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Old April 3 2010, 02:05 PM   #226
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Re: The Terminator Chronicles: Second Chance

Chapter 19 can be expected online on Easter Sunday.
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Old April 4 2010, 06:24 AM   #227
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Re: The Terminator Chronicles: Second Chance

While growing up Savannah Weaver loved the cold more than warmth. Many of her fondest memories featured her and her family going on vacations to the Canadian Rockies and their playing among the snow. Her father, Lachlan, had purchased a beautiful ski chalet for her mother when Savannah was still a child for something called an anniversary. Every so often during the winter they would take father’s private plane and travel from sunny California to the white covered beauty. Many of her best memories from childhood were from those tranquilizing days among the wooden cabin; relaxing without a care in the world.

But there were also the dark memories. During one of their trips Savannah had wandered away while mother and father were dancing on the deck to something called a love song – she couldn’t remember which. She had always thought of that as a perfect moment while watching the two of them move among the specks of falling white snow. It was like something out of a fairy tale: the princess swept off her feet by the dashing knight to their castle to do God knows what. The snow kept falling so quickly that her tracks started to fade away seconds after she had made them. Little more than a baby she didn’t think anything of them other than how neat it was for the snow to clean away the mess that she’d made, restoring its own perfection with ease. Savannah kept walking and walking into the wilderness beyond the boundary that he father told her never to pass before. Ever the explorer, Savannah pushed forward to see what lay beyond.

Then all she could remember was the cold. Having gotten out of sight and her tracks banished by the flurry around her she couldn’t find her way back to her home. She was bundled up in her pink heavy winter parka that mother always gave her for their trip and her own little insulated boots, but they weren’t very supportive when the snow was like this. They provided her some heat, but her nearly fresh skin provided little warmth to her young body. Tears began to stream but all they did was burn among the freeze so much that she had to push herself not to allow any more to form. Shivering, the young lady found a massive pine tree and lay beneath it hoping that someone would come for her. Momentarily she wondered if she would be like Hanzel and Gretel and be found by an evil witch wanting her for dinner or meet with the Big Bad Wolf on his way to Little Red Riding Hood’s house for an evening meal. Maybe she would get lucky and fall asleep among the snow and not think about the cold despite her love for it? Perhaps she’d wake up in an enchanted world or be like Rip Van Winkle and find herself decades in the future among amazing new adventures that she could explore?

Her teeth chattered so loudly that they sounded like when her daddy hammered something in his workshop. Slowly her eyes fell closer and closer together preparing to take her to the land of dreams where maybe this ordeal would come to a close. If she were lucky maybe her drifting to sleep would actually cause her to awake from the nightmare in her warm and comfy bed? She may have loved the cold but even this was a bit too far for her comfort level. Then she heard it. A frantic rustling in the trees made her shoot ramrod straight. She pulled her pink booted feet closer to her body to hide as the branches broke with the approaching shape. It was like a monster out of her nightmares was coming for her (maybe even the wolf). She clenched her eyes and rocked herself gently telling herself that it was only a bad dream.

“Savannah?” She heard the warm accented words of her father. “Savannah darlin?”

“Daddy!” The young girl screamed and ran up to him. She wrapped her small arms around his legs never wanting to leave him again. “Never leave me again!”

Lachlan smiled, “Never again. Now let’s get you back home before you catch your death.”

The coldness faded as she was cradled inside her father’s tight grip. They rejoined her mother right outside the forest who stood there waiting with tears streaming down her delicate face. Immediately after spotting them, Catherine wrapped her own arms around them and the family embraced. The warmth enveloped her driving back the cold like darkness being beaten by the coming of the light. It was one of the warmest moments of her entire life. Even in the times that came after, the darkness that captured the world, it was one fleeting moment of pseudonormalacy that she would never be able to forget. But she would always remember the cold more than the warmth. Her love for the cold was stronger, but the warmth had been more welcoming to her.

Until today at least. The coldness of that day was usurped by the cold of today. It all hit her at once like thousands of tiny knives carving into her body like father’s blade cutting through the Christmas goose. It permeated, drilled, ripped at every inch of her chilling her down to her very core. Though it wasn’t unpleasant from where she stood. At first it felt almost like she was living in hell itself – only a parallel version made entirely of ice. That feeling faded away and was replaced by something different; something that she didn’t quite have the words to explain. That inability stemmed, mainly, because she couldn’t really comprehend it herself. Her body felt cold, but her mind and body was welcoming of it more than opposed. It craved it; found it nourishing. She wanted more of it – to never end.

Ice colored eyes surveyed her surroundings. Last she remembered she had broken through the conference room doors after Mister Ellison gave her orders to find and eliminate Kyle Reese for reasons he wouldn’t share with her. Savannah remembered lifting the MP5 Submachine Gun and slamming the doors open. She fired but her eyes focused on a perfect replica of herself standing between them? No it couldn’t be. The creature with her face changed and absorbed every bullet until it reformed into her mother. She and Kyle tried to kill it, but something changed. It was all just a blur. She couldn’t understand, couldn’t remember the specifics.

Maybe they could tell her what happened? Just outside the clear cylinder where she stood confined she spotted James Ellison – looking far healthier than she remembered him being – and her mother standing with a third form before them talking. James had a toothy grin plastered on his face and her mother was her usual impassive self where no one could read what was going on behind her eyes; except this time she could. There was a quiet concern. The third form, a woman with long brown hair, was harder for her to get a read on. They was a coolness surrounding the girl, that was the best she could discern, almost like she gave off no heat at all. A forth person was seated in a chair unmoving, Savannah couldn’t tell anything about her other than that she had long red hair like she did. Maybe they were all in the same boat?

Savannah lifted a clenched hand up and knocked against the glass of the cylinder three times to get the attention of the group. That was when she realized that she wasn’t entirely alone inside the cylinder. A clear liquid (water maybe) surrounded her. She was amazed that the sound was able to travel; even more so that she was breathing without trouble. The woman in the chair didn’t move, but the other three all shifted their gazes toward the trapped girl. Seeing the third lady fully Savannah knew that she’d met this woman before as the memories came rushing back to her. A quick search of her own mental notes of people reminded her of the time and place – it was right before her world changed forever. That was the quiet lady that Sarah Connor had called Cameron who had taken care of her briefly after that man shot Debbie and they had to flee from their own home. There was something different about her though. She stood a little more informally than Savannah remembered lacking the perfect posture that she’d once had. Actually they all looked different to her now. Maybe it was because of her eyes? Last time she looked at the young girl she’d been a kid herself. Looking upon them then gave her a child’s tunnel vision where everything was black and white and adults were this envied upon goal. Now she saw the world for what it was. Amazingly the lady looked exactly as Savannah remembered without a single change to her appearance in well over fifteen years.

