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Old March 4 2009, 10:43 AM   #61
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

I'm enjoying this, but also waiting to see the various plot threads start to come together.

Great work, as usual.
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Old March 6 2009, 08:21 AM   #62
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

^ It's going to be an interesting little mission for the Horsemen - and it'll lead in to the next story. I plan to do the final part in the trilogy starting in early April.
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Old March 7 2009, 10:59 PM   #63
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

^ I apologize for not posting an update last night/early this morning. I got a phone call at ~ 11:00 last night that my father had been taken to the hospital with the symptoms of a heart attack. He's fine now and on his way home, they claim it was a panic attack brought on by stress over his job. His company laid off almost 400 people last night (he was saved by one person - they kept 96 and he's # 96).
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Old March 7 2009, 11:36 PM   #64
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

Good luck and best speed to his health.

Still behind in the story, however, slowly getting up to date. Enjoying the story very much still. Will post a more thorough review tomorrow if not later tonight.
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Old March 8 2009, 08:28 AM   #65
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

^ Thanks. He's home now and he's asleep. Kinda interesting that today's my birthday too.
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Old March 10 2009, 12:06 AM   #66
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

Aw belated birthday.
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Old March 12 2009, 11:58 PM   #67
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

^ Thanks.

After a series of misadventures over the last week I plan to write the next part in this story tomorrow night.
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Old March 14 2009, 06:45 AM   #68
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

For years urban playgrounds were sites of fun and games for children. Kids ran around, pushing themselves as hard as they could, chasing each other playing games like tag and hide and go seek. Some played catch with their friends or kicked a ball around trying to stop the other from scoring a goal. There were kids that were just talking to each other and pretending to be grownups before their time. Then there were the grownups themselves that were behaving like children. Sitting at tables and on chairs they were gossiping about the latest celebrity news, the boring events of their lives, or who was sleeping with who. A few were yelling at their kids for acting like they were. Every so often you had a parent that was overly critical and told their kids that they had crooked teeth or some nonsense like that while eating pancakes. They really were amazing ways to relax and unwind for parents and kids alike.

That was before and this was now.

Today they were a lot different. These days amusement parks were little more than tombs to innocence lost. Swings blew in the air with their youthful occupants long gone. The see saws lifted in the breeze while the horses on the merry-go-round sneered in disturbed horror. Most were broken and the grounds were the same. In the future’s past the grounds had been lush. There were flowers, trees, grass, everything that you needed to feel at home. Today those grounds were nothing like they were meant to be. Now they were boneyards filled with the skulls and bones of their once happy go lucky players. The fires of Armageddon still burned in places and the marks of the Earth’s end were forever tattooed on the grounds. Litter and dried remains of yesterday fluttered in the gust.

Today the ruins had a visitor. Allison Young stood among the bones of the children and their parents surveying the remains of Skynet’s handiwork. Her hair was long and flowing and she felt pleased by that. With every infiltrator the hair was the hardest part to get right; the part that required the most work and time to try to replicate. The edges of the length rested atop her shoulders and the purple leather jacket that she wore. Her black tank top and deep washed dark jeans were a new arrival, but she liked them all the same. They were fitting somehow in her opinion. She remembered from her youth seeing a girl in very much the same clothes watching her as her mother Claire sat at a table nearby. But it wasn’t possible. Allison knew what she was. How could she have remembered something as a child? She clenched her fists in anger as the horse sneered at her with its broad teeth. She wanted to wipe that smirk off of its face. Desire though was irrelevant. She was a machine through and through. There was no changing that.

“You’re not who you think you are,” a voice came from no where. “Do you understand that yet?”

Allison turned from the carousel to the sliding board and saw a man sitting at the top of it looking down at her. He was an adult African American with dark brown eyes and dark hair. He was dressed in a white lab coat but he wore a military uniform beneath it the same as the rest of the human resistance. Her anger for the merry-go-round’s jokester of a horse subsided in the blink of an eye. Now she wanted the human. Orders flowed through her head in speeds incomprehensible to human minds. She went for him ready to strike ready to kill.

“Still thinking in terms from your old life I see.” He looked down and saw that she was about to stomp on the skull of a child, “Stop right there!” It was a screamed command.

