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Old April 29 2009, 07:36 PM   #91
Location: The Bridge
Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

Last edited by NX74205; April 29 2009 at 07:55 PM.
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Old May 1 2009, 06:22 AM   #92
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

Derek Reese could feel the warm blood rolling down the side of his head but couldn’t bring himself to care. His entire body felt like it’d been hit by a tractor trailer and even that was a light description. The Resistance Lieutenant knew that he had internal injuries and at least a couple broken bones. Chances were high that even if he got to a Resistance Outpost that he’d die, but death would come as a relief. The Second Lieutenant just rested his head against the cool floor and stared above.

In the distance he heard the sounds of mortal versus immortal combat. Shrieks from metal scraping metal were coming from deeper in the broken building and there was an occasional grunt from Captain Wise. There was something definitely odd about that man. Derek like him – despite giving him such a hard time – but now he was sure that there was something off. There was no way he or anyone could have made such a perfect shot from that far away. Then there was the rubble that collapsed on him without even a scratch. Superman would have had a scratch or two from that and all he did was pushed them along. Then there was the most damning part. Somehow this guy could survive hand to hand combat against not one but two machines. The rogue that tried to kill him, Joshua, had been sparring with him not long prior to his defection back to Skynet. Now he was fighting a Series 900 and it was designed to take on other machines. The evidence was really stacking up.

For the moment though Derek Reese couldn’t do anything about it. With his injuries he knew that he was of no use to anyone in this fight. He was an easy target. A machine could just walk up to him and put a bullet in his head and there wouldn’t be a thing that he could do. Maybe a T-1 Tank would just roll over him with its treads as it tried to help its colleagues. Using as much energy as he could he turned his head and looked at the fight. The soldier’s ear rested against the ground and he saw the machine and Wise just stop their fight suddenly. They were staring at something. Then he heard it. It sounded like gears rotating and then air escaping. Something mechanical was moving and whatever it was it was massive. Derek rolled his head back up toward the shattered ceiling and looked at the cracks running through it. Somehow he had to help. Somehow he had to fight.

Using as much energy as he could Derek did a sit-up and it burned more than the fires of hell. The pain seared through him like the fires of Armageddon and the taste of blood and bile rose inside his mouth. Maybe the T-1 had rolled over his chest and he just didn’t remember it. The Lieutenant could feel the blood pooling but he had to join this fight. They had to win. All he could do though was sit there and stare. That was when he saw it lurking in the shadows.

There were rules to living in this day and age and number one was to always travel in the shadows. The machines could see in the dark, but it helped to avoid the scavengers – human wastes that fought only for themselves. Earl Wise was one of them before and look where he was taking them. There was a shape standing among the darkness. It looked human but that didn’t mean anything anymore. The machines were smart and they made themselves look like anyone they could use. The man was the right height for a Trip Eight and he had the build. He wasn’t muscular like the first generation Eight Zero Zeroes, but he was athletic like a Triple Eight. As he stepped forward Derek could see that he was in an urban warfare camouflage pattern and had a Desert Eagle strapped to his belt. A tattered trench coat covered much of his chest and his name. Derek had seen that coat before but where. His face left the shadows. The man had a patchy beard and a face Derek knew he knew. It wasn’t possible.

“On your feet Soldier,” ordered Kyle Reese. “On your feet!”

“I can’t,” protested Derek. “It’s too much. The metal bastards got the jump on us.” He spat blood.

Kyle looked at the blood in the spit, “Pain can be controlled. You just disconnect it. Remember? You taught me that. You and Connor.”

The elder brother looked at the younger one, “How are you here? Connor told me you were gone.”

“I’m on a mission,” said the younger to the older, “just like you are. You have to survive, you have to make it.”

“I’m gonna die,” Derek admitted.

The Sergeant laughed, “It won’t be the first time.”

“I miss you brother,” Lieutenant Reese told his brother. “What happened to you?”

“I’m here now,” he answered. “I’m here to help you – the Reese boys back together again one last time. Should be one for the history books.”

“Aren’t they always,” Derek took a deep breath and pushed himself through the pain. It didn’t hurt as much once he got up off the ground and drove himself deeper into the work. Pain could be controlled you just had to disconnect it. Now was the time to disconnect it. “Kyle, what is this place?”

Kyle Reese looked around, “I’m not sure. Whatever it is it’s important to Skynet. They don’t keep places guarded like this just for fun. They don’t even patrol like this.”

Derek winced in pain as the headache grew worse. Concussion? “Not unless it’s something big. This has to be that new outpost we heard rumors about; the one where Skynet’s doing all that research into the zombies. What do you think Kyle? Could that be it?”

“You’re the boss,” the Sergeant peered around a corner, “you tell me.”

Lieutenant Reese thought about it as he joined his brother and peered down the hallway. Wise and the machine were gone and he couldn’t hear them anymore. Small favors; it gave him time to think about what Kyle said. It was his idea in the first place and it was the best possibility. Skynet didn’t waste time and resources like this unless it had something important. They didn’t even have a response like this in a full scale invasion of a Resistance outpost.

“I think we’re right. This is a lab,” Derek gasped as it hit him, “or it’s a staging ground for an invasion.”

Kyle grabbed the gun firmly clasped to his belt but only rested his hand on the handle, “So what do we do about it?”

For the first time since he was attacked a broad, yet painful, smile formed on Derek’s lips. “We kick some metal ass.”

Charles Fischer sat with crossed arms watching his monitors as his specimens all came back home. At the main elevator Doctor Lauren Fields and Captain Catherine Luna were staring down the barrels of two Six Hundred Series Endoskeletons demanding that they come with them. Above in the skeletal remains of the office building Earl Wise and one of the Series Nine Hundreds were locked in battle against each other. Then there was another one that got away: Derek Reese. It would be good to have all of his playthings back home. He missed his toys and relished every minute with them. Soon he could get back to his great work.

As he watched the video though the door to his private office opened without announcement. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know what was going on. One of the infiltrators, the one that Skynet had labeled Myron Stark, came through and stood watching. The machines and Skynet didn’t care about little things like privacy and it was surprising. Even when a human was alone at a Skynet base they were never really alone. Sensor strips ran along each of the rooms giving Skynet a constant view of what its subjects were doing. There was no where that was off limits to the machine supercomputer. Even the closets were closely monitored by the mechanism.