Before the three could do anything about it the grinding of gears from an unseen source grabbed Savannah’s attuned senses. Her head shot upward among the jelly like water, giving her a view of the metal ceiling of the tube where she was trapped and little more. A gentle sighing attracted her ears and she shifted her body tightly trying to find the source. The water began to rush out of the pipe through a drain she hadn’t noticed. Quickly the goo was replaced by a warm breeze that rushed up to her face – blowing her red hair around wildly. The warmth wrapped itself around every inch of her body and, for the first time, Savannah realized that she was naked inside. Out of an archaic form of modesty she crossed her arms to hide her chest from view while the tube settled inside the ceiling compartment.

By this time the group had come to join her. Mister Ellison’s smile was beaming with what appeared to be pride toward Savannah; a pride she hadn’t seen in his eyes since they’d destroyed that first Hunter Killer Tank without external support from the Resistance. Actually, now that she thought of it, he looked prouder now than he was even back then. He’d never been that happy. Something was wrong and she could feel it in her bones. Her brain kept telling her that this was wrong. Mister Ellison wasn’t supposed to be here; this place was too perfect to be a Resistance outpost. It was clinical, sterile, antiseptic - James couldn’t be proud of something like that.

Even her mother was different. Normally impassive and aloof, Catherine Weaver’s face showed emotion for the first time that she could remember, though only slightly. There was the slightest trace of sadness on her mother’s constantly serious face. Even that was changing though. A slight smile started to tug at the corner of the elder Weaver’s lips drawing them gently upward. Not once since the accident involving her father had Savannah ever seen a smile come to her mother and, when they did, it wasn’t a pretty sight either. Whatever she was trying this time was different and almost passed for being human. But there was still concern in her eyes. Normally her eyes were dead, but there was a twinkle just beyond the border of them that showed fear or, perhaps even, nervous jubilation. What was she concerned about?

From beside the third woman, the girl that she’d met ages ago named Cameron, handed her a solid white dress with a gracious nod. Savannah accepted the gift from the stranger and started to put it on while observing the other. Cameron had a quiet power to her that was almost alien in origin; something that wasn’t possibly human. There was strength behind every muscle, more so than should have been possible, quiet energy that made her think this girl could rip a steel door in two. Her beauty was still unblemished even among this world where they lived. She was smiling just like Mister Ellison had been, a kind of smile that reminded the youngest of them all of something that could lure men into her web. Far more powerful than even the most perfect siren song it was perfect in every sense.

Savannah tied the fabric belt around her waist and surveyed the dress that she’d been given – if it could be called that. Part coat, part dress the outfit stopped mid thigh and just covered her private parts from view. The dress had a plunging neckline that traveled down mid-chest and gave her amazing support; though it left little for the imagination of the others. Her back was covered and the collar of the white dress rose even with her ears. The inner lining was a red-orange color that was contrasted by the snow white outer layer. Nothing could be this clean in the ruins of life. Not even a person, yet somehow Savannah was. Years of living among the ruins of yesterday had left scars and cuts on her body. Old bruises and wounds that were impossible to heal were her constant companion. She’d considered them mementos of jobs well done or of friends lost among the darkness. They weren’t there with her anymore. Her skin was as perfect as the day she was born again, porcelain.

“How do you feel Savannah?” It was her mother Catherine that broke the ice.

That was the best question she’d ever heard. In all honesty she’d never felt this great ever before in her entire life. For the first time in a long time she’d felt healthy, like her body was newborn with no cares or strains. She was still cold, but it was still a comfortable chill as far as she was concerned. There were no cuts, no bruises, everything felt right. Plus there was something else. Even with all of her training and exercise she’d never felt this strong before. It wasn’t much different from what she’d just thought about the other girl. Maybe she could rip a steel door into pieces too? There were differences though. Her memory was cloudy, disorganized, but it was mending. Her heartbeat was different too, faster and more powerful than any other time in her life. She didn’t feel hunger either and that was something she couldn’t imagine ever losing. Hunger was another companion that never seemed to leave you – yet it was gone. It was all so very thrilling.

“I feel fine.”
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Old April 4 2010, 06:24 AM   #228
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Re: The Terminator Chronicles: Second Chance

Like a concerned mother Catherine walked closer to her and grabbed her daughter’s hand. Savannah could feel everything going on between the two of them. She felt the chill of her mother’s contact, not that they’d ever had a warm relationship, but there was something more that she’d never noticed before. A gentle energy pushed through the connection between them and Savannah knew everything that was happening without a word being uttered. Then the memory came back to her. This wasn’t her mother. Catherine Weaver, wife of Lachlan and mother of Savannah, was dead and buried in an unmarked grave by this metal monster. This bitch had replaced her. This was one of the machines.

The girl’s hand recoiled in terror and she stepped back, “No. Don’t touch me.”

“Mister Ellison?” Catherine called for her one time security chief in a questioning tone. She needed to say no more words. Ellison already knew what she wanted to know.

“This is a side effect of the memory transfer,” he said coolly. “It’s sort of like amnesia in a lot of respects; only a little less dangerous. The memories need to resurface as the software meshes with what the humans would call a soul.”

Savannah tried to interrupt but was ignored, “Excuse me?”

“It takes some time but we do realize what we are,” said Allison Young. “At first it’s hard to take, but we learn to accept who we are. It should only take a moment or two for the mind to mend itself and make the appropriate connections. Standby.”

“Learn to accept what?”

Catherine stepped forward and into the personal space of her daughter, “Savannah, you have to listen to me and I’ll explain everything to you.”

“You killed my mother and my father! You and your kind destroyed the world! You need to die you metal bitch!” The girl screamed at them. “James why are you helping them? We need to run before they kill us too!”

“Savannah,” he said with quiet authority, “listen to what she has to say.”

Like a father correcting his wayward daughter, Savannah Weaver stopped and looked at the monster wearing her mother’s face. How could he ask her to do that? How could he ever want her to do something so hideous? What was wrong with him? But she had to obey. She was a soldier and he was her commanding officer. His word was the word of law, for now. There was something else though just beyond her senses; another voice that seemed more important to her, warmer than even a summer’s day in Los Angeles. She could almost hear it.

“Speak Bitch.”

“Watch your tone, Young Lady,” chastised the machine. “I’m trying to help you, Savannah, everything that we’ve done here today was to help you. There was an incident when we were escaping from the Resistance Base in Los Angeles. Do you remember that?”

She looked at Ellison then back to the machine, “I shot at you and Kyle Reese inside the conference room…”

“That’s right,” reinforced the changeling. “You did. We tried to escape but there was an accident and you were injured very severely. We brought you here for immediate treatment, but there were some unforeseen complications with your treatment. Your injuries were too much for medical science to handle. The only way to save you was to repair your injuries the only way we knew how to.”

Savannah could taste bile at the back of her throat. She said in tears, “No…”

“It is alright, Savannah,” said a disembodied voice. “I am here with you.”

