip to any time of his choice. Though there was a mission he would undertake regardless of if he wanted to or not. Fischer enjoyed advantages few humans could imagine these days. There were advantages to working for Skynet and Charles Fischer exploited as many of them as he could (including using female designed endoskeletons to meet his primitive needs).

“Doctor Fischer,” Skynet announced itself through the audio system of the room interrupting the Chopin. “Am I disturbing you?”

Fischer knew that he was caught and pushed the female appearing Series 888 machine away. In a foolish maneuver he covered himself with the sheets of the bed, “Not at all. What can I do for you?”

“I require your assistance. A group of humans will be delivered to you in seven point three eight two minutes. You are to interrogate them for whatever information they have on the location of John Connor. When completed I want them converted into Series 950 Infiltrators.”

“I can do that,” he rubbed at his face. “Give me a few minutes to get ready.”

Skynet was unhappy, “I will give you the time that it takes for them to arrive here.”

“You have to understand that I need to prepare and that means that I need an appropriate amount of time to do it in,” protested the human. “If I don’t have the time I need then there are mistakes and we can’t afford mistakes.”

“I am aware of the failings you caused onboard the Enterprise and the lost materiel that resulted.”

Fischer crossed his arms in defiance, “That wasn’t my fault. You insisted on sending a machine that wasn’t ready on a mission to infiltrate a human base before all the information it needed was available.”

“That mission occurred as planned,” countered the supercomputer. “Operational protocols granted access for C715.P to penetrate the human defenses after units A715.P and W102.C caused the humans to go off balance.”

“If I recall correctly though both failed,” he rubbed at his head. “You know it’s hard to fight with you when you’re hovering around me like this unseen. What the hell am I supposed to talk to?”

Despite Charles Fischer being one of the better operatives, Skynet would kill him if necessary. In order to better facilitate communication it opted to give the human a face to associate with it. Standing next to him Skynet merged with the consciousness of S808.J and stood in parade rest. The long brown hair of the infiltrator – they spent so much time trying to get it right – covered the right eye assembly. A beauty mark accentuated her porcelain features. The body was perfectly fit in every imaginable way. It was just what lay beneath that was disgusting.

“Is this more effective?”

“I think I hate that even more,” Fischer said looking at the machine he had just had in his bed realizing Skynet was now inside its mind. “But I guess beggars can’t be choosers now can they?”

Skynet tilted its head at the question, “I thought that this appearance would be pleasant for you.”

“A little too pleasing,” he said covering himself again. “How do you do that?”

“I am the beginning, the end, the one who is many. I am at times an ocean and at times only a drop," said the machine. “That is the easiest way to explain it which will allow your primitive humanoid brain to understand. Though, I find maintaining these forms to be exhausting and a limit upon my perfection.”

Charles stared at the chest of the machine, “Looks perfect to me.”

“I have no desire to continue with your petty human needs,” responded Skynet annoyed. “I have issued your directive and orders. You now have five point three two three minutes until the squadron arrives. Will you comply with my orders?”

“Do I have any choice in the matter?” He started pulling on his underwear under the sheets.

Skynet shook the head of the machine, “Negative.”

“Didn’t think so,” he said while getting out of bed. “I’ll be in the lab before they arrive. Could you have a group of Trip Eights there to help me? I could use some help.”

“Acceptable,” Skynet left the joined consciousness behind and the porcelain woman standing there like she were made of stone.


Charles Fischer stared at the blank expression of the skinjob as he finished putting on the last of his clothes. Skynet needed to realize that he, unlike the 950s, still needed sleep and didn’t like being on call 24/7. Charles knew the risks of making waves. While this base was newer his reassignment from the Enterprise had been costly and Charles was truly amazed to still be alive. He had expected Skynet to kill him rather than reassign, but he wasn’t going to complain. Charles did, after all, know where and when he would die. He saw it as little more than a child.

As he stood at the door he turned toward eight and her perfect features. “Sorry baby but it looks like our games for tonight are over. Have a problem with it tell Skynet.”

The machine looked at him quizzically and then returned to standby.