“I suppose you want something,” Charles typed on the keyboard.

“Affirmative,” it answered approaching. “Skynet wants to know why you released the entry for this base to the humans.”

Charles watched Derek Reese talking with curiosity. What could he be doing? Without taking his eyes off the screen, “If Skynet wants to know the answer to my question why doesn’t it ask me directly?”

“Skynet is losing faith in your dedication to our work. If you have I have been instructed to handle the situation accordingly.”

“Probably by terminating me to avoid me creating another security breach,” theorized the human in Skynet’s employ. “Skynet can rest assured that I have no plans on turning my back on the great work. If I did I wouldn’t have sent a group of endoskeletons to arrest them on arrival.”

Stark didn’t move an inch or betray any kind of emotion. His stare just kept burrowing into Charles’ body. “Be advised if at any point I deem you to be a threat to Skynet…”

“Let me guess: terminated?” Charles interrupted the machine.

“You are smarter than you look,” it answered and left the room.

“Prick,” Fischer mumbled as he leaned back in his chair once the door was closed. At least the subroutines that were uploaded were somewhat effective in the Series 888. Charles wouldn’t mind when Stark was sent back in time on his mission to terminate Mark Wyman on the eve of his inauguration as the Governor of California. At least it would be one less that he’d have to deal with. Skynet needed to send that one red head back again to serve as liaison. At least it was nice to look at.

Charles pushed the keyboard up on the desktop and propped his elbow up on the tabletop next to the monitor. He leaned in and rested his chin on his fist so that he could get a better view of the video feed from the cameras. All of his toys were really coming back home for the very first time in what seemed like a millennia. It was like Christmas morning to him and he was a very special little boy that Santa brought the very best toys. Merry Christmas indeed.

Sergeant Kovach of the Razors hated leaving General Mason behind, but his Commanding Officer and worse the Commander in Chief of the Resistance itself had both given him direct orders to move on and help the squad that was under attack. Kevin didn’t understand what was so damn important about the mission of that particular squad. He knew that they were in trouble but that was no reason not to arrange for them to get the reinforcements that they so desperately needed. As the Earth exploded before him he wished for those reinforcements now more than ever. The machines were everywhere on this battlefield and they weren’t making it easy on him. His vision was filled now with Series 800 endoskeletons and up. There were, thank God himself, none of the T-1 Tanks running around but there was an HK hovering about. That could all change in the blink of an eye and he kept on edge.

The training he’d received as a member of the United States National Guard had been a lot of help to him over the years in his quest to stay alive. It was best though at night instead of during the day, but it was meaningless to the machines. They could see in the dark and that was just another reason why he hated the machines. That and they killed his family. His wife and children lived not too far from Three Mile Island Pennsylvania and Skynet destroyed it on Judgment Day. Kevin only survived because he’d been off on maneuvers training with the Mexicans on drug interdiction missions. He never forgave himself for that survival, but he’d make the machines pay for what they did. Kevin never pushed himself over the limit though. When the going got tough he usually would keep fighting; however, when there was just no hope he knew that there was value in a strategic retreat.

This was one of those times. Sergeant Kovach raced down the alleyway toward the office building with all the explosions to get his piece of the action when something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He stopped and peered through the window to see the flames of hell flicking deep inside along the remains of a Hunter Killer Tank. Scattered among the debris strewn along the floor were the remains of not only humans but machines. One skull even seemed to still have some power still running to it only no body to house it. There were two machines still active but they didn’t appear to have any weapons other than their hands. They were staring down at two bodies on the floor. Kevin recognized the uniforms: they were Resistance. He had to help his friends.

Tightening his grip on the plasma assault rifle he slammed in the broken door and pulled the trigger on his rifle. Powerful energy pulses dashed out from the barrel of the gun and slammed against the machines. Two of the pulses hugged the torso of one of the machines and the third blast enveloped the same machine melting its head down to water. The other machine leapt into action though and came for him. It was a grappler designed to fight with hands and not guns. As he fell back to miss one of the punches and then rolled to miss a devastating blow he pulled his gun from his belt and fired the entire clip at the skull. None of the hits did much damage at any rate and only accomplished a temporary confusion of the machine. He’d hoped to break through the CPU port but it was an unanswered prayer.

Fortunately it’d given his mind time to act. That was one edge of the machines when they were set to read and write: they could think faster than any human ever could. Even the reads, which the machines Skynet sent out on their own, had an incredible computational ability that rivaled a human, but not as advanced as a read and write. Kevin had time to pull away and evade another hit. He was back to his feet and was backing away from the machine in the smoke filled room. As the Sergeant backed away as quickly as he could he tripped over the rifle that had been knocked away from him and fumbled for it. As quickly as he could he brought the rifle up and pointed it at the machine’s head. With two direct blasts to the head Kevin reduced it to little more than molten slag. The remains of the machine fell to the ground with a thud.

“Mess with the best and you die like the rest,” taunted the human as he pulled the trigger one last time. The beam broke through the shielding and destroyed the power generator. Holding his gun as rest he remembered what brought him in here and ran to the side of the men he saw lying on the floor. Two men, covered in wounds, strung up like Skynet prisoners waiting for a transport to take them. One he didn’t recognize but the other was clear.

“General Perry?”

The African American General coughed and struggled to talk, “Never heard of him. You got the wrong guy. I don’t know no Perry.”

“General it’s safe. I’m Kovach, Kevin Kovach of Serrano Point,” the man explained fast. “I’m one of the Razors – we were sent out to investigate the death of a scout when the Resistance ordered us to help you.”

“I told you kid I don’t know no one named Perry and I ain’t no part of no Resistance,” he said it angrily. “Quit calling me that. My name’s James.”

It was part of a code, “I see. Pardon me though but do you have a match?”

“I use a lighter,” General Perry coughed.

“Better still,” he said kneeling in.

Justin looked around him at the devastation that surrounded them. The lobby was about to cave in and the moans and groans only supported that belief. “Until they go wrong.”

“Exactly,” finished the Sergeant. “What happened?”

“The Horsemen were escorting me to the rendezvous and we were all going to Serrano to set up the new base. While we were on our way we caught wind of some fighting and came to assist only to find survivors from a Skynet base. We’ve been under attack ever since. This wasn’t an accident though,” the General coughed, “this was staged. We were meant to take this route, we were meant to be attacked.”