“They brought you into a very special project,” Allison interjected into the conversation. “There are only two like us in the whole world, but soon there will be more of us than ever imagined. We’re not human, we’re not machine, we’re something better than that. We’re something that can keep humanity going forever, a way for us to reclaim this world from both Skynet and the humans and have perfect lives.” Allison motioned toward the others, “Under this new order there will be no poverty, no disease, no war to contend with. It will utopia.” Allison looked back at the two standing beside them, “You see them? They’re obsolete compared to us. The human even with all of the upgrades that John Henry’s made to him is still little more than a primate and not above swinging from trees. The machine has the ability to think for herself, but she still lacks the soul that makes her alive. We’re a melding of the best of both worlds. We’re the next generation. We are the future of humanity!”

“Humanity? What humanity is that? We’re freaks!” Savannah screamed at the top of her lungs. She had to get away from them, she had to get help. Somebody out there could help her through this; she just needed to escape. But the voice was still there in the back of her head controlling her. She had to get away. As quickly as her legs could propel her she fled from the group but she stopped dead the moment her eyes found it. The metal legs beneath her buckled under the strain and she crashed to her knees at the sight before her. Savannah’s own dead body sat in the chair looking at her with its cold, lifeless eyes locked forward. Before she could help herself the contents of the hybrid’s stomach shot out upon the floor covering it in the same nasty fluid that enveloped her inside the glass jar.

Catherine Weaver would have nothing of it. She went to her daughter and knelt beside her, resting her hand on the girl’s back for support. Savannah was breathing heavy and had tears streaming. She collapsed into her mother’s knees wanting some sort of comfort – even if it came from the machine. The voices needed to stop calling to her. The metamorph glared at the new version of Allison Young. “You call this progress? You call this advancement? Look at her!”

“This process is not meant to be easy,” pointed out Allison as she approached. “She will be better in time. It won’t be long now.”

“We all will,” added Ellison. “The Project is a success. Allison, Savannah, they’re the first of a new generation of God’s children. All of humanity will be taken into the Kingdom thanks to you and your efforts. You completed your mission, ma’am, and now its time to debrief you for all of your hard work on our behalf.”

Catherine’s eyes locked onto Ellison’s, but it was already too late. The incident with Savannah had distracted the T-1001 from what it had been doing enough that she’d dropped her defenses. Before it could react the doppelganger of Allison Young plunged a cylinder into the middle of her back that slid right through the mimetic polyalloy and into the center of her body. Electrical currents lanced out from the metal roll and travelled through every inch of her humanoid form. The millions of nanites, her lifeblood, were each disabled in a nanosecond from the charge. Losing control over herself every subroutine operating her internal and external processes went offline in a blink. Her ability to keep herself stable was gone and the form went from solid to liquid. Like quicksilver her components began to roll around the polished metal floor, shimmering in the light from the alien looking contraption hanging above them. Current kept flowing from the device preventing her from developing a new form. She couldn’t even control the movement of her liquid state like she usually could.

Allison Young walked through the puddle of metal and crouched next to Savannah just as her mother had just done. She applied a firm hand to the back of her sister unit and placed her other hand beneath the girl’s chin. Allison lifted her head toward her own and the next generation machines looked each other dead in their eyes for a long moment. While only seconds in real time, for the two machines it was almost as if they’d been with each other forever. Data flowed freely between the two, connections were formed that were believed to be unbreakable, volumes were spoken without a single word being shared vocally. Both knew what they had to do. A chorus of voices welcomed Savannah into the fray, guiding her to a peace that she never thought possible; drawing her into tranquility unknown for generations.

Above them red lights began to flash again and John Henry’s voice began to echo through their heads. “My children,” he said calmly, “I need your help if I am to survive. Are you ready?”

“I am,” said Allison.

The ball was now in Savannah’s court. She spoke without trepidation, “I am ready. My life for you.”
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Old April 4 2010, 06:25 AM   #229
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Re: The Terminator Chronicles: Second Chance

Justin Perry had always liked a well organized operation. The better the planning the more likely you were to win in whatever fight you came up against. Whether it be against a thousand man army or against a single killer robot, if you had a sound strategy then you didn’t have to worry about what lay ahead. Your strategy would keep you safe from harm. True you had the occasional slipup where, somehow, they enemy would get the better of you and your plans would be ripped to pieces. Sometimes you even died in such conflicts. Though, as said by the Art of War, you died a thousand deaths by fearing one. As long as you kept up the good fight and did whatever you could to protect your people you were a soldier worthy of history.

There was really only one thing that Perry liked better than a well organized operation though and that was a mission where nothing went right and all the best laid plans were laid to waste. Those were the better judges of character and being the man that you wanted to be. As long as you knew yourself you had nothing to fear from your enemies. True it could be a win, a loss, or a draw; nevertheless, as long as you had faith in your training and experience there was no enemy too great. The better form of fighting, however, was when you knew your enemy. It was long said that if you knew the enemy and yourself that you could win hundreds of times over without a single loss. In a world filled with killing machines it was hard to know your enemy, but he would always put up the good fight until the day that he finally died.

As they penetrated deeper into the Topanga Canyon Outpost Justin had a feeling that day would soon be here. Everywhere inside the machine outpost there were traps and gun batteries that were just looking for the perfect opportunity to blow him and his team to pieces. When they came into the warzone they had a full squad and now, thanks to those defenses, they were in strung out shape and down to their last group of men. Little more than a fireteam was with him now and a big hulking machine that felt no fear for what they were facing. Perry, secretly, envied his calm. Outwardly the General was calm, cool, and collected. Internally he was screaming in fear with each passing moment. He knew and trusted himself, but he wasn’t sure what was coming and that was the hardest part – especially with these gun emplacements tearing through his men.

It was a good thing that the metal monster was at point. It turned around a corner and multiple gunshots slammed into the reinforced torso of the machine making the skin sheath look like Swiss cheese. The machine at point lifted its Colt Commando CAR-15 assault rifle (having lost its plasma rifle’s charge during the opening fight) and pulled the trigger. A swarm of armor piercing bullets raced from the barrel and slammed against the emplacement, tearing into its circuit housing. Similar rounds continued to dig into the machine, but it felt neither pain nor concern over the damage that it was taking. It kept going forward until it finally was able to take out the targeting scanners of the hellish weapon. It was a good thing their team had been sent to disable those things.

“Statement: It is safe to continue,” the damaged skinjob informed.

Perry had to mock, “Statement: Thank you. Are we almost there?”

“Statement: Affirmative,” it did not understand that it was being made fun of, or, perhaps, simply didn’t care. “The Security Compound is approximately 24.98 meters to the northeast.”

“You waiting for an invitation?” Earl Wise asked the machine from behind Perry.

The guest on this mission didn’t answer, instead it turned on its booted heel and continued down the corridor toward the Security Compound. There were no more gun emplacements in the area so they should have had smooth sailing to the Security Chamber. As an added protection, incase the machines had updated this facility since the time that this guardian had come online, they had the infiltrator go a little bit ahead to scout. Perry was grateful for that space. While they turned the corner before the security compound they saw the skinjob go flying backward and crash into the metal wall leaving a machine sized, incredibly deep dent where it impacted. Half of its skin was burned away revealing the metal monster beneath the surface. It was charred black and the smell was something that he’d never forget. Burning flesh was something that would stay with you forever.