There was no choice but to comply. Allison Young’s leg stopped in the space above the skull with only inches to spare between the two. Every command that her CPU directed to the leg assembly was rejected. Every demand she placed on her body was simply ignored as if it didn’t even matter. It was her body, her choice, but they had taken away those rights.

Standing with one leg in the air, “I am a machine. I think in the terms of my program.”

Danny Dyson shrugged, “Well you’re half right I guess so that’s better than nothing.” The Resistance’s dynamo jumped up and landed against the sliding board. Quickly he came from top to bottom and landed on his feet. In a quick, fluidic motion he was on his feet and right in her face. He was within striking distance of her arms though he showed no fear for what would come. Allison knew that there was no reason to resist. Dyson held the cards for the moment and she didn’t have any way of taking them from him just yet. The time would come though.

“So why don’t you come with me? We have a lot to see.”

“I have seen this location previously,” answered the infiltrator coolly. “This is the location of Hammerhead Bunker where I infiltrated the Resistance outpost alongside the infiltrator that you call William. We attacked through the mistakes of two of your outer defense patrolmen and the shortsightedness of one of your snipers – who later attempted to kill John Connor believing him deranged.”

Dyson flashed a knowing grin, “Who am I to argue when you’re right? But you’re not seeing the bigger picture. You’re seeing this place as it is today.” He looked around at the buildings and the playground that was in pieces. “Broken buildings – some falling in on themselves and others little more than skeletons standing upright by some miracle of engineering that made those pieces stronger than anyone could have imagined. Bodies laying in the muck decomposing in tombs that no one should be forced into. Trash blowing in the breeze and cars rusting like the worthless hunks of metal that they are. You’re just not seeing it the way I see it.”

In a flash everything changed. The hell of the future was replaced by an amazing past. Where the skeletons once stood were now towers of glass and steel challenging the sky above them. The silver sky was a brilliant azure blue with the sun shining brightly through the clouds. People weren’t hiding among the ancient ruins in this world. Instead they were running back in forth from place to place. Some even sat out in the open drinking coffee and looking in windows picking out things that they’d like to buy. Cars raced down the streets and people raced in between them crossing the roads from the many businesses that were alive. The sidewalks were still a little dirty and trash was still littering the walkway, but you couldn’t have your cake and eat it too.

“Welcome to the old world,” he said proudly, “this is before your kind… well kind of.”

“This is prior to Judgment Day,” Allison said in her monotone voice confirming what she already knew. There were hundreds of humans and none of them even regarded her. It was like she was invisible – except to young men – and that was what she needed. It aided with her mission. Any of these people were ripe for the picking. A simple hit to their temporal bone and they would be dead without any fuss.

A big man in a brown coat came up to her and smiled broadly with a grin like the Cheshire Cat from Through the Looking Glass. He was speaking in a form of English that the infiltrator didn’t really understand. It was likely that the human thought that he sounded cute or edgy. It then clicked. This was, as Skynet had installed into her databases, a common activity of humans in the past between male and females. This man was trying to get into her pants as the euphemism went. She didn’t understand the terminology, but she understood the act. Training with Charles Fischer had explained to her the importance of sexual intercourse in uncovering information. However, it was unlikely this human had anything of value to her. Better to just terminate and be done.

Dyson’s voice cut through again, “Don’t kill anyone.”

“It is what I am programmed to do,” it wasn’t a lie.

“It’s time that you learn to exceed that program,” Dyson proposed. “Human life is valuable and we enjoy our lives. We want this world, not the world that you gave us.”

The replica of Major Young looked around the city that now surrounded them, “I do not understand. I was not online during this period, yet I remember something similar from the youthful experiences of the woman I am based on. I do not understand the importance of the past.”

“This isn’t the past, Miss Young, this is the future.”

“That does not compute,” the machine was having difficulty understanding. “What is done is done. There is no way to change the past.”

Danny laughed, “Stop thinking in such three dimensional terms. It’s time to start thinking outside the box. You have Skynet’s database coursing through your systems. You know all about Topanga Canyon and what was going on there. You know the truth about the mission Cromartie was on.”

“Time Displacement is impossible,” informed the skinjob. “It is a theoretical proposal without merit in fact.”