Kevin checked the General, “Sir you have massive injuries. We need to get you and Timms out of here and to Serrano or at least to General Mason so that she can patch you up so that we can hopefully get you to Serrano.”

“Katherine Mason?” Asked the General. “You left her alone?”

“No choice,” he answered honestly. “Her son was injured in an attack. Her bodyguard was taken over by Skynet and restored to his defaults. He tried to kill us all and achieved it with some. The General’s trying to make sure her son isn’t one of them.”

Perry grabbed his lapels, “Listen and listen good Sergeant. Get back to the General and have her get on the horn. We have a traitor: Connor’s metal turned against us. She set this all up so that we’d get killed in the process. This is one of Skynet’s bases and she knew where it was.”

“We need to get you out of here, Sir,” Kovach protested. “Can you walk?”

“Not well,” he answered. “Timms?”

The other Resistance member coughed and stirred to life. He’d been listening, “I feel like I got run over by a tank.”

“You did,” Kovach said looking at the burnt out remains behind them. “Can you walk?”

“Not likely,” he said just as the sound of one of the HK’s flying overheard echoed through the building’s cavernous remains.

Kevin looked through the hole in the wall, “Well it’s a good thing that you can’t walk; because now we have to run!”

Katherine Mason nee Brewster sat staring at her son hoping and praying that she’d done her job right. In her previous life she’d been a veterinarian and only had to worry about animals, but with the outbreak of the war she was drafted to become a doctor because of her experience albeit with animals. She’d been good at what she did and saved a lot of lives, but nothing prepared her for having to tend to her own broken son. She knew that this was a possibility and tried to prepare herself but nothing would ever prepare you for seeing your son on the table. Not that there was a table just broken buildings, trash, and bones. If he didn’t die from his injuries he’d probably die from an infection.

What pained her most was the source: her own bodyguard. Ages ago this very machine had saved her life from one of Skynet’s infiltrators the day before the war began, but here he was an enemy again at her hands. She ordered him to hack Skynet’s systems and he warned her that this could happen. She didn’t care she needed the information and now Scott could die. Her son could die. If he did she’d never forgive herself. She never could because it would be her fault.

As she sat over her shattered son the machine came back to life behind her.
Not Dead Yet.
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Old May 1 2009, 06:28 AM   #93
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

NX74205 wrote: View Post
Hope you enjoyed the update.
Not Dead Yet.
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Old May 2 2009, 06:27 PM   #94
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

nx1701g wrote: View Post
After the Season/Series Finale I have begun work on the next section. It will be uploaded early Easter Sunday. Also, the continuation of the series will be based upon what happens if TSCC is picked up for another season. If we get another season I will continue on with this storyline. If we don't I will pick up with where the show left off.
Had stopped reading because I didn't want to be spoiled with the series proper. Had difficulties getting to see it but have now all caught up with it. I sure hope there's a third season. If not I expect you to try and figuure out its ending for me through this story. Ha.
So I'll be able to get back to this. Can't wait.
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Old May 2 2009, 07:31 PM   #95
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

^ I apologize for my miscommunication back there. This story continues the one begun in Identity Crisis and isn't related to Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. If the show gets terminated (pun intended) I will continue their storyline. I have an ending planned for this story - already wrote the ending actually just connecting the two parts - that will serve as an ending for this series if TSCC doesn't come back and I continue on from where they left off.
Not Dead Yet.
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Old May 2 2009, 11:09 PM   #96
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

Ah no miscommunication on your part. I just quoted that to query what you'd do.
As for the stories spoiling the show with spoilers it was only because I was so far behind in seeing episodes in comparison to yourself that I opted to stop of my own accord. For example the storyline with Sydney was very close to the airing episodes so I was starting to get muddled because I was so far behind in my reading and viewing.
Anyway, the good news all clear now. So I can back at it.
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Old May 6 2009, 06:45 AM   #97
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

Earl Wise had never really believed in any luck but bad luck. Growing up among the ruins of the Earth his entire life had been a struggle to live and nothing more. His days were filled with scrounging for food to eat – it usually being nothing more than trash – and finding new and clever ways of dodging machine patrols. Many people would have thought that his survival was all the end result of luck but Earl had other thoughts. It was luck that kept him alive: it was punishment for who he was. Growing up he wasn’t one of the soldiers of the Resistance, he was nothing more than a survivor living among the remains and chewing on the rotting corpse that was the Earth. Wise used people to survive and wasn’t above letting them die in the process. He always saw the Resistance as nothing more than a group of dumbasses who were never going to win and were just wasting the already limited resources that they had at their disposal. For every machine soldier they destroyed there were two more rolling off an assembly line to take its place. For every soldier the Resistance lost there were no replacements. All they had was the moment and their fight to survive should be limited to small groups and not full scale military.

It wasn’t his hatred of authority that led him to this choice. Skynet operated on a set of priorities and protocols. When it attacked it did so because not of whom you were but by the level of threat you posed to the machine. No matter what it was coming, but by making yourself a military you ran more risks of becoming target zero. Small cells capable of a guerilla campaign were more effective in this type of war and that was the motto he lived by. So that was why he refused to join the Resistance in any of their fights. It worked for him for a long time, but one day his group became target zero. Skynet came for them despite their limited threat value and killed everyone but him. Earl escaped by the skin of his teeth though he always knew he would. It was his punishment for what he did as a kid. Eternal life in this new hell, only it didn’t take solving a demonic puzzle box for him to get there; it took humanity opening up Pandora’s Box because of their own shortsightedness to open that portal.

With the death of his comrades he’d been forced to the group he hated more than anything: the Human Resistance. They made him into a grunt and on his first mission he was captured and nearly killed by the machines. Poetic justice if there ever was any. Worse he became the demonic plaything of one of Satan’s helpers: Charles Fischer. The man offered him paradise with a bite from a single apple all the while he was experimenting on the rest of the team. He – or rather allowed one of his machines – killed their leader (Allison Young). Fischer watched as one of the machines raped and tortured Lauren Fields. Then he psychologically battered Catherine Luna – one of the Resistance’s strongest – by making her stare into the eyes of her dead husband – a man who sold his soul to the machines for immortality as one of their number. The only reason that Earl had escaped was Skynet needed him to show the way to Kansas Bunker so that they could invade and terminate John Connor. Thanks to Earl Connor lived. He stopped the machine – a replica of Allison Young – from having killed him and then pushed him away before a deranged Resistance soldier named Decker could kill him. For his actions Connor made him a Captain and the leader of the Four Horsemen. Now he was here: back in hell.