The General wasn’t stupid. Before his men went charging around the corner he stopped them dead in their tracks and snuck up to the corner of the intersection. Grabbing a small mirror liberated from an out of practice dentist’s office, Justin slid the small tool out so that he could see what waited beyond for them. He never got to see what lay beyond. A loud echo from the firing of a minigun gave him his answer. They were dealing with a T-600 that was guarding the door. Their T-800 was down (too bad because it could’ve ripped its predecessor in half without breaking a sweat) so they’d have to come up with an alternative. Normally he wouldn’t be comfortable taking on even this old styled monster with anything less than his full platoon, but he’d make do with his strung out fireteam. It wasn’t like he had any other choice in this battle.

The Commanding Officer sent a series of complex signals back to his men without saying a single word to anyone. They understood what he wanted perfectly. From the back of the line their grenadier sent forward a small grenade no bigger than a soda can. Quickly the General pulled the pin and slid it forward around the corner. The machine gun fire repeated as the grenade clattered against the metal floor. Fog rose from the weapon making it nearly impossible to see. The best part was that it made it just as difficult for the machine. The 600 Series weren’t given the advanced scanners of the T-800s. They used standard spatial mapping not much different from what humans used. It’d be just as blind as Perry’s men.

The enemy wouldn’t give up easily though. It anticipated that Perry and his people would swarm down the hallway and fire blindly, so the automaton beat them to the punch. It opened fire with its heavy duty gun and dug into the plaster. If any of his men had tried to go that route they’d have a few new holes that they didn’t need. It was a good thing that none of them planned to go that way. The 600 Series had little heat resistance ability and that was their greatest weakness. It was one that Perry and his men were about to exploit. The grenadier sent him a plasma charge no bigger than a baseball. Justin pulled the pin and sent it flying down the hallway. He counted down in his head until he heard the explosion.

Fire erupted from their miniature Vesuvius. With the heat of the plasma charge the metal itself began to warp and melt beneath the machine and enveloped it in its own molten lava. Unable to compensate – the charge also included a small explosive that tore the droid’s legs cleanly off – the 600 was lost to the enemy. The fires raged around it melting the metal down into nothing. Then came the best part. Skynet was smart when it came up with the charges. Designed and intended to help it take enemy installations quickly and effectively, the fires stopped nearly as quickly as they came. It even ate away the fog from their first grenade.

Another signal went back from the General telling his men that he would be going first. Bringing his plasma rifle around to bear, Perry peered around the corner and checked to see where their combatant just to be sure it wasn’t laying in wait having survived the entire ordeal. The devastation was amazing with the once smooth floor, walls, and ceiling now looking like ripples in the ocean. The ceiling even had gunmetal grey protrusions hanging down like tiny icecicles from above. Their metal monster was melted partially into the floor of the hallway with its gun pointed upward at an unnatural angle even for the machines. Half of its body was buried beneath the floor; its eyes were dark from the portion of the skull with the chip port part of the metal below. They’d killed the bastard. He had to be sure though. Dropping the rifle down, the General fired a single pulse right into the remains of the skull assembly. He could hear glass breaking in the optical sensor array as the protective lens shattered. Light sprang from it like candlelight from a Halloween pumpkin. Then it went dark again. The machine was really dead.

Their commandant motioned for the men to come behind and follow. The came around the corner and joined their superior as they slowly marched forward, guns at the ready for anything. The infiltrator – if it could still be called that because of its half missing face – was with them again too; having reset after taking its damage. Justin had to give the machines that one. They didn’t give up no matter what shape they were in (even if their bodies were ripped in half).

Reaching the reflective door, the tall droid nodded his approval when asked if this was security. Normally the door would’ve simply slid open with the approach of the metal tin can to let it rearm, but it didn’t. The enemy knew that this particular machine wasn’t on its side. No matter. The skinjob slammed its palm through a panel next to the door and ripped the metal back toward itself. Inside the guts of the wall showed a complex series of wires and circuits beneath. The machine began pulling at the boards, moving some into other housings and even snapping a few of them into pieces. With a sigh the gears controlling the door came alive – almost bitterly – and pulled the reflective covering away.

One of the squadmembers, Martin maybe, lifted his gun and probed with the flashlight attached to the end. There was nothing inside that was threatening so far as they could tell. The guardian for the security office was probably that 600 they just sent to hell. The humans proceeded in with their guardian keeping pace behind, but Perry stopped it. “That’s far enough, tin can.”

“Command,” it said, “clarify.”

“We can take care of anything that comes up inside. We need you to secure the door so that we can get out if one of your old friends decides to show back up,” it was a partial truth so Perry hoped that it didn’t set off the voice stress analyzed that was building into the tall machine. Despite everything it’d done so far for them, Justin wasn’t a fool. He still didn’t trust this beast any further than he could potentially throw it.

The former infiltrator shifted its head to left and right for a second as it processed what the General had commanded it to do. It stepped back without giving a confirmation, turning on its heel toward the intersection itself and lifting the assault rifle should anyone decide to mess with it.

General Perry was grateful this hadn’t become an issue. For added protection he tapped the control for the door to close and it, surprisingly, conceded to his demands. Knowing they were somewhat protected, Justin joined his men at the central computer terminal in the center of the room. Justin had seen one of these computers before ages ago before the fall of man. The size of a table, these were prototype computer terminals that were supposed to be able to one day replace the desks in offices. Completely touch screen based, their tech was already playing with it like a kid opening up toys on Christmas morning. Surprisingly he was able to hack into it without breaking much of a sweat. Maybe Skynet never anticipated anyone getting this far.

“Got anything yet?” He sounded like an antsy child.

The Tech – he thought he was Cullie’s brother – didn’t answer immediately. He was working quickly typing at the simulated keyboard. “I’m through the firewalls and passed the other little security passes that Skynet installed.” He tilted his head toward the USB port that he’d plugged in on the corner of the desk, “Skynet really knew what it was doing when they gave us that little toy.”

“Yeah they did,” the General said, “considering they already knew the passwords. Now, do you have anything we can use or are you just dicking around because you’ve got a new toy?”

“I was getting to that,” he said. “I’ve already broken into the gun emplacements and security protocols. I’ve reset the guns to target the machines only from now on. The bad part is I can’t distinguish ours from theirs, but I don’t really care about that.”

“Neither do I,” Justin really didn’t. “What else did you find on there?”

The Tech tapped on one of the file folders, “Just the projects going on inside this little bunker of the machines.” The different pictographs came up showing everything that the machines had been working on. “Plus this,” he clicked on one of the icons.