“Sometimes impossible things do become fact. Only a few years ago the thought of machines thinking for themselves was impossible,” pointed out the human.

Allison was being taken back over by the mechanics of her processors and the human side was fading, “I am a cybernetic organism controlled by a triple configuration neural net central processor based on positronic circuitry. Beneath the synthetic skin of my body is a hyperalloy combat chassis. I am programmed for assassination missions. That is my primary mission. Please specify someone to terminate.”

“You came so far so fast I should have expected you to resist again,” Danny sighed and leaned against the cool brick. He crossed his arms and stared at the tin can as she stood there leering at each of the civilians as they passed by her. “You’re not thinking clearly,” he told her. “You're not going to be here to murder someone in cold blood, quite the opposite in fact, you’re going to save lives. Your new mission’s to help people; to protect people. But it’s not for the timid.”

“I have no emotions,” reported the infiltrator, “I can not be timid, apprehensive, fearful, or any combination of any other emotional response.”

“Again you could have fooled me,” the man grabbed her hand and opened it. The fingernails of the female appearing tin cans all had one distinctive characteristic: their fingernails were metal and claw like. Allison’s were no different. The synthskin was broken with blood already caking the open wounds.

The replica pondered the damage, “My synthetic skin has been damaged.”

“From your outburst when you saw that horse staring at you.” Danny tapped his temple, “Remember I’m in here just like you are. I know what you think. You wanted to destroy that horse for smiling at you even though it was a noncombatant.”

“That statement is illogical.”

“So is that one since you know I’m in your head,” pointed out the human. “But let’s not shrink away from your purpose in life my friend. Your one true calling is to save, not destroy; help, not hurt. Sounds impossible I know, but we live in impossible times.” He motioned toward the people around them like a game show host. “There’s a whole bunch of people in this world, my dear Allison, and they all need your help. Your mission is their survival.”

The replica of Allison Young tilted her head at that thought. “I was programmed to destroy human life.”

“I think we’ve been over that,” reminded Dyson, “More than once even. Guess what: I don’t care about your past. I care about your future. You’re goin’ to a time where there’s very few things right in the world, but the right still outweighs the wrong. You’re going to save us all by protecting two people.”

From the shadows of an alleyway came a man and a woman. The woman looked like she was built for battle. She wore a tank top not much different from that that Allison was wearing. The woman had a puncture mark on her shoulder that had healed over and minor wounds that had healed over. Her hair was a dark brown and nearly black. Her eyes were bright and green. There was a hardness to her, but a vulnerability. Something about her was haunting to the machine. It knew that she was a threat, but only to her kind and not the humans.

The man was younger with brown hair and bangs that fell into his eyes. He was athletic and wearing a novelty t-shirt that looked like it was splattered with paint. The man wore a jacket not much different than what Allison herself was wearing other than the color. The boy’s eyes were a cool blue and there was an inner strength. The machine knew these two, but the response she expected wasn’t the one that came.

“Meet your mission,” Dyson walked up behind them and put his hands on their shoulders. “Meet the Connors. Your mission is to save them.”

Allison shifted her head and body weight while the CPU outlined the two in green and listed them as allied combatants. “Save them from who?”

Danny pointed behind her, “Them.”

When Allison Young turned even she felt a brief second of fear at the sight that was standing before her – her processors labeling each of the crowd in red and identifying them all as enemy combatants in tiny text. It was a sea of people and people who weren’t people. Police officers had their guns drawn and trained on the group. SWAT Team members stood hunkered down with their rifles’ laser sights on the Connors and Allison herself. FBI, SRT, they all were out for blood. They weren’t the worst. With the group were others still that weren’t as they seemed. Hundreds of machines – each with a different appearance – stood there with weapons drawn. One, a Model 101, held a minigun that it had pointed at Sarah’s head. From a puddle on the ground came another as it congealed into a menacing humanoid form. The fake police officer pointed a finger and it extended like a sword.

“You may be built to last,” Dyson was behind her watching, “but so is the world and so are the bad guy and gals and its. There’s a hell of a lot against you – more than any human could ever hope to withstand – but you’re not the best of the best anymore. You may have been top dog, but all of your former friends have labeled you an enemy. Now its time for you to retake your place as big dog in the pack. Its time to quit running from your destiny, Allison. It’s time to fight.”