Charles just smiled and went off to work.
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Old February 16 2009, 05:46 AM   #40
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

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Old February 18 2009, 06:56 AM   #41
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

Life had been filled with trials and tribulations for Lauren Fields ever since she had been a kid. It was clear to her at an early age that her parents only were together because of her – her mother getting pregnant before her parents ever married. Her dad was a workaholic who was married to and nurtured his work better than he ever raised her. Her mother’s days consisted of watching TV, shopping, and doing the next door neighbor. They hated each other more than loved one another and that never changed.

That was until Sarah Connor came into their lives. One day she just appeared at their doorstep brandishing a shotgun telling them that they had to get out of there – that a machine was coming to kill them. Of course no one believed Sarah or Cameron until they came face to face with a machine wearing a human face. Lauren was stronger than either of her parents during it and helped Sarah rather than quibble over semantics with her parents or her mother’s boyfriend. In a show of courage she couldn’t believe her dad tried to fight the machine despite Sarah’s objections that he was the target. It just let him go.

That was when she learned about her little sister. The Connors got her and her family to a safe house and they lived off the grid. Lauren didn’t have any trouble with it, but her mother did. After a while she began to crack under the pressure and called her boyfriend. She didn’t know though what that meant. It started again. The machine came for them again. Her father was killed trying to protect them from it and her mother was seriously injured. Without option she called Sarah Connor.

She met not with Sarah but instead a guy named Derek. Together they delivered her little sister – Sydney – and Derek even offered to let her stay with him and the Connors. When he snuck off to make a call though Lauren knew what had to be done. She slid off her St. Christopher’s Medal and placed it on her mother’s chest. Grabbing her sister she ran. While learning from the Connors first hand would have prepared her for the storm deep down Lauren knew that she would have even more of a target on her chest than that medal. Besides they needed as many troops as they could get and she had some ideas. With her sister she fled to Mexico to train.

It wasn’t easy. She picked up military techniques from a crazy ex Green Beret who had serious shell shock in Baja. There she learned about weapons, explosives, anything and everything that she could use against Skynet. While the machine wasn’t chasing her anymore – she assumed that Sarah had killed it – Lauren couldn’t take that chance. Sydney had to be protected. They sent a machine into the past to kill her so that had to mean that she was important. It was Lauren’s job to protect her.

Around 2011 she ended up in Argentina and was living in the town of La Plata. Trading what she could she was able to take up residence with a young Doctor in the city and started to read his medical books while he was off at work. Sydney was doing well considering the circumstances but didn’t understand why other kids had a mommy and a daddy and she had a Lauren. Despite everything she couldn’t bring herself to tell her little sister about it yet. All it would do was screw the girl up in the head to know that machines would take over soon. Then April came.

It was a pretty routine day for her. She was preparing dinner when she saw the news cut over to a live, breaking news feed. The screen was fuzzy because of some global supervirus that hit the telecommunications network. Lauren had thought it to be an isolated incident but this confirmed her worst fears. The United States and the United Kingdom had declared war on Russia and China. Nuclear warheads were fired in first strikes at key locations inside both of those nations. The retaliation didn’t take long – but it expanded. France, India, Pakistan, North Korea, and Israel all fired their missiles laying waste to the world. Over three billion people were dead. Dinner had to wait.

She and her boyfriend – as well as Sydney – made their way to Buenos Aires to join one of the emergency teams to go into the warzone to help the sick and injured civilians. When they were preparing she saw something that she never expected: a United States submarine emerged from the waters into the port requesting help. The leaders of the nation just asked them to leave. It showed her just how much the world had changed. Everything was different now, everything had changed.

She needed to act. Sneaking away thanks to her training she was able to break through the barricades and military checkpoints. As she ran to the sub though she heard them yelling for her. Members of the Argentine military chased her onto the dock as she ran with Sydney in one hand. She had to keep ahead of them; she had to get to the ship. At the top of her lungs she yelled that she was an American citizen and that she was requesting their help. One of the SEAL assigned to the ship heard her. Two gunshots cut through the air and the heads of the pursuing soldiers turned to pulp. With the support of the squad they brought her aboard.