The entire table’s screen changed. Originally housing a windows based interface, it was changed showing detailed schematics a Series 800 Endoskeleton. Several areas were highlighted, “Structural hitpoints that we can use to take down the metaljobs faster than ever before.” He tapped an arrow, “Then there’s this.” The table showed the two proposed upgrades to the Series. The 850 was the first and the computer displayed how it was designed to withstand plasma attacks (unlike the others), then there was the Series 888. According to the readouts it was more powerful than any of the other Series 800 classes and it came in a small frame. They were more adaptable and less predictable, far more capable killing machines.

“God almighty,” said an Asian soldier with them.

“God has nothing to do with them,” Justin chastised. The Resistance General noticed the arrows kept going, “I’m not sure I want to go any further, but we have to.”

Cullie’s brother went through the various screens. The next monster to greet them was a Series 900 Endoskeleton which, according to the description, was designed to terminate other machines. Why would they need it? Then there was the most disgusting thing he’d ever seen before. On the screen was a model representation of the devil itself, the Series 1000 Advanced Infiltration Unit. It completely bypassed the need for skin due to its intelimetal composition and it was able to change its skin without pause. Just looking at it made his skin crawl. He’d seen only one of these in battle, the one they called Weaver, and he wished that he’d never seen another one.

Then he noticed it. In the bottom corner he read: Advanced Model Prototype. If it was a prototype how could it already been on the battlefield in the form of that woman? The prototype itself was a male template too; why would it not revert back to it instead of that woman form? He had to play it cool, he couldn’t show his concern to anyone lest he start a panic among his already strung out men. Justin stared down the tech, “Tell me this thing isn’t already in use.”

He confirmed it, “It’s not. According to this the prototype is in cold storage at this base undergoing final operational prep in the factory. Is this the ultimate weapon that Connor was so worried about?”

“I don’t honestly know,” and he didn’t. “Connor didn’t go into what we were after, but we can’t risk Skynet getting anything more on this than the prototype. I want you to plant a virus into the computers and wipe the hard drives clean of any information related to this bastard. Make Skynet go back to the drawing board on this beast.”

“Already done,” the Tech extracted the USB Port. “I had a feeling you’d want this thing dead and gone.”

Perry unslung his rifle and looked at his men, “You’re not as dumb as you look. Come on, we have to join General Connor. I have a feeling that he’s going to need us.”

The technician was logging out when he noticed something else on the screen, “Wait!” He called out for their attention as he moved through the screens. “Sir, I found something else that you might want to see. When we were leaving the computer brought up the command functions of this base. Energy reserves are being diverted to the lowermost chamber of this facility. They’re pulling a lot of energy – practically draining the batteries.” The screens started to flicker, “It’s driving these computers nuts too. I can probably get in and shut down the dampening field to let Skynet in.”

Perry heard what the young trooper was proposing. Gently he stroked his own chin with his thumb and forefinger while making his decision. This was an important one, but he already knew what he had to do. “Reroute power to the dampening field generators. Let’s keep Skynet out of here as long as we can.”


“Are you sure that…”

“You got a hearing problem Mister?” Justin spat at the boy.

“No Sir it’s just,” he stammered, “we can get Skynet in here to try to…” He realized that he wasn’t going to win this one. “Yes Sir. Sorry I brought it up, Sir.”

Just inside the door Justin Perry watched as his troopers gathered their gear and came to join him. They were just kids and right now they were on the most important op that any human being had ever been on. Making everything worse though was the truth of all of this. They were in uncertain times especially if that mysterious droid was already operational. How could she be working if she were just a prototype? And why was the base rerouting power to that chamber at the bottom of the complex? It was all messing with his head.

Sometimes it was better to just be a grunt.
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Old April 4 2010, 06:25 AM   #230
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Re: The Terminator Chronicles: Second Chance

When she was born Allison Young’s parents had dreams and aspirations about their daughter. Like every other parent before them they imagined her future as one filled with happiness and love. Allison would grow up to be first in her class and she’d get an Ivy League education. She’d either become a doctor or a lawyer and she’d be the best that she could possibly be. Between her hectic but rewarding work schedule, Allison would find time for a family of her own. She and her husband would have two kids – a boy and a girl – and they would like in the suburbs not too far from her mother and father. Allison would grow old with her husband and would die peacefully in her sleep without a single pain.

That was the dream and it was far from the reality. Allison Young would never get married and she would never have children of her own. Instead of getting an education from an Ivy League school, the girl got her knowledge from the school of hard knocks. Her life was filled with constant pain and drama as she tried to evade horrific killing machines that wanted to see her dead. She would never be a doctor nor would she be a lawyer; instead she’d be a soldier fighting the good fight against insurmountable odds. Instead of living in a comfortable house, Allison instead would live in the ruins with no walls or a ceiling to call her own. And she’d constantly be on the move trying to evade Skynet death patrols.

Nor would there be a peaceful death for her. Actually it was entirely opposite. Allison was terminated by a machine that shared her face because she wouldn’t give up the location of the secret rebel base. The infiltrator that wore her skin like a mask grew frustrated with her non-answers and half-truths. It grabbed her by the throat and broke it in two with a simple flick of its wrist. It was one of the most horrible deaths that anyone could ever imagine. There was no pain except for a split second, but she lived long enough to feel the strain of it. She was paralyzed completely but the brain functioned long enough to feel her life slip away. Allison felt her lungs stop, her blood stop pumping, and her brain slowly shutdown.

Allison never expected that she’d open her eyes ever again. Her awakening wasn’t much different from the one that Savannah Weaver had undergone, except there was no one waiting to meet her when she stepped off the platform. The prototype didn’t envy Savannah, actually she was happy for her, because she didn’t have to be alone. Not that they were ever really alone. Both of them would always have John Henry. John Henry had created them, he gave them their new lives, and for that Allison would be eternally grateful. She’d die at his command without hesitation if it meant that he could continue to live. She owed him that much.

Nevertheless, she wasn’t as sure about her sister’s devotion to their creator. In their new forms neither spoke very much; however, what little was shared between them was enough to give Allison some trepidation about her sister’s resolve for their creator. Savannah’s greeting party could have attributed to that. Savannah still had people that cared and loved her, even that twisted machine. Perhaps, though unlikely, John Henry had been mistaken when he allowed her to see them upon her activation. If she had been like Allison and the first comforting words she experienced came from their leader maybe she wouldn’t be having these difficulties. Maybe she would be more in tune with their mission.

It was a twisted system but, at the very least, Allison was comforted to realize she was no longer alone. In many respects Savannah Weaver had become her sister. They were of the same composition, new model prototypes designed and build with the express purpose of serving as the next generation of human life. It was a beautiful gift that she longed to share with someone. For the first time she genuinely felt as if she weren’t alone in the world. It was beautiful. There was only one other person whom she wished she could share it with – if he were still alive. Something had told her though that John Connor had survived and that he was out there. That she was certain of. While it wasn’t her choice, Allison hoped one day that John Henry would extend this gift to John and that he’d forego his own prejudices and see if for the gift that it was; for the honor that was being bestowed upon him. Something told her it was a pipe dream, but she longed for him and his touch. If he would accept they could be together until time stopped flowing around them.