The machines moved forward toward the Connors and their mechanical guardian. “Its gonna be a hell of a fight.” Dyson disappeared but his voice echoed in her ears, “Place your bets.”
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Old March 15 2009, 05:36 AM   #69
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

Just had to point this out: we just had view 1234.

Also, more to the point of the story, I will be beginning the end of it within the next few days. I plan to have the story completed by Easter.
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Old March 18 2009, 05:27 AM   #70
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

General Katherine Mason hated field work. Since the dawning of the Resistance she’d been more of a supporting player serving behind the lines as a veterinarian and, from time to time, a physician for injured TechCOM forces. When the Resistance attacked Serrano Point during the Battle of Avila Beach, Kate had been behind the lines helping at the field hospital trying to keep wounded soldiers in the fight. All the while she was scared to death about her son: Scott Mason. Named after his father, Scott was little more than fifteen and he was already fighting for humanity’s freedom from the machines. Katherine didn’t want to let him go, but she knew that she really didn’t have a choice. Her son had a fiery streak that was just as strong as his mother’s. When he put his mind to something and was focused on it there was no stopping him.

Leaving his mother at home to worry was something he did a lot these days. While she worked in the field hospital and they fought Kate had to tend to a lot of boys who shouldn’t have been there. These were kids that were fighting, not deserving of the cards they were dealt, but they were stronger than anyone could have thought possible. That didn’t help much as she treated their wounds and sent them back out onto the line. All the while she dreaded, fearing that Scott would be next.

Then life played a cruel trick on her. The endos outflanked them and came in from behind. Command and Control were taken out and, by virtue of her rank, Katherine Mason had become her father: a General. It was her job to deal with the arrangements, her job to send those kids out to die. It wasn’t a job she relished. With each passing second she had prayed that someone higher up would appear out of nowhere and take over the reigns of the war horse. No one came. From the hospital where she should have been doing triage she issued orders, sent hundreds of men and women of all ages against the machines, and they somehow pulled it out of their asses and won the battle. Her son had even survived.

Because of what they accomplished John Connor, her longtime friend, made her the Commanding Officer of the newly captured Serrano Point and installed her and her staff as the overseers. Mainly her posting was ceremonial and she let her Exec handle the commanding part. She was more comfortable tending to her dogs. But, rank had its privileges. When the Resistance broke through the barriers of the machine’s coding the key leadership were each assigned a machine of their own. Katherine Mason was one of the few to get them. What she was assigned was one she never expected to see again.

He looked exactly the same as she saw him inside the bunker. His hair was in a military crop, his eyes fixed steady forward. He had the body of Hercules and the strength of Sampson before he lost his hair. The machine stood perfectly still, but there was an underlying readiness that made her know he could strike at any time. Despite being older, he was only a Eight Fifty when the majority were Trip Eights, he was still more than a match for most of the Skynet forces that would try to hurt her. Mainly though he was meant to be an assassin; that making him more than a capable bodyguard for her. One day she’d have to send him through the transporter to save her in the past, but for now it was comforting beyond belief to have him back. It made her feel safe.

Then John Connor’s voice came through her memory: “No one’s ever safe.”

How right he was. A short while ago they’d received an emergency transmission that a Skynet Base had been found deep inside what was considered to be a safe zone. The Resistance Soldier (Miles Beaumont – whoever the hell he was) had cut off midsentence but that just relayed to them the importance of the find. Skynet wanted to keep their newest hiding place secret. What better way to say hello than to blow them to hell? General Mason selected one of the best strike teams available – the Razors – and ordered them to investigate. But there was something else. She knew that she had to be a part of this mission; that she had to be on the front line for this battle.

So she went. Colonel Michaels had hated the idea from the get go and threatened to have her relieved and put under a psych eval. It was his right, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. Their shrink was killed by a Houdini because she decided to stray too far from the base. Ed knew though that there was no stopping her when she was set on something. Better just to agree and get it over with. Though her infiltrator protector wasn’t too happy about it either. The Eight Fifties didn’t have the emotional protocols programmed into the Triple Eights, but they made their points known with cold hard logic. The chances of her surviving this ‘ill advised mission due to the security risks inherent in attacking a Skynet Outpost’ were only 18%. Her gut told her though that this was the place that she needed to be.