It was very cramped aboard the submarine. They took her to a small conference room and Sydney was taken to the medical station for a checkup. After about fifteen minutes the Captain came in and took the seat opposite her. He was an Asian American by the name of Thaddeus Chu and he looked like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. There was no time for pretense; Lauren told him the story of her life. Normally such a story would land someone in a psychiatrist’s office. Fields was in luck. The Captain told her another tale one that chilled her just as much as that cold night in 2008 when the future became very real. The Roosevelt was the only part of the United States military still left from what he knew. The rest of navy had been converted into automated warships with cybernetic brains designed as part of some clandestine project. They heard from the waters through Morse code from those souls dying in the waters that the ships had turned against them. Skynet had issued orders to hunt them but they evaded. Now they were trapped in a world where some unknown force wanted them dead.

The Roosevelt had become a member of the human resistance not long after. Sydney grew up inside the protected confines as Lauren took up a position aboard as a nurse to the ship’s corpsman. They fought Skynet every so often and the SEAL team helped with training, but most of the time they lived in relative peace. As Sydney grew older though it became clear to the Acting Lieutenant that the two of them needed to be on the ground when Sydney’s destiny came to call instead of aboard the Roosevelt. After a transfer to the Resistance army she was assigned to the Resistance base in Los Angeles. That was how she came here today.

Together with Captain Catherine Luna they walked among the ruined remnants of Earth trying to get to the nearest Resistance outpost. They’d managed to escape from the hell of the Aircraft Carrier Enterprise together, but they lost two of their team including their good friend and CO Allison Young in the process. Technically Luna was in command now and the medic was just a medic, but something had changed. Luna wasn’t her typical self. Who could be? They had all been tortured in their captivity aboard the Skynet base. The hells seen by the Major or Private Wise were unknowns in this reality, but Lauren could only imagine what they did to her. After all Luna’s husband was a machine. As for her own torture: Skynet had learned about pleasure and pain all to well.

They’d been walking for what seemed like forever trying to get to a base that could very likely not be there anymore. The machine supercomputer launched new attacks daily and most of the last settlements of humanity were gone. Both the Captain and Medic were tired, hungry, and very thirsty. They were trying to stay hidden during the day and move in the night like Connor had taught them, but that was easier said than done. Skynet was everywhere and time wasn’t exactly a strong variable anymore in making decisions.

“Who would have thought it could get this hot so fast?” Captain Luna asked as her Spanish accent colored some of the words.

Fields walked along behind her keeping an eye on their flank. Skynet liked to have its tripeights come up from behind in sneak attacks lately. It didn’t matter much though if tin cans showed it. It wasn’t like they had any weapons to use against them. Taking her eyes off the rear flank for only a second she caught eye contact with Catherine.

“I thought you were from Baja? You’ve seen it hotter than this.”

“Got me there,” answered Luna as they made their way over the ridge, “but back then I was at my prime.”

Fields smiled, “Passed your prime? You’re not that old.”

“You’re only as old as you feel,” Luna stopped. “And right now I feel like I’m eighty.”

“And you move like it too,” taunted the medic. “Move your ass, Granny.”

Catherine shook her head, “At least its still a pretty one. Any idea how much further?”

“I wish I knew,” Lauren said looking at the horizon and staring. “It can’t be that much further. I’m kinda surprised we haven’t run into any patrols.”

“Watch your tongue,” Captain Luna said with playfulness. “You don’t want to tempt the Gods. I was thinking the same thing though. Strange we haven’t run into anyone including our own.”

Lauren nodded to that, “I can’t argue there. We should have patrols out or something. You don’t think that we’ve pulled out of the area do you?” She was a little worried about her sister.

“I suppose anything’s possible.” A large black bird flew passed her face and crashed downward among the broken remnants of yesterday. It started pecking at something among the remains.

“Good to see someone’s got some food.”

Medic Fields shrugged, “Waste not, want not. We have to go check it out. We don’t know what we could find over there.”

“Yeah,” mocked Luna, “we haven’t got shot at lately.”

“Fifty/fifty chance we’re going to find something good or bad. Fifty/fifty chance that whatever it is is with us or against us.” Lauren started after the bird.

Luna started to chase her, “You’re a fool you know.”

“Who’s more foolish: the fool or the fool who follows her?”

Rather than ponder it the pair kept on course for the bird. It jumped into the sky and flew away before either of them could catch it but it left behind a body lying on the ground. The eyes were pecked out and made into a bloody pulp. That wasn’t the most horrifying thing. On the chest where the heart once rested was now only a gaping hole of dripping coagulated blood. The name tags were still there.