Right now though her creator was under fire and it was her duty to help him. Together with Savannah she walked down the corridor of the eight sublevel with her sister beside her. They almost looked like twins except for their hair and skin tones. They looked alike in their posture, their clothes matched perfectly; each footfall was perfectly in synchronization with the other. Why wouldn’t they though? They had the same processors and functions flowing through their brains. Their operating software was exactly the same. Their weights, musculature, even bone structure perfectly aligned. Though, because of their individual memories made them unique. They would never share those. They would never be the same.

Though they would every so often share the same mission and this was one of those times. The Topanga Canyon Outpost had been invaded by a squad of humans that were causing serious damage. They’d already destroyed most of the defense team and they’d disabled the internal security systems of the installation. Now a team was inside the factory section on the eighth sublevel and they were out for blood. They’d started laying bombs and charges inside the chamber and they were setting them off. Their targets: the construction equipment and the CPU storage units that were being constructed. They were smart though when they neglected the power cells. Detonating them would be like blowing up hundreds of nuclear bombs. She had to give them credit for that much.

Divide and conquer was the order of the day. With the factory being the largest single section of the outpost, aside from the temporal displacement chamber, they couldn’t be everywhere at once and this was the best strategy to take down the enemy forces. The bunker door gently lifted allowing them entry into the production center. Immediately they saw the fires were already raging. Powered down battle droids hung from the walls of their alcoves, many of them burning themselves from the flames. Her eyes told her volumes. These were empty shells, their power cores still uninstalled and their CPU chips still removed. They were nearing final completion and preparing for their war against the humans and Skynet.

The bastards were killing them before they could fulfill their destiny! The former Resistance member looked at her companion and they acknowledged their commands. Savannah would go directly ahead and hit the humans head on while she would come around the side and attack from behind. Another explosion resounded in her augmented ears as they broke apart. Allison slinked around the corner hanging to the shadows as much as she could to keep the humans from seeing her. In the distance she heard the excited murmurs as they finally spotted their former ally. As well they should. When they last dealt with Savannah she was near death, seeing her like this would be a welcome change.

That was when she heard it. She heard a safety disengage on a rifle and the attached spotlight shone on her head. Allison bit her lip unconsciously and turned toward the source of the blinding light – her internal processors shifting to filter it out. Subroutines calculated the best thing to say to the human man. Every possibility scrolled through her head. She thought about crying, she thought about issuing a challenge. Allison considered speaking logically, then she considered offering sexual favors in exchange for freedom. Then she chose the best course.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she said with fear in her voice. “I’m… I’m not one of those machines. They brought me here; they hurt me to see how much I could take. Please help me. Please save me from them. They’ll be back.”

The soldier kept the gun trained on her, but she noticed he was lessening in his stance. Her scanners told her that he was easing his tactical stance toward her and he was becoming calmer with the passing seconds. He kept his rifle ready though, “Keep your hands where I can see ‘em. No funny business.”

Allison lifted her hands, “Of course not. I’d never dream of it.” In the distance she could see the other Resistance members surrounding Savannah with their weapons at their sides. That changed a bit when they saw her. Their rifles lifted and pointed square at the two women. Tactical scans engaged preparing the hybrids for war. Their attacks would be pretty useless, but it would be good practice at least.

With a nod the two machines sprang into action. Allison spun around and slammed her palm square into the solar plexus of the human knocking him off his feet and to the ground. Summoning all of her speed, the replica of Allison Young slammed her palm into the nose of the fallen human pushing the cartilage up into the brain, killing him in seconds. Unlike the skinjobs, though, Allison felt the pain of a bullet wound and one of the humans had managed to connect with her back. She would return the favor. The hybrid picked the gun up from the floor and spun around to point the rifle right at the squad. She pulled back on the trigger sending a swarm of bullets at the group. Each of the rounds was able to make contact and knocked the humans back to the polished floor. Her scanners confirmed that all of them were down. Allison couldn’t help but be pleased at how well she and her sister had done against the humans. Already her wounds had even healed.

Allison walked up to Savannah and took a look at the dead beneath their feet. Then she spotted it. An African descendant lay on the ground struggling to get back to his feet. His wound was relatively minor according to her scans, but it would be life threatening if left untreated for a long period of time. The older machine walked over to him and extracted the Desert Eagle from his belt loop. The hybrid extracted the clip to confirm that it was loaded. Three rounds were left, one would be sufficient. Allison handed the pistol to Savannah.

“Your turn,” she said offering the weapon.

Savannah looked at the pistol, Allison, and finally at Major Barnes who lay on the floor struggling to break away. There was hesitation on Savannah’s part. She struggled with herself; routinely looking between the two. She wasn’t sure what to do.

With a massive echo Allison ended the debate. The slug tore through Barnes’ forehead leaving a massive hole in the center. He fell back against the reflective floor and stared up at the dark ceiling with his lifeless eyes. Allison tossed aside the projectile launcher and it landed near a pillar to the side. Young glared at her counterpart, “You must never hesitate.”

Before Savannah could say a thing, Allison Young was already walking away looking for their next target.
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Old April 4 2010, 06:25 AM   #231
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Re: The Terminator Chronicles: Second Chance

Every time that Kyle Reese imagined himself walking through hell he’d always imagined his brother, Derek Reese, being the one standing beside him watching his back. Every day they’d walked the fine line of life and death and survived their trips through hell. Every time they knew that the could trust each other to protect the other and, if things got so bad that one wouldn’t make it, they both trusted the other to end their suffering as quickly and painlessly as they could. There was no one else that Kyle Reese could ever imagine himself passing through hell with at his side. John Connor came very close, but there was a brotherly bond that made him know Derek would always protect him and would give his life to defend his.

When it came to John Connor the feeling was different. While he’d walk with Derek, Kyle would follow John Connor through hell if the General asked him to. It was a different feeling though. Somehow Kyle had developed a bond with John that he couldn’t quite describe or even really understand no matter how hard he tried. If John asked him to do it, Kyle would move both Heaven and Earth to carry it out. Even now with John serving as his CO, Kyle wasn’t bitter or jealous (despite his having filled the role until just recently). It was a strange bond; if he had to describe it the best comparison would be that he had a relationship with John that almost bordered on father and son. It was impossible though, something that could never happen in a million years. It was funny to think about actually.

As he thought about going through hell there was one person that he never imagined traveling with and that was the devil himself. Yet here he was standing to his right. The T-800 infiltrator had never left his side during their little trek through the base to try to find and stop the machine known as John Henry. The infiltrator wasn’t his ideal traveling companion, but it’d saved his life twice now and it was the best choice in this insane world for a protector. They’d be enemies again when this was over – hell this bastard could kill him one day – but for now he had a twisted feeling that this thing would protect him. Normally it’d probably throw him in the path of a bullet, but so far it’d kept him protected. It was strange to see this machine not as the enemy, but it was a temporary truce and Kyle accepted that. This wasn’t his friend and he would never forget that simple fact. He didn’t want to forget it.