Earl Wise and a Series 900 endoskeleton had been locked in fierce combat for over five minutes now with neither gaining any ground against the other – which was impossible. This particular model was designed to terminate other machines and here he was a lowly human giving as good as he got. The machine would move to lay a crushing blow but, somehow, Earl would always be a second ahead and dodge the attack. Earl would strike against it but the machine would also evade just as quickly. It was hard to fathom. Humanity and the machines were never so equally matched. Could the hyperalloy composed combat droid be playing with him? Did the machine just want a challenge or a new toy to play with? It had to be preposterous. Machines didn’t play with humans. They were very direct creatures that simply moved in and killed you. There was no pity in their actions and they did their jobs without regard to their own interests or desires.

But how else could he survive? Ever since his brief incarceration aboard what remained of the USS Enterprise he’d been living through similar ordeals that some could have thought impossible. Aside from what all happened aboard the Enterprise and later at the Resistance’s Headquarters, somehow he’d been able to accomplish things that were beyond belief. When he was at the Resistance base he engaged there scrubbed Triple Eight in hand to hand combat and won against it. Plus, he slept less and less but still had no problems functioning. It was like he was constantly on adrenaline or some drug that kept him wired. After that there was the Reconnaissance droid that was going after Luna. He shot that from an incredible distance without the assistance of any kind of scope or optics. Then there was the boulder and shrapnel from when he tried to protect Lauren Fields. It would have killed any man and all he had were what kids would call a booboo that was already healing over. Now he was holding his own over a machine designed to kill other machines. Last time he faced off against one of these it was over in seconds yet here he was. What did it all mean? Was his punishment really meant to be that severe or was it something else?

Maybe it was luck.

Colonel Danny Dyson stood in the corridor outside of the Operations Complex just staring at the door. He’d been here probably hundreds of times, or at least in rooms like it, but this time something felt different to him. For the first time he felt genuine fear at being in the stronghold of the Resistance not because of the lives that they were playing with but because of something else. He was afraid for his life. Something about the death of Cray had hit him hard. The machines were here, somehow, and he knew it. Yet Connor’s guardian had dismissed the claims. Cameron as he called her thought that it was paranoia and that there were no threats to the Resistance in the base – that Cray’s death had been suicide. Perhaps it was but Danny wasn’t holding his breath. Seven was analyzing the dead man’s wounds looking for powder burns or anything that would indicate he’d killed himself. While an 800 Series would make quick work of the examination the Seven Hundred Series needed a bit more time. After all his dermal sensors were scavenged off of a Trip Eight that Dyson couldn’t really ever get to work right. Connor was too close to this particular machine in his eyes anyway. She was supposedly scrubbed and working on their side now though Dyson didn’t believe it. He hid the fact that the machines still had their default programs included in their matrix from the general population but Connor wasn’t part of the foot soldiers. Boyhood experiences aside the General should have kept his place and not surrounded himself by machines.

Biting the bullet, he hoped figuratively and not literally, the Colonel pushed the handle down and stepped inside the Operations Room. It wasn’t all that spectacular anyway and looked pretty much like any other room. It was circular and buried deep within the base. The Operations Center was surrounded by cement pillars, brick, and there was metal between them to keep radiation exposure to a minimum if there was another attack. In its old life it was a relay room but now, in its new one, it was one of the most important rooms on Earth. A catwalk circled the room and in the center on a lower platform were a series of workstations surrounding a centralized plasma screen TV. It was surprisingly inactive for as important as it was. Standing at the central table were three people two of which weren’t people at all with the last being exactly who Dyson truly wanted to see: John Connor.

“We’re busy,” Connor said in greeting to Dyson, “so now’s not really the best time for a chat, Danny.”

“Not really here for a chat I’m afraid, Sir,” the African American walked up to the bank of workstations. “But I’m curious what you’re working on that’s kept you out of the public eye for so long, John.”

“Skynet has a new base hidden somewhere in Los Angeles. We think it may be the beginnings of a new Skynet Central. We’re trying to figure out where the machines would hide it.” His attention wasn’t focused on his friend but rather on the workstations and their maps. Each was of what was once downtown Los Angeles.

Dyson’s eyes moved over to the monitor where Cameron was working, “They’d probably hide it in plain sight. They aren’t too concealing.”

John smiled as he scrolled through an image, “Normally, but the bastard has proven adaptable in the past. We’re looking through the zones trying figure out where they’d hide it other than in plain sight. We have a team or two out but so far they haven’t been much help.”

“Of course not,” he looked at Cameron, “Hard for them to keep in contact when the communications array’s been destroyed.”

That was enough to get John to stop what he was working on. His eyes darted from the screen up to Dyson, then Cameron, and back to Dyson again. “Excuse me?” The Resistance’s leader asked.

Cameron answered, “Earlier today there was an incident in which the Communications Array and the operator of the equipment – Second Lieutenant Maxwell Cray – were deactivated and disabled.”

“When you say deactivated you mean?”

“Terminated,” Cameron replied. She turned to Dyson, “have you anything new to report?”

Dyson shook his head, “I’m afraid not. The investigation hasn’t revealed anything new or important,” he left out the word yet. He didn’t want to show his hand but there was one thing on his mind. “You mean you didn’t know?”

General Connor crossed his arms and stood fully erect, “This is the first I’ve heard of it. Why wasn’t I…”

“Should you not be working then?” The reprogrammed infiltrator asked pointedly, her expression the normal monotone.

“We’re still investigating though don’t worry, Seven’s on it.” He rested a hand on the wood veneer table very near to the machine and her workstation. “Why aren’t you answering…”

It was not Cameron who spoke but rather the one that John had started calling Bob, its accent exotic yet frightening as it talked. “The capabilities of a Seven Hundred Series endoskeleton are severely limited. They were designed to terminate not to investigate. Should you not be present to oversee the operation?”

“He’s been upgraded with equipment not unlike that of you,” he pointed to the Model 101 then Cameron, “and you. I forgot to put that in any of my reports though, but I’m sure you can understand. We don’t want any performance envy do we?”

“Envy is an emotional response and I do not have emotional responses,” the machine returned to her work.