As they crossed through the necropolis that was once her home of Los Angeles she was a bit on edge. Most of it was fear of the mission and what could come of it, but there was more to it then that. She knew that this could very well be a suicide mission just as Moe (the 101) had said. It wasn’t the first time that she faced death at the hands of the machines, but this was the first time that she was going to be on the front lines with her son during such a fight. When she selected the best of the best she knew that group included her son; nonetheless, her brain wouldn’t let her remember that. Or, perhaps, it was her heart. Back in the day Mostow had told her that she and her children were important, perhaps this was why. She had to let him grow into the leader that he needed to be. That meant she couldn’t hold him back. But it was hard to imagine. What if you knew that you were going to do something great, but the cost was something terrible had to happen?

That was a question she wrestled with every day. The Razors were one of the Resistance’s best kept secrets. While not as capable as the Horsemen or Lieutenant Dietze’s team onboard the Jimmy Carter (but Queeg said they wouldn’t be back for three more days and he was their driver), they were more than capable and had training that made them among the best machine hunters on Earth. In the past they’d carried out missions that others couldn’t have dreamed of and come back with only scratches – if that. They had casualties, but one of the lowest rates of any group, and they were the reason that the Resistance won Avila Beach. Their quick thinking made it possible to capture the Tactical Unit and stop them from melting it down.

But were they capable enough to win this battle? Kate hoped to God they were. As they marched forward – the five of them – she hoped that this wasn’t a case of wrong place at the wrong time. There were many battles, but maybe this wasn’t the one that they were meant to be at. Why hadn’t she saved Moe’s chip? If she had she could’ve just plugged and played him into the body and found out everything that she needed to know. Why didn’t she ask more questions? The way that day went it wasn’t like she’d probably remember anyway. Most of it was still a blur and it wasn’t getting better with the progress of time either.

Time travel – it could make you want to tear your hair out.

“Where are we?” The General questioned as they passed through an arch made by support beams from a collapsed building.

Moe was, of course, the one to answer. While their connections to the Skynet communications network were severed for the Resistance’s protection (in extreme cases they could be authorized to reconnect if needed) they were still there. That meant everything from the artificial brain of Skynet buried in some laboratory they’d yet to find to the orbital GPS satellites were at its disposal.

It spoke without inflection of any type; just a perfect monotone with a hint of an Austrian accent, “Pico Boulevard.”

Every time she heard the skinjob talk it brought a smile to Kate’s face. Years ago her father, an Air Force Officer in Special Operations, had worked with a Sergeant that served as the design template for the Model One oh One. What always tickled her was the voice change. Sergeant Candy had a distinctive Texan drawl that you couldn’t ever forget. This machine had a different voice. It was deeper, more macho, with a thick accent from Eastern Europe. It was more fitting.

“How much longer would you estimate, Moe?” Kate’s son Scott asked wondering if he should take a drink from his canteen. What a way to spend your sixteenth birthday. Not too long ago she would’ve been taking him out for a driving lesson. Instead, these days, she got to take him on a hunt of mechanical killing machines that wanted to kill him. Happy Birthday indeed.

“Three minutes, forty-seven seconds.”

Kate didn’t want them to go right to the coordinates of the last transmission of Beaumont. They were stopping a mile or so out of the way so that they could get a glimpse of the layout and, with any luck, a backdoor they could sneak through. Not that you could really sneak onto a Skynet base. The sensor strips ran along the walls and Skynet always knew when someone who wasn’t supposed to be there was inside its facilities. Self improvement was its friend and humanity’s enemy.

From the side of the group Corporal Davison grumbled, “Damned metal probably leadin’ us into some sorta trap.”

“My systems are operating within normal parameters,” said the machine in their party. “I am not under Skynet’s influence any longer.”

General Mason didn’t dare confirm or deny that to the men in her team. Truth was the Time Displacement Equipment – the Temporal Transporter – was still classified. Only a handful of Resistance personnel knew about it and not even Kate was supposed to be one of them. Past experience was the only reason she even knew it existed. “Let’s push on.”