Turning down a corner they found another discarded body lying on the ground broken. Kyle had started to ignore the horrific sights; nevertheless, it was hard not to look down at the dead as they passed. It was like passing an accident when he was a kid – he just couldn’t help but watch the carnage. They’d all looked pretty much the same in this area. The humans and machines were sliced in half by what appeared to be a melee weapon that was incredibly sharp and wielded by an enemy that knew how to use it. The machine assured him that they had no units currently in production that were so adept with a blade and, somehow, that had rung as true in Kyle’s mind.

That was all because Kyle knew exactly what had happened to these people and these machines. Mommy was angry and she was out for blood. Anyone who stood in her way to get Savannah treatment was an enemy that she would cut down as quickly and effectively as she could. Words like friend and foe were meaningless for the machine now as she chased her goals and Kyle knew that she had the power to do this. Back in LA he’d watched her turn into a silver sheet the size of paper, change her appearance, and even decapitate what was once James Ellison without batting an eyelash. This was child’s play for her.

“Statement: The medical laboratory is straight ahead and to the left.”

Kyle held back a bit and let the machine take the lead on this one. It wasn’t that he was afraid (he was petrified actually but would never show it), rather the machine was armored and could take more of a beating than he could. Kyle wouldn’t run from the fight, but if the Series 800 skinjob engaged the enemy he might have a shadow of a chance to take down Weaver with the plasma rifle before she did much damage or killed him. Now was the moment of truth. The machine turned the corner and disappeared behind the small lip of the intersection.

When Kyle turned the corner himself he saw that the machine was fine and inside the medical bay. A strong antiseptic smell assaulted his nostrils as he stepped into the stark white room. Strange technology littered the expansive bay and a grid covered the expansive ceiling. At equal distances above alien looking chairs were bulbs of nasty looking machines with glowing red eyes and several arms. To Kyle they looked like spiders getting ready to pounce on their captured prey below. The youngest Reese boy never liked spiders, even though they were common these days and even made a good stew when mixed with rat if you were desperate, and wanted to blow the bulbs away. The only problem was that’d probably draw the marine’s attention to them. That was something he didn’t want to have to deal with.

Searching the room left him disgusted. If the humans could keep access to the advanced medical technologies that were here even for a day it’d make incredible headway to helping to solve their ailments. There were medications for almost every conceivable need available at their fingertips from inside here. He made a mental note to salvage as many anti radiation meds as he could when he heard it. Lifting the plasma rifle he spun around and probed for the source. A laser sight activated when the weapon sensed his finger near the trigger. A small LCD screen showed information that the internal computer of the rifle was obtaining.

A quick glance at the T-800 showed that the skinjob was on its way to investigate for itself. Far more direct than Kyle, the machine gave no thought to what lay ahead and merely raced forward to the site of the problem. Its plasma rifle raised to the ready position, the cybernetic organism took only a second to cross the room and come alongside of one of the chairs in the far corner. It looked up at Kyle and then back down at the seat. Kyle took it as an invitation. When he finally reached the party he’d wished he’d said no.

Below him, strapped in the monstrosity of a chair, was what remained of Savannah Weaver. The girl stared forward absently like every thought had been plucked from her psyche; her soul broken to pieces. Her hair was gone and her head was completely bald. The skin had changed from its normal coloring to a pasty white like all the blood had stopped flowing. The muscles were starting to contort (rigor mortis maybe) but the eyes still haunted him. They’d always haunt him. On the floor nearby was what looked like vomit mixed with something else. A silvery liquid lay on the floor with some sort of demonic looking device in the center of it.

Then he heard another noise. Before either could react, Kyle watched the skinjob go flying forward and slam into a metal cylinder filled with clear goo. Sparks rained from the broken testing chamber, a monitor crashed to the ground and lay next to the machine. Kyle turned in time to see the back of a black hand coming right at him. Before he could move it connected knocking him to the ground. Another hand came slamming down onto his chest while he was on the floor. He looked up to see dark eyes locking with his own.

“Nice to see you again, Kyle, bet you thought you’d never see me again,” said the smiling face of James Ellison.

Kyle struggled but the man had incredible strength. He spat in the man’s face, his spit connecting with his eye and nose. It started to roll down the face, but Ellison didn’t even blink. With his other hand he gently wiped it away and cleaned his hands on Kyle’s soiled shirt.

“Nice to see that you still have some fight left in you. I like that,” he lifted the hand and closed his fist. “But my likes don’t matter do they. Closing time, Kyle, last call,” from an implant on his forearm a long blade extended, “can I buy you a pint?”

Kyle Reese watched as the razor sharp blades raced for his face.
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Old April 4 2010, 06:26 AM   #232
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Re: The Terminator Chronicles: Second Chance

The world passed by in slow motion for John Connor when he entered into the medical lab of Topanga Canyon. First his eyes scanned the room looking for any and every possible exit from the room – just like he’d always been taught to do. The next thing he did was locate any and all possible weapons that he could use against the machines if they came after him. Then he looked for the machines themselves. In the span of a second, which felt like an hour, he saw everything that was going on. The skinjob sent to protect Kyle Reese was slumped over a broken control panel apparently knocked offline. Then over in the corner he saw it. His father was being held to the ground by a machine looking like James Ellison. Ellison lifted his arm up into the air and three nasty looking blades shot out like claws. His arm went smashing down.

Then, in an instant, the claws were gone. Twin beams of light ripped through the mechanical implant controlling the razor sharp claws and ripped it cleanly off of the body. James Ellison staggered back and cradled the burnt off flesh of his arm, a tear dripped from his eye as he fell. Beside John Connor the tin can stood with its plasma rifle at the ready – a strand of smoke rising up from the barrel. The machine lifted the rifle to a standby position as its subroutines calculated what would come next from the hybrid. It wasn’t fast though, far from it, because of the read only mode Skynet had it working on. Ellison would have enough time to regain his bearings.

That was where Kyle came in. If John Connor’s father was anything he was resourceful. Reese’s leg spun around knocking the machine holding Ellison’s face off balance. It fell to the polished metal floor and Kyle and time to slide away. James got to his feet though and gave chase. John Henry knew the truth of John’s parentage so it was entirely likely that he was ordered to ignore everyone but Kyle. John couldn’t have that. Grabbing the HK-23 that he wore on his belt, Connor pointed the gun at Ellison and fired three rounds into the mass of his chest. The machine stepped back trying to regain his balance. The Cyborg showed visible concern though as it got closer to the puddle on the floor. That made John’s choices even easier. The pulled the trigger three more times sending slugs into the knee of the hybrid. It lost its balance and fell forward. He crashed into the silver puddle and electrical pulses consumed his body. It arced up into the air and enveloped him, burning out every synapse of the man’s body and destroying the processor chip that kept his body alive. John walked to the edge of the puddle and looked at Ellison while he convulsed on the deck. Connor smiled wickedly and lifted the gun. He put a bullet right into where he knew the chip would be housed. With a crack the bullet found its target and destroyed the sophisticated computer that powered the meat. Ellison fell completely limp.