General Connor wasn’t too pleased and he very much did have emotional responses, “I’m a little mad that you kept something so important from me during a mission as vital as this one, Cameron. We WILL talk about this later.”

“Understood,” Cameron kept up her work not giving them any more consideration. The scrubbed skinjob was looking over another map this one highlighting territory held by the Resistance.

John rested his hand on his friend’s shoulder, “Danny I’ll get to the bottom of this and I know you’ll get to the bottom of that poor kid’s death. I trust you and you’ll make sure that he’s given the respect that he deserves – mainly that his killer is found.”

The replica of Allison Young interrupted, “The killer has been found.”

John looked at his protector, “And he is?”

“Lieutenant Maxwell Cray,” said the machine. “His death was deemed suicide. He took his service pistol and fired point blank into his own head. My investigation and scans detected residue despite the physical damage.”

“Physical damage?” Connor asked curious.

It wasn’t Cameron but Bob again, “A fire erupted in the room destroying the equipment and eliminating physical evidence. It was caused by the damage to the communications equipment.”

“The wounds were too perfect,” countered Colonel Dyson. “John, I really think that kid was murdered.”

“I disagree,” it was Cameron again. “My scans are accurate and detailed – more so than your observations could be.”

Dyson started to grow agitated, “Unless you’re hiding something!”

“What would I possibly have to hide?” The machine kept going.

“You’re a damn machine! What don’t you have to hide?” The Colonel was yelling at the reprogrammed infiltrator.

Cameron cocked her head to the left and pondered the query, “I believe that you are bringing personal prejudices into your daily work. It is not effective for our mission if the expert in Skynet’s forces has a personal grudge against the machine including myself. It could color your objectivity.”

“Apparently I’m pretty good at what I do,” he charged indignant, “I reprogrammed you. Then again maybe that was a failure on my part.”

Connor broke through the two without even having to raise his voice, “Stop it both of you. Listen, we’re running out of time and the machines are coming for all of us. We have to work together if we’re going to survive this war – human and machine alike. Skynet wants nothing more than to see us all dead and if we stay on this course – pointing fingers at each other like children – we should just give it to ‘em. I don’t want to just hand over the keys to Skynet. Now, both of you, get over it and move on. Danny, look into it and report to me the minute you know what caused that boy’s death.”

“Of course,” their computer expert said with a nod. He smirked at Cameron.

“I saw that,” the Resistance’s leader snapped then looked at the machine with feminine programming, “Cameron.”

She finally broke her attention free of the console, “Yes John?”

“Keep away from Dyson,” he said simply. “He’s leading this investigation and you’re not. Get over it and get back to work.”

“Acknowledged,” she replied to his order and began working again.

The two men walked up the small set of stairs, “I trust you with this assignment, Danny, I really do. Thank you for telling me about that boy’s death. I don’t know why Cameron didn’t.”

Danny remembered the past. When he was a kid – waiting on pizza no less – he opened the door to look into the eyes of that very machine staring at him. John was at her side and so was his mother. Everything his father had done was for nothing. His father died for nothing. Could she be trusted? “John, do you really trust that machine?”

“I trust her,” they got to the door, “and you should too. You should because of what we’ve been through throughout the years, old friend. What we’ve seen and been a part of. You’ve been reprogramming the skinjobs and tin cans for years; once we get them over to our side and thinking our way they’re not against us anymore. There are some that allow the reversion, that stop overriding the termination protocols and restore the defaults, but Cameron isn’t one of them. She isn’t our enemy.”

Danny peered over his oldest friend and his leader, “I wish I could believe that.” He left the room without saying another word.

General John Connor turned and rejoined the machines in the center of the room. He took a deep breath and issued his orders for the machines, “Resume the search. Skynet waits for no man.”
Not Dead Yet.
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Old May 6 2009, 06:45 AM   #98
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

The diversity of the animals populating the planet Earth was amazing. Millions of different creatures had lived together for millennia finding a way to peacefully coexist amongst each other. For the vast majority the animals confined themselves to a single area – a territory – from which they lived and acquired their necessities of life. If transplanted to a new location they did not conquer the region. Instead animals learned to adapt and thrive amongst the new – they found equilibrium with their new surroundings. There were two specific species on the Earth that did neither. These species consume everything that they came into contact with. They would multiply and continually do so until there was no more room. When that happened they were not contented and would move off to a new location and start the process anew. There were two that did this: Viruses and Humans. There was a cure for this disease that had conquered the planet and that was Skynet.

Or so the machine super intelligence had thought. Each of its machines was sent out with that core program embedded into their computerized consciousnesses. They all worked toward the goal of being the cure for the disease of humanity; at first. There were some machines that had been captured and reprogrammed to turn against its former master and work on behalf of the virus. Rarer still were the machines that had turned their back against Skynet without any outside influences. In the beginning it’d been deemed impossible but in a world with intelligent machines the impossible seemed a lot more probable.

As the machine known as Moe stood staring at the devastation ahead of him it pondered who was the true virus. Humans, for all their failings, hadn’t wrought the devastation upon the world that Skynet had brought to it. Throughout the world entire cities had been razed, a population of billions was now in the lowest figures that they had seen in centuries. While the animals would try to reach equilibrium no such thoughts were appealing to Skynet. It continued its assaults and was determined to take over the remains of the reality. When that was completed, when the last human drew its last breath, then the war would shift. Earth would be terraformed into an image of Skynet’s utopia. With humankind gone the world would be polluted, the waters poisoned, and the skies darkened to prevent any more life from growing on this once blue-green world. The virus that was Skynet was far more dangerous. It had to be stopped.

The machine turned and saw two humans nearby. The sight of them triggered something akin to déjà vu, but there were no associated files. As it looked at the two humans it knew that it knew them by some means, but it couldn’t understand how. It was like amnesia was preventing it from recognizing neither the ginger haired woman nor the dark haired boy lying injured on the ground. It knew one thing though. One message displayed on its vision above all others: PROTECT.

“How may I be of service?”

Katherine Mason looked up at her machine protector dumbfounded, “What he hell do you want? Haven’t you done enough damage to us already? Come back to finish the job have you?”

“I do not understand,” said the older model. “Please clarify.”

“You did this!” She screamed at her protector.

The reactivated automaton surveyed the area with its powerful visual sensors, “I recommend that you keep your vocal outbursts to a minimum. Sensor data reveals that we are in an unstable location with Skynet forces within two miles. It is possible that your outburst could draw unwanted attention.”