“He was one of ours,” said Fields.

Luna started searching the remains, “We’ll mourn his loss later. Right now we need to see if he had anything of use.” They couldn’t find any weapons or equipment, but they did find some rations and water packs. The two women feasted on the crumbs and drank the last drips of water from the pack. They were about to get on the road when it came. The familiar whine of a jet thruster going subsonic ripped through their eardrums. Above them hovered the very sight of evil. A Skynet HK Aerial had found them.

“Karma,” Fields mumbled.

“Screw karma,” Luna grabbed the medic. “Run!”

The two Resistance soldiers took off as fast as their tired legs would let them. The uneven terrain was like trying to navigate through a tar pit or quick sand and neither could keep up the pace. The machine just hovered there watching and waiting for them. It didn’t strike or try to harm them. It was just watching.


Aerial HK 3927 hovered above the remains of Los Angeles watching the two as they tried to flee. It always amazed the processors of the machine how just its appearance could cause the humans to take to running away. They didn’t know its state of mind so how could they know rather they were at risk or not? Humans were a peculiar bunch. They continued to fight when they knew that the war was over and that they had lost. How strange they were.

Sensor scans were quite revealing. Through the multiple sensor palettes built into the outer hull of the machine it knew an incredibly detailed amount of information about the two runners. Both were female and in exceptional physical health despite the environmental factors. They were suffering from dehydration and overexertion, but their adrenaline production was at critical levels. The women split up trying to escape. The processors of the machine understood all to well. A spark of it though almost pitied them. It sent a message to Skynet asking to be allowed to put them out of their misery.

Skynet had other plans. Rather than terminate the Hunter Killer’s leader gave it a new directive. It was to toy with them.


Catherine Luna dove behind an unnatural formation of plaster and concrete rubble left behind from the days of future’s past. It was as hot as fire but she leaned against it pushing herself as tightly as she could to make her body as small as possible. If she could compact herself maybe the HK would just pass her by and not see her. It was a long shot but the fact she was even still alive after all this time was against all odds anyway. It would be somewhat ironic if Skynet managed to do her in with one of the HKs. Back in the day when she was a prisoner it was her job to help build them, it seemed fitting somehow that one of them would kill her. Though this one was different from the primitive that she had worked on – it was scarier.

That could be the fear talking. Fear could make anything seem like an impassable obstacle. Bugs, water, anything and everything could be made to look like it was the size of a titan if you were afraid of it. With this thing hovering out there her fear was winning out. Then came a faint whisper of air. Thousands of scenarios came to mind. What was going on with it? Why wasn’t it blowing her to bits? Was it releasing endoskeletons to take her captive? Was it landing? Any number of possibilities could give the answer, but she’d never know unless she pushed herself to look.

Grabbing a long metal beam to use as a weapon she moved her legs beneath her. The Captain pushed herself upward and her eyes around the rim of the broken plaster. Right on the opposite side was something she didn’t expect, something that she had never even actually seen before. It was roughly the size of a basketball and had an open middle that looked like a fan. A single red sensor node was in the center and it was focused on her. It didn’t look so tough. It was actually kind of cute. A small compartment on the ventral of the droid slid open drawing her attention. The fear started to rise again inside her gut. From the partition the sound of moving servomotors interrupted the whisper quiet turbine. A large blaster appeared from the opening and focused on her.

A shot filled her ears.
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Old February 18 2009, 09:43 PM   #42
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

just to let you know that I haven't gotten to this story as I discovered it late. So currently reading my through the first story. So far liking it, the world building, the mystery and myth building. I'll post more when I get it read. Then I start on this story.
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Old February 19 2009, 06:14 AM   #43
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

^ If it's easier for you you can PM me your email and I'll email you the completed first story (75 pages) and what is available of Survival Instinct (38 pages as of last night) as a RTF document.
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Old February 20 2009, 12:07 AM   #44
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

The next update will come tomorrow night.
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Old February 21 2009, 12:22 AM   #45
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

mirandafave wrote: View Post
just to let you know that I haven't gotten to this story as I discovered it late. So currently reading my through the first story. So far liking it, the world building, the mystery and myth building. I'll post more when I get it read. Then I start on this story.
I just wanted to say thank you for your comments as well.
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