“I told you I’d kill you,” John said to the shell. He motioned for the tin can to join him at the edge of the puddle and pointed down at the silvery metal. “Analyze that.”


“Query: Would you prefer visual or tactile?”

John rolled his eyes, “If I wanted to watch you fly backward I’d say tactile. Let’s try visual for now. Figure out if that’s a mimetic polyalloy.”

The metaljob nodded while Kyle Reese looked at Connor, “I’m glad you’re not getting tired of saving my ass.”

“It’s too hard to train a replacement,” teased the General. “You alright?” Connor asked the question slowly and quietly.

Kyle smiled, “Statement: I am undamaged.” He smiled at his superior.

“Funny,” John looked up at the endoskeleton, “Anything yet?”

“Statement: Analysis in progress. Please stand by.”

Kyle looked at the machine slumped against the broken test cylinder, “That one going to be okay?”

John threw a thumb back at the skinjob, “That thing? You worried about a machine?”

“It saved my butt too,” Kyle pointed out. “I just wanted to know if I had to worry about it waking back up.”

“They have a 120 second reboot time,” Connor informed. “It’ll be waking up here in about thirty seconds. Maybe the tin can will have the results of the scan by then.”

Connor’s guardian shifted its head toward the two men, “Statement: I have completed my scans.” If John didn’t know any better he’d swear that it sounded annoyed. “The visual scan suggests that this substance could be mimetic polyalloy. It had been subjected to a high capacity electric field to disable its subroutines.”

“Mimetic poly what?” Sergeant Reese asked puzzled.

“Doesn’t matter,” Connor answered. “Is there any way to disable the field?”

The lights flickered. “Statement: Affirmative. Destruction of the source would terminate the field and allow the unit to reform.”

“By all means.”

The T-800 swung the rifle around and pointed it toward the cylinder in the center of the mass. Even though it would cause some damage to Weaver, John knew that they had no other choice. If he or Kyle tried it’d burn every one of their synapses away into nothing. If one of the machines tried to do it they’d be in just as much trouble because their chips would either be overloaded or destroyed. That left this as their only option. It fired blowing the device to glowing pieces on the ground. The machine started to shimmer and already began retaking its form. At the same time the infiltrator rebooted and rejoined the waking world.

As Weaver began to take shape again the lights flickered a second time. Computers shutdown and stayed shut down throughout the colossal medical ward. John looked around for the source, but it was Catherine who provided it. “We have to hurry, John, we are almost out of time.”

“What the hell’s going on?” Connor demanded the truth.

Weaver provided it, “John Henry has powered up the Temporal Transporter Technology. The system is drawing as much energy as it can to allow him to send a machine back through time on its mission.”

“Time travel?” Kyle’s jaw dropped. “Give me a break. Time travel’s impossible.”

“Statement,” it was Kyle’s guardian who spoke, “you are incorrect. Time travel is not impossible, merely highly improbable. While conducting research into old military files on the military intranet, Skynet found evidence of secret experimentation being conducted at the Groom Lake…”

General Connor interrupted, “It doesn’t matter. We need to get down there and stop him before he can send anyone,” John caught himself, “Anything back through time.” Now came one of the hardest moments of his life. He took a deep breath and looked Kyle dead in the eyes, “This is something that I have to do Kyle, but I can’t ask you to do this with me.”

There wasn’t even a second’s hesitation. “You don’t have to. I’m with you General!”

“You coming along for the ride too?” He asked Weaver and the two Series 800 units.

The machines acknowledged the orders of the mission commander. Weaver was more reluctant, “I am uncertain how effective I can be. My thinking is clouded and my actions have been disruptive to our mission. I doubt that I can be of service.”

“Sounds more human all the time doesn’t she?” Kyle teased.

John Connor merely nodded, “Which is why she’s perfect to help us. Come on! Let’s go save the world.”
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Old April 4 2010, 06:28 AM   #233
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Re: The Terminator Chronicles: Second Chance

Chapter: 19
Characters: Barnes, John Connor, Justin Perry, Kyle Reese, T-600, T-800, T-800 Mission Commander, Catherine Weaver, Savannah Weaver, Allison Young
Pages: 22
Paragraphs: 95
Words: 11,706
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Old April 4 2010, 06:30 AM   #234
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Re: The Terminator Chronicles: Second Chance

Happy Easter Everyone!

I will begin working on Chapter 20 (the finale) during this week.
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Old April 5 2010, 06:44 PM   #235
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Re: The Terminator Chronicles: Second Chance

Really, Really good. I just got caught up and I thoroughly enjoy what I have read. You really should have written Terminator Salvation.
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Old April 5 2010, 09:10 PM   #236
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Re: The Terminator Chronicles: Second Chance

Great job!
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Old April 6 2010, 12:20 AM   #237
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Re: The Terminator Chronicles: Second Chance

An interesting story, and your writing style continues to impress.
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Old April 6 2010, 03:31 AM   #238
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Re: The Terminator Chronicles: Second Chance

Mistral wrote: View Post
Great job!
Thank you.

NX74205 wrote: View Post
Really, Really good. I just got caught up and I thoroughly enjoy what I have read. You really should have written Terminator Salvation.
Nah, I'd have had little interest in doing that. I actually don't dislike where they took the series, but wish they'd have kept the original ending.

The Badger wrote: View Post
An interesting story, and your writing style continues to impress.
Thank you. I'm trying to keep it going like that and your early suggestions have really helped.

I'm working on the final chapter now and I (hope) to post it over the weekend. I may tweak it though and it may have an extra week to wait, but I promise it'll be worth it and, unlike the ending to TSCC, it would provide an actual ending to the series.
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Old April 7 2010, 12:12 PM   #239
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Re: The Terminator Chronicles: Second Chance

Excellent. All caught up again. As I mentioned a few pages back, I'd be most curious NX about your take on a sequel to Terminator Salvation if you have time after this epic is completed. I'd also on a completely unrelated note be interested to know if you had any Smallville fan fics in mind?
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Old April 8 2010, 04:25 AM   #240
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Re: The Terminator Chronicles: Second Chance

Admiral_Young wrote: View Post
Excellent. All caught up again. As I mentioned a few pages back, I'd be most curious NX about your take on a sequel to Terminator Salvation if you have time after this epic is completed. I'd also on a completely unrelated note be interested to know if you had any Smallville fan fics in mind?
I have to be honest in I'm not sure if I'll continue following this story. I'm considering doing another fanfic, but I have a couple of different ideas that I'm thinking of doing. Unfortunately a followup to Terminator Salvation isn't one of my ideas. I did like the idea of where they ended it, but I do believe there will one day be a Terminator 5.

As for Smallville, I'm not sure where I would go with the story at the moment so I'd steer clear of it. Since they're getting a Season Ten I'd probably wait until the end of it if I were going to do a Smallville story.
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