Davison held his pulse rifle with the barrel close to aim at Moe, “Just as long as he stays ahead a me we ain’t got no problems.”

“Stow it,” ordered Sergeant Kovach. “We have a job to do and we’re gonna do it. The metal’s fine – it’s on our side. So cut the damn chatter.”

“Yes Sir,” mumbled the Corporal.

Young Scott Mason was walking next to his mother, “They just don’t know about Moe, Mom. They don’t know what we know about him; what he did for us.”

“And they can’t,” reminded Kate. “Not yet.”

Before anyone else could say anything the scrubbed infiltrator paused and held an arm up. It was telling them in no uncertain terms to stop, that something ahead of them was a risk. The machine turned its head in sweeping motions from right to left. While the humans were limited the machine was scanning different spectrums looking for surprises. It was thorough, methodical. Its focus was unwavering.

“What the hell’s it doing’? Tryin’ to get us caught?”

“Negative,” interrupted the machine. “I am detecting combat ahead. Weapons fire is confirmed.”

Kate lifted her right eyebrow, “Distance?”

“The coordinates of the Skynet Outpost we are to investigate. I am also detecting the engine thrust of a Hunter Killer Aerial – VTOL classification.”

“Makes sense,” Kovach joined the conversation. “They’re protecting themselves. Standard procedure and all that is to have guardians patrol the bases. Isn’t that right?”

“Affirmative.”

It was Scott that asked the obvious question, “But who are they fighting?”

Kate feared that question’s answer. She knew that General Perry and the Horsemen were on their way to Serrano Point and this was the route they’d take. General Perry was John Connor’s second. They couldn’t risk his being captured. While she would’ve preferred stealth instead of the direct approach it looked like they weren’t getting a choice in it. Time for the direct approach.

“Moe,” she formed her question carefully, “can you hack in and tell me what we’re up against?”

“If I would attempt to infiltrate the Skynet system for anything more complex than location finding I calculate a 64% probability that my systems could be overrode and control be restored to Skynet. Do you wish me to continue?”

For a moment she wished that she were no one other than little Kate Brewster home safe in her bed, but being the leader sometimes meant that you had to roll a hard six and make the choice that you didn’t really want to make. Regardless of the consequences.

“You can’t be serious,” protected Davison. “If he turns or’s hacked then we’re screwed. He knows ‘bout Serrano, he knows ‘bout us, and he knows that General Perry’s out there.”

Kovach stepped in front of the Corporal and stared him dead in the eyes, “You need to learn to quit while you’re ahead. Do your damned job, quit your bitching, or you won’t have to worry about what metal’s gonna do to you because I’m gonna do it first. Do you get me?”

“Yes Sir,” he said grumbling again.

James nodded to General Mason, “It’s your show Ma’am.”

How she didn’t want that to be true. With a heavy sigh, “Moe, do it.”



Firewalls were really an impressive thing. Designed years ago during the age when computers were nothing more than infants they were used to block unauthorized access to computer systems from outside sources. That was, of course, if you were smart enough to know how to use them properly and not stupid enough to download something that would override their defenses. To Skynet there was no such thing as a stupid decision. It monitored at all times, watching and waiting should it be threatened from outside. The Resistance was smart – it had programmers who knew more than their fair share about computers – so that meant that Skynet had to be smarter.

It didn’t take long to discover the intrusion. Little things like GPS Scans hadn’t been much of a threat, but direct attempts at communication weren’t something that it liked. Hacking was something that humans hated, but Skynet hated it more unless it was the one doing it. The computer brain locked in on the source and began to scan the networks. In orbit of the Earth it had thousands of satellites – some of its own design and others relics from the past – at its disposal. With simple thoughts it redirected them to scan the surface for the source. Meanwhile its advanced equations were calculating, looking, preparing to terminate.

The source was close to one of the data nodes. It was on a transceiver assembly Skynet itself had devised for endoskeletal use. It was an older model though not used on the front lines anymore. A T-850 it had to lock down its modem so that it couldn’t break the connection. Time was growing more critical. The machine consciousness had to focus more directly. Its attention was unwavering, its ground units now relying on their base programs to oversee the war in their homes.