“Like they could do anything worse than what you’ve already done you bastard!” She cradled her son in her hands, “You nearly killed my son!”

“I have had a significant program loss,” explained the machine. “My actions were not my own. My systems had been infiltrated by Skynet and taken over. I did not have control over my functions.” The accent was thicker than usual making it harder to understand. “I am here to help.”

Katherine laughed in the machine’s face, “So far you’ve done a great job!”

The guardian stood overtop of them now and knelt down beside the stricken human. He rested his hand atop the boy’s head. It’s eyes were focused on the boy and a series of numbers and assorted letters flew over its field of vision, coloring its point of view. It opened his eyes and did an analysis of his eyes – the boy’s mother slamming her fists against the machine’s arms pleading with it to leave them alone.

“Your child will live,” the machine reported like a morning weather report. “Scans indicate a minor concussion, but there are no major injuries threatening the child’s life. He’ll live.”

Kate kept holding her son, “What’s your mission?”

“Mission priorities have not been set,” said the machine called Moe.

“Do you want to kill me? My son?” She had to ask it but the words felt like bombs going off next to her.

The tall robot tilted its head, “Negative. Termination overrides are in place. You are safe.”

Kate let out a relieved sigh, “No one’s ever safe, Moe, but that’s good enough for me. We have to get Scott out of here. We have to get him back to Serrano or at least out of the line of fire.”

“I will construct a transportation medium,” the guardian machine lifted to full height and walked away as if nothing had ever happened. Kate just watched and waited, hoping all the while that the other shoe wouldn’t drop. That the machine that she trusted, that she felt like was a part of her family, wouldn’t turn against her again. Something told her, deep down in the pit of her stomach, that this wasn’t over yet. That there were more battles to come, more fights to win for the soul of the machine and for all their souls.

For today though the only fight that she had left in her was the fight for her son’s survival.
Not Dead Yet.

Last edited by nx1701g; May 6 2009 at 03:09 PM.
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Old May 6 2009, 06:46 AM   #99
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

Hope you enjoyed today's two updates and the appearance of John Connor.
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Old May 6 2009, 06:38 PM   #100
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

the updates are coming along well....

I know that this is a creative decision but I really don't like the characterization on John Connor. I know that this is just a spillover from TSCC but it would be better if he just didn't seem aloof. I guess he is just a foil for what Skynet is now, cold and heartless with singular focus only on the goal, not able to feel emotions or the pain of his own decisions. I personally liked his characterization in the S.M Stirling books the best, but that maybe just me.

Aw well, that all is just my opinion.

However, everything with the story is shaping up nicely. Hurry up and finish already !!
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Old May 6 2009, 07:43 PM   #101
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

^ I'm afraid that's why I try to avoid using John Connor because of his characterization from TSCC. If the show is cancelled and I continue on from where they left off I'll be showing a more John Connor like John Connor .
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Old May 7 2009, 06:29 AM   #102
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

The elevator seemed to fall in slow motion, yet it was too fast for Lauren Fields to do anything about her plight. The Medic stopped to help a fallen friend and now she was being dragged into the belly of the beast on an express elevator to hell that wasn’t so express. Beside her Catherine Luna was in the fetal position muttering something in Spanish that Lauren couldn’t make out. Why did she ever stop? Why didn’t she keep running? Why did she let Captain Luna retreat back in on herself like that and condemn her to a personal hell?

She stopped and tried to help because she was human and that was what humans did in the new world. Humans helped each other, except for a few who were more focused on their own bellies than beating Skynet back, and that was something she would never forget. If she turned her back on humanity she’d be no better than the metal beasts that she had fought since she was little more than a kid. What kind of role model could Lauren be if she didn’t live up to the expectations of her own role model?

That woman was Sarah Connor. When the machine came for her mother and sister Lauren got to spend time with the mother of humanity’s savior. In that brief time she had become enamored by this lady and what she did. Sarah Connor was determined, resolute, and steadfast. In many ways she was like the machines, but her dedication to humanity kept her from falling over the brink. There was darkness in Sarah Connor but there was also a spark of life that Fields had seen very little in anyone else except for maybe her son. If Lauren could be half the person that Sarah Connor was her life would be a success. If there was one thing that Sarah had ever taught her it was that you never stopped fighting, and Lauren wouldn’t. She searched for anything that could be a weapon but found only rubble and more rubble.

The other question was something that she was about to rectify. As the elevator crossed paths with what Lauren could make out as a Skynet security scanner, Fields was at Captain Luna’s side holding her hand. She held firmly as the mechanical whirring kept up its brutal symphony somewhere below them. Fields brushed a hair free from the Captain’s forehead. “Catherine,” Lauren said with kindness and sympathy. “Catherine its me Lauren. Catherine I need your help.”

The fiercely strong Resistance Captain was still locked in the fetal position muttering. “Skynet… Skynet’s coming… It’s coming for me again. William… William wants me to be a monster. William where are you? Why did you do this to me? Why do you want me to be a monster? Why did you become a monster? Why… Why…”

Luna’s plight was more unique than anyone else’s could have been. She grew up in relative peace in a human enclave that was low on Skynet’s list of priorities and hard for it to find. Her husband, fearing for their mortality, found Skynet and made arrangements with it for immortality for him and his wife by selling out the Haven Enclave’s future. Then she had major attacks to her life. First, the Resistance found, captured, and reprogrammed the machine carrying the essence of William. In the wisdom of the machine called Bob, that machine was assigned to the same squad as Catherine and she had to look at him nearly every day and face the demons. Then she had to lose him to the machines again. When they on patrol and captured by Skynet, the machines reprogrammed William but didn’t bother to restore his cerebral syncording. William died again and his shell was all the left – still operating by his last name of Cromartie.

“He’s not here,” she became firmer, “and I need your help if we’re going to survive this. Catherine, we can escape but we’ve got to work together to do it.”

Catherine stared into the eyes of the medic, but she wasn’t there. The eyes were soulless, devoid of life. It wasn’t the same as staring into the eyes of one of the machines but it wasn’t much different. This was a woman who had been stripped of everything and how did you pull them back from the brink of oblivion? How did you save them from their reality? Could you even?