Within seconds it had it. The source was on what was once Pico Boulevard near what they had called Pico Tower not long ago. Orbital satellites were locked in. Four humans and one machine – an older model just as Skynet had suspected. The connection was established. Skynet was breaking through the protocols. The entirety of its collective consciousness was breaking through the firewall of the scrubbed as the humans called them. It took only a few more seconds for the machine mind to be reached. When humans took Skynet’s children they had to erase the memories, but they were still there buried deep in the subconscious. Skynet brought them back to life with one task: TERMINATE.
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Old March 18 2009, 05:29 AM   #71
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

^ I thought that I'd bring this back with a return to one of the two most interesting characters from Terminator 3 and the upcoming Salvation. Katherine Brewster (in this reality she is Katherine Mason) and the T-850 from the film (called Moe in honor of Jonathan Mostow).
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Old March 20 2009, 05:22 AM   #72
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

New update tomorrow.
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Old March 23 2009, 06:02 AM   #73
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

It was like a picture out of Armageddon. Downtown Los Angeles stood as a shell of what it once was. Once towering buildings were now nothing more than a mismatch of steel beams held together with a lot of luck and a little bit of prayer. Concrete walls were crumbling down with cracks running all along their once smooth structure. In the distance, despite the hell that they lived in, birds were chirping and sounds of animals roaring echoed through the distance. That was the only tranquil thing among the bones of the ancestors. Covering the ground were the bleached white skulls of people of all shapes and sizes – their diversities gone in a world where all that was left was bone. All were equal now. There were no gaps between rich and poor, homeowners and homeless, men and women, white or black, all were equal in death.

Except they were thought of as the lucky ones; envied by the men and women left behind in a world where struggling to survive took on a whole new meaning. But all of that changed in seconds. From the crystal clear blue sky a charge of red and blue energy slammed down from the heavens and into the ground. Where once a pile of yesterday’s heroes had been laid to rest was only a smoking crater. Fire erupted from the hole like a volcano spewing its dangerous contents along the countryside. The fireballs weren’t alone. A second, then a third, fourth, and fifth charges tore into the ground followed but they didn’t stop there. More and more were coming.

The Four Horsemen – the best of the Resistance – didn’t run from much but right now that was all that they could do. They’d found and rescued the two women that they spotted from the distance; nonetheless, that wasn’t the end of their trial. What was once only a single VTOL HK had now become three. The first was in pretty bad shape from a few well placed plasma pulses but it was still a weapon of war. Twin spotlights searched the ground as its brothers hovered on the outskirts laying suppression fire. They each lobbed their plasma beams trying to make the Resistance soldiers come out of hiding. A few times it worked, but a more often than not it only reaffirmed their decision to stay put.

But Skynet wouldn’t take no for an answer. It kept pushing forward with its weapons of war. They were relentless but that wasn’t anything new. It was what they were programmed for. One of the energy surges cut into the ground very near to where Derek Reese and Sumner were hiding. Catherine Luna and their medic – a girl named Lauren Fields – were there too. They’d escaped from a Skynet Work Camp that had once been the Aircraft Carrier Enterprise of the US Nuclear Navy. They’d seen some things in that long time and were frazzled. Chief among them was the famous Luna. Hurt during the Battle of Cheyenne Mountain, the woman looked like a shell of herself. She couldn’t be the woman that Derek Reese had heard of. Then there was Fields who seemed like she couldn’t keep her eyes off him.

Water rained down on them from a puddle that Skynet’s forces had hit. Derek peered out from beneath the remains of a one time tanker to get a feel for what was going on. In the distance he saw the third HK move out of position and come closer. It was moving dangerously fast. Then he saw it. Twin plasma cannons arced forward and locked right on him. A laser finder pointed directly at his head.

“Move!” The Resistance Lieutenant screamed as they all raced from beneath the truck. Two plasma bursts smashed through the Semi throwing it into the air like it was nothing. More laser pulses came alongside and followed the group as they ran as fast as they could for anywhere to hide.