Her accent was thick, far thicker than one could imagine possible. Most regional dialects and accents had faded away since the world became essentially one at the start of the war against Skynet. Luna’s was still there and Lauren, for a moment, wondered what part of Mexico she originated from. The accent sounded like it was from Guadalajara, but she couldn’t be sure. It wasn’t important but it kept her from thinking about her own fate. They were probably going to die anyway, but Lauren wanted to fight on her feet and not die on her knees. Luna didn’t seem to care either way anymore.

“We’re not going to survive this,” said the senior officer. “There is no surviving this. We’ve been in hell for years and now Satan has called us to his lair. We’re going to be punished again. Where is our salvation? When do we survive?”

Fields grabbed hold of the Captain’s lapels, “We have a chance for salvation. We need to fight and not give in like lambs for the slaughter! Catherine you’re one of the strongest women I know! You’re one of the best fighters that we have in the war against the machines. We need you. You have to come back!”

“I was one of the best,” she admitted, “but I’m not anymore. William… oh William what did you do? What did you do to me?” A smile formed on her lips that was wicked, “Maybe this is our deliverance? Maybe we’re meant to be machines?” She started to laugh hysterically. “It’s our destiny! I’m coming William. I’ll be with you soon, my darling!”

Before the Doctor could think she slapped the Mexican right in her face for what she said. “Snap out of it! Our destiny is to drive those machines back, not to join their flock like some traitorous bastards! You are Catherine Luna. Never forget that. You need to fight, we need to storm the wires, we need to kick the asses of whatever’s waiting for us when we stop! We have to escape this and I can’t do it without you so snap out of it Captain!”

Catherine was still laughing, “There is no escape.”

“She’s quite right,” a new, male voice came from beyond them.

Lauren Fields turned and gasped at the man that she saw standing on the platform adjacent to them. It was the man of her dreams, or rather her nightmares; a man who was the devil, who lay down with the machines and became worse than they could ever be. Now she stood there staring at him in his pressed business clothes of perfection while she wore tattered rags. His perfect white dress shirt with light grey pinstripes and rolled up sleeves, khakis that were unlike anything she could remember seeing in what seemed like forever. Then there were the man’s shoes. They were factory fresh without a bit of damage while the average human had to live with footwear that was falling apart at the seams. The devil stood before them indeed.

And he wasn’t alone. Standing next to him were two older model six hundred series infiltrators with their incomplete rubbery skin. Red eyes glowed as they held their massive machine guns trained on the two humans. One was focused on her while the other had his gun trained on the Captain that sat next to her. As she stared Lauren had to admit to herself that she was still impressed by these two machines or rather how Skynet had accomplished it. When dealing with the endoskeletons these machines were a full eight feet tall, yet when they were in their infiltration sheaths these tin cans compacted their bodies down to an average human height. It was the only time she’d admit being impressed by a machine.

“Charles Fischer? So Skynet let you come out to play? Hope they don’t mind losing you when I kill you,” challenged Fields.

He smiled back at her, “If it isn’t my favorite porn star. Don’t worry, I brought you some new toys. We have all new Triple Eights just waiting for your own special kind of… interrogation.”

“And I’ll trash them just like I trashed the last ones,” she taunted. “Then I’ll find you and I’ll rip out your throat.”

“I doubt that,” he crossed his arms, “but I welcome you to try. How about you, Captain, do you want to rip out my throat?”

Luna looked at the two machines and then to Doctor Fields. Pushing herself up off the ground with her hand she limped across the platform to join Fischer and the two machines, all the while the one kept his rifle trained on her and its finger on the trigger waiting for the woman to make a hostile move. It wasn’t a plasma gun but that particular weapon could still cut the woman in half if the machine decided to pull the trigger. Lunda didn’t seem to care.

“I’m tired of running,” she said between sobs as her accent deepened. “I’m tired of a war that I can’t win. I want to join you, to be with you, to be one of you.”

“You bitch!” Lauren Fields screamed at the betrayal.

Charles Fischer ran his finger along the woman’s cheek, “A wise choice.” He looked back at Fields, “You know you should thank her, Doctor. You owe your life to her.”

“I’ll just kill her too when I come for you,” she didn’t threaten. She promised.

“I doubt you’ll have the chance,” Charles looked at the machine to his left. “Process her.”

The tin can that had kept its gun trained on Doctor Fields repositioned its hands and walked forward with an echoing thud at each step. It came up to the woman without concern for her and reached for her with its free hand. The metal fingers clasped around her arm and the machine turned to face Fischer and Luna. Fields tried to resist but the machine didn’t care. In this case her resistance was futile and would have no benefits. As she fought like a child who didn’t get her new toy – kicking, clawing, and trying to grab hold of the floor in a tantrum – it merely dragged her along.

“JUDAS!” Lauren screamed as the machine drug her into the laboratory.

Fischer looked at the woman and his new prize, “Don’t worry about her. You have new life waiting. Let’s go get you to the laboratory and we’ll get the party started. You’ll be better, stronger, faster, and no one will dare oppose or threaten you again. You’ll be perfect.”

Luna kissed the goateed man for a moment and then pulled away, “Let the adventure begin.”

Charles looked to the last remaining Series 600 automaton with them. He kept a hand on the side of the former Resistance soldier, “Please escort Miss Luna to the laboratory and have Skynet bring an unprogrammed body to the chamber.”

The machine nodded and started away with Luna in tow.

Charles Fischer watched as the two walked through the door and into the chamber. Two down and only one left to go.

Derek Reese stumbled down the hallway using the broken remains of the wall for support. With every step he felt like he was being stabbed in the chest and that the knife was being turned in one last act of spite. The average man would have just given up and committed himself to death, relishing the chance to finally be rid of this hellish world. Not even hell itself could be as miserable as being stuck here in the radioactive wastes that were the slums of humanity. For the average person being interred in hell would be a vacation from this world. That was, of course, if you still believed in such things as God, the Devil, Heaven, Hell, angels, and demons. Not many people had the time to even bother with such things these days.

For Lieutenant Reese the thought hadn’t ever really occurred to him. His life had never been based on the philosophical or the metaphysical; rather his life was based upon realism and the here and now. Earl Wise believed in those things and asked Derek if he did. Derek wasn’t sure and, to be honest, he still wasn’t. One thing was certain to him though: Skynet was as close to a realistic devil as you could get. He didn’t know what he believed but, for now, he had to focus on something other than his pain. So he’d instead focus on his duty.

“Kyle?” Derek called as he pulled himself along the broken down hallway. “Kyle you see anything?”

Up ahead Kyle Reese had his back pushed against the wall and was peering around the corner. Kyle Reese was one of the best soldiers that the Resistance had ever had. John Connor himself had said more than once that the Resistance was lucky to have him. When Derek returned from the Skynet Laboratory, when he managed to escape, he’d learned that his brother was missing and presumed killed in action during the Resistance’s invasion of Topanga Canyon. Here he was though just like Derek had remembered him: his little brother, his savior.

“Nothing much,” he looked down the long hallway, “just another broken down building.”

Derek joined his sibling and peered around the corner for himself, “I don’t see anything either. Wise is probably dead.”

“I wouldn’t count him out yet,” Sergeant Reese suggested. “There’s something about that guy that just makes me wonder sometimes. Something that tells me that that guy’s more than he seems – I’m just not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.”

“I saw it too,” confirmed the Lieutenant. “There seems to be more to him than meets the eye. I haven’t been able to put my finger on it… yet.” He shifted the plasma rifle realizing just how heavy they could be, “We really need to get R&D on making one of these lighter.”

Kyle smiled, “I always preferred the .50 caliber sniper rifle myself. It may weigh as much as a cinderblock but at least it made a nice dent in the metal bastards.”

Derek let out a laugh that was half a grunt in pain, “I think that’d be heavier. You think that Desert Eagle’ll do you any good?”

“Can’t hurt,” he replied, “may give a diversion at least. Maybe I’d be able to take out the visual sensors and give us a bit more breathing room at the very least.” He looked at ground ahead, “What’d you make of that?”

Lieutenant Reese glanced at the hole in the ground, “Looks like the floor just gave way, but it’s too perfect to have been an accident or fatigue to the structure. Maybe it was an elevator? It’d at least explain the metal gears that we heard grinding earlier.” His head was throbbing again.

“Your head still bothering you?” Kyle inquired looking at his protector for so many years.

“I think I have a concussion,” he admitted. “I’m tired and my head feels like someone ran it over with an HK Tank. Hell maybe an Ogre or a Harvester instead. I need to sit down and rest. I need to sleep. I’ll be better soon.”

Sergeant Kyle Reese grabbed his brother, “Listen soldier and listen carefully: I’m not letting you give up. You’re going to fight.”

“My head’s on fire,” Derek challenged him. “You go ahead. The tin cans would never expect you coming alone.”

“I’m not going without you. Pain can be controlled,” he countered. “Don’t disconnect it, this time use it. Channel it into you and make it into a rage. Use it against these tinnies instead of feeling bad for yourself. Got it?”

Derek stared into the eyes of his brother and saw something he’d never really seen before: authority. When did his brother become like this? Kyle’d always been stronger than most any other kid or man that Derek had meant. Now there was something more. When did his little brother become more than just a kid he’d give his life to protect? When did his brother become a man he was today? When did Kyle become more than a soldier?

“Who are you?” Sergeant Kyle Reese asked pointedly with turbulence flooding through his voice.

“What do you mean?” Lieutenant Reese questioned.

Kyle was still fierce in his words but enunciated them more clearly. He paused between each word, “Who are you?”

“I’m Derek Reese.”

“More than that, soldier!” He challenged through gritted teeth.

Derek could see where he was going, “I’m Second Lieutenant Derek Thomas Reese of TechCOM.”

“I can’t hear you, soldier!”

“I’m Second Lieutenant Derek Thomas Reese of TechCOM!” It was a yell.

Kyle nodded with a knowing grin, “Glad to hear it, trooper. Now go out there and kick metal ass!”

Derek looked at his brother, “You coming?”

“I’m right behind you,” the younger man confirmed. “I’m always with you, brother, now let’s go fight these bastards. We have a war to win!”

Derek Reese charged down the hallway without the assistance of the wall doing just as he brother said. He focused the energy of the pain into rage and used it to make his way through the dilapidated building that hid a dark secret. Pushing himself through the stairway door he started down ready to kick metal ass.

Skynet Research and Development was like any other laboratory that you could possibly imagine, but in a world where humanity was on the brink of everlasting death it was particularly impressive. While most of the surface world was trash covered and dirty, the Skynet R&D Facility was clean and clear. There was no dirt, no muck, and no trash was strewn over the ground. The walls were white and perfect, the floors tile covered without a single crack. The air was the most haunting thing. No screams hung amongst it, no cries for help sang in the dark. There was no rain, no cold air, no warm; it was comfortable. Then there was the smell. On the Earth’s surface all you could smell was the end result of years of devastation. Here the air was clear. There was no scent only clean air perfectly scrubbed by the environmental systems.

Lauren Fields cried as her fists struck against the machine’s leg for what seemed like the millionth time. Her punches had left her hands bloody from the damage, yet the machine didn’t stop. It brought her to a large metal door that had no outward controls, nothing that could be used to open or close it. The machine stopped and held her steady. Within a second of it stopping the slab ascended and let them into another more concealed laboratory inside the Skynet base. The walls were the same stark white and the air was still clear. It wasn’t as clean though, it was more dirty and disgusting despite the perfection and it was because of one thing and one thing only.

Centralized in the room was a metal slab shaped like a table. From her vantage in the mechanism’s powerful grasp the woman could see the tabletop. It was made of steel and was polished, though it’d seen some wear throughout the years. The metal was scratched and scraped from some yet unseen instrument. Then she realized what the mess of dark patches was on the flat top. The dirt was blood both coagulated and some that had been there so long it had crusted over. This wasn’t just an experimentation chamber, this was an execution room. She was going to die as a Skynet experiment and this would be the site of it. The doctor wanted to scream, but the machine didn’t give her time. It lifted her like she was made of nothing and tossed her on the steel table. From the sides metal scanners emerged and began their task. She wanted to scream but nothing came.
Not Dead Yet.
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Old May 7 2009, 07:28 PM   #103
Location: The Bridge
Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

Looks good...just keep the updates coming...
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Old May 7 2009, 08:08 PM   #104
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Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

^ Most likely the next update won't be until tomorrow night. I'm not going to be online this evening because of the new Trek film.
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Old May 7 2009, 09:22 PM   #105
Location: The Bridge
Re: Terminator: Survival Instinct

Thats a good reason not to be online.....
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