Ahead of them stood the remains of a building – broken like the rest but it’d give them enough cover to ride out this hell storm. The group ran but the machine knew their plan. A missile shot from the main body of the craft as fast as the speed of sound. The cloud of vapor dissipated right as the weapon of war slammed into their refuge. The building of stone was gone in a blink. Fire poured out of the windows and doors as the walls exploded outward. A debris cloud grew from the mausoleum of yesterday and engulfed one of the soldiers ahead. A scream could barely be heard among the roar as part of the walls remains collapsed down on the soldier. It smashed him with a force like a bug beneath a shoe.

Earl Wise dove behind a small protrusion of broken metal that barely covered him. Lauren Fields pulled herself over the lip and landed right next to him. Both were covered in cuts and bruises from their race to survive. Not far away another of the charged pulses hit the ground and sent more debris into the air. The Resistance Captain grabbed the girl and covered her with his body as the rock and metal passed. He felt the impact as one of the mounds of brick hit his shoulder. He bit down hard trying to control the pain hearing the words Connor had told him while in the infirmary.

“Pain can be controlled,” he heard John’s voice, “you just disconnect it.”

Lauren rolled him over and became the medic that she was famous for. She ripped open his shirt and looked at the injuries that were left behind. She was shocked by what she saw beneath the skin. Where there were once scars and damaged tissue was now pristine flesh. It was perfect it every form of the word without even a blemish. This wasn’t the same tissue as the man she’d done the physical for before their mission.

“Fischer did something to me on the Enterprise,” said Wise. “He toyed with me and gave me a perfect body – some Skynet parlor trick designed to torture me.”

“That wasn’t exactly torture,” she spat back. “Talk to me when they have a machine rape you. Then you’ll know what torture really is.” She felt the wounds again, “You’re lucky though. Your wound’s are superficial and nothing more. You should be dead because of that hit.”

“Just my pride’s a little hurt,” Earl told her as he peered over their makeshift wall. He adjusted his rifle and took a peek through the scope at the HK that hung nearby. Its guns were actively searching for targets and were making broad sweeps. It’d probably deduced that both he and Fields had been killed when the rock pounded them. How that wasn’t the case was really beyond his comprehension anyway. How had he survived?

Lauren finished her diagnosis despite having to fight to see his eyes. “No sign of brain trauma.”

“I could’ve told you that,” said Wise, “some people’d say I didn’t have one in the first place.” He adjusted the scope, “The HK’s doing an active search for targets. I can’t find the other two.”

“Wise.”

“If only I had my sniper rifle I could probably take that thing down,” said the Captain. “A good hit to the engine.”

“Wise!” It was a scream to break his concentration and get him to focus on her for a second.

It worked, “What?”

She pointed up, “I think I found that HK.”

Earl turned in time to see the massive Aerial HK emerge from behind a wall of white smoke. It lowered itself down toward them with its weapons arcing toward the two soldiers. The starboard emplacement had itself pointed right at Doctor Fields – red laser sight positioned in the center of her forehead. The port emplacement was locked on him. The Captain took a deep breath and had a feeling that one of those energy pulses would soon cut through his skull and break it into little more than a pink mist.

“You wouldn’t happen to know of another storm drain we could hide in?”

“Didn’t work last time,” he reminded remembering the Series 900 that he fought in the sewer. How did he survive then even?

Then he heard a crack followed by a loud boom. The port engine of the HK began to smoke and shimmer as a fountain of sparks burst through. A second later the entire engine assembly was engulfed in flames. The black smoke mixed with the white and it lost control over itself. The HK spun wildly out of position and crashed into the remains of one of the last standing buildings. Above the uppermost floors fell in and to the ground taking the remains of the HK with it. The flying machine was buried among the rubble.

Standing behind one of the columns holding a deadly looking gun was Lieutenant Derek Thomas Reese. Some distance away a new bloom of fire rose toward the stars. He shifted the gun and slung it back up over his back, “What the hell are you two sitting around for? The whole world goes to hell and you’re just going to sit on your hands? Let’s get moving. We have to go.”
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Old March 25 2009, 04:48 AM   #74
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

I've been thinking about it recently and should I continue with the pauses I've been giving for people to get caught up?
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Old March 25 2009, 09:56 AM   #75
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

nx1701g wrote: View Post
I've been thinking about it recently and should I continue with the pauses I've been giving for people to get caught up?
Yes.
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