Terminator: Identity Crisis

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction' started by nx1701g, Dec 17, 2008.

  1. nx1701g

    nx1701g Admiral Admiral

    Jun 26, 2001
    2001 - 2016
    There was nothing like being caught between a rock and a hard place to get the blood pumping. For Corporal Decker and the refugees from Kansas Bunker nothing was further from the truth. Above them hovered an Aerial Hunter Killer with its massive gun emplacements pointing directly at them and ready to deliver their devastating payload to the humans ducking for cover below. Behind him in the doorway to the base stood a humanoid hunter killer that looked like it’d been through hell. A red eye glowed like blood from the damage to its face as it held a gun on them. The mechanized voice of the Flyer echoed in the background demanding that they surrender immediately or they would be terminated right then and there.

    Decker thought over his options as quickly as he could. Rumor had it that the sniper rifle he carried could take down an Aerial HK if you hit it in the right places. Namely you had to take out the engines as quickly as you could. In the crossfire people would undoubtedly be hurt or killed as he tried to slay the hovering beast. There was also the, unlikely, possibility of his missing the target. Then there was the option of shooting at the machine coming up the stairs behind them. If he hit the skin job in the right places it could be taken out quickly and they could run back into the base. Though that brought about the risk of the HK signaling Skynet for reinforcements and then he’d have an entire garrison to fight rather than an HK and a single endo. In the distance the sound of another engine could be heard meaning that something else was coming.

    Damned if you do and damned if you don’t.

    Though the Corporal never got to make the choice. In the blink of an eye six plasma pulses flew passed the human’s head at so close a range that if he had moved even a millimeter his head would be gone. At first the man thought that it was meant to be an attempted assassination but the targeting software of the machines wasn’t that bad. Then he saw what was hit. Two of the pulses slammed against the starboard VTOL engine of the HK while another two hit the one on the port. It dawned on him who fired the shots.

    It was the machine. No human was that precise firing from a free hand. The machine started to list among the heavens and spun out of control. It fell from the sky and hit the ground with a loud crash that sounded like a thousand trains passing by. Before Decker could move the machine had come up the stairs and pushed him out of the way. It brought its Plasma Rifle down to its side and pulled the trigger. More and more of the blue plasma pulses ripped out of the rifle and struck against the head of the flying machine. The red eye sensor spider-webbed and broke out like crystal. It kept firing until the head looked like the liquid metal of one of the Series One Thousand Infiltrators. After the rifle began to click it continued holding it with a single hand and put it in a relaxed position. In a boxy way it pivoted on its pelvis and then turned toward the group.

    “Target terminated.”

    Decker stared into the eyes of the machine. One was a comforting cool blue that was reassuring while the other was as red as the fires of hell. A metal skeletal skull rapped with eviscerated flesh looked back with a demonically permanent perfect smile. The infiltrator had massive damage to its sheath, but it was clear why. It was caused by the Resistance but not during this battle. This was one of the reprogrammed infiltrators that fought on their side. Everyone knew about these machines and Decker had had dealings with them before, however this was the first time that one of them had saved his ass in a fight. That still didn’t mean that he liked the damn thing and didn’t want to see it as a pile of scrap, though he couldn’t stop himself.

    “Thank you.”

    “Your gratitude is not required,” said the machine without a change in tone or pitch. “My program does not permit me to allow a human to be harmed if I am in a position to prevent it. I am programmed to follow your commands so long as they do not violate my orders not to harm humans nor myself.” It looked in the sky and saw the incoming transport. “A vehicle is approaching. Identify Friend or Foe protocols have not yet been uploaded to my neural network.”

    Grabbing his rifle this was the human’s time to shine. He brought it into position and pointed it at the incoming vehicle. The sound of a rotor was a shocking surprise compared to Skynet’s typical jet engine based transports. As the rifle scope honed in on the target the blue screen determined specifics about what he was looking at. It wasn’t a Skynet based craft, it was human made (specifically the United States of America) and had Navy designations painted on the side of its hull. The blue-green craft broadsided and the door to the cargo section slid open. A massive .50 caliber machine gun slid out of the emplacement bringing him to instant alert. Then a flare went up.

    It was a Resistance signal. Zooming in the rifle he got specifics about what he was seeing on the screen. There were two people identified as being inside the transport. One male and the other was a female. He made out their appearances – this time wanting to be sure because it could still be a trap. The first he recognized as being Private Wise of Major Young’s squad. Decker rubbed against the trigger preparing to pull it when he spotted Major Young standing nearby holding a sinister looking plasma gun. This time he looked at her wrist and saw the pass card bracelet General Connor had issued them. It was them.

    “It’s Major Young!” Decker couldn’t hide his excitement at what he saw. “She’s alive.” Hopefully his original thoughts when the doppelganger arrived would still be in play. The helicopter managed to set down and the two came running over with their weapons slung over their shoulders. When Earl saw the damaged TripEight near the refugees he lifted his weapon and held it on the machine.

    “Stand down, Private,” Decker said in a drill instructor impersonation, “He’s on our side.” The minute the Major was in range his hand shot up in salute. “Corporal Decker,” he said, “Awaiting orders.” It was shocking that the machine did the exact same maneuver.

    Cameron Phillips – playing Allison Young – repeated what she saw. “It is good to see you again,” she looked at the others, “It is good to see you all!” It stepped forward closer to Corporal Decker, “Status report.”

    “We were invaded by two SkinJobs pretending to be you, Ma’am,” admitted the sniper. “We were fooled into believing that they were you and your droid William. When they were held back they attacked the Hammerhead Bunker checkpoint and killed the two soldiers there. Then they broke into the facility and they’re trying to get to the central chamber. I don’t know anything else.”

    “That’s why you should always check these ahead of time,” The replica lifted her arm and displayed the shimmering bracelet. “Where is John?”

    Decker shook his head, “I don’t know. I haven’t been inside the base yet. I was assigned to the Crow’s Nest but I thought that I could be more help here. I was trying to cut off the one that looked like William but I found these Tunnel Rats that needed evaced. I couldn’t just leave them there to die if the Machine came for them.” He hated admitting it to a superior, “If it hadn’t been for that Scrubbed unit over there I wouldn’t have got them out. He blew that HK.”

    “You should have blown him,” mumbled Wise looking at the battle scarred weapon of mass destruction. “One less machine in the world would be good for all of us.”

    The skinjob spoke, “I am programmed neither to harm humans nor to allow humans to be harmed in my presence.”

    “You say that now, Stubby, what about tomorrow?” Insulted Wise.

    The TripEight didn’t play any longer, “I am at your disposal, Major, how may I assist?”

    Cameron was not stupid. Reprogrammed Skynet units were very dangerous for any infiltrator on assignment because of the sensor arrays that were included in their standard hardware load. The fact that her true nature wasn’t revealed yet was simply dumb luck as humans would say. Best to keep it from her. “You and Corporal Decker will proceed with these humans to a safe location nearby. I will send someone to collect you when our mission is complete.”

    “Command confirmed.”

    The Resistance sniper had to protest, “Ma’am, with respect, you need me in there. You need as many soldiers as you can in there. One machine is dangerous, two are a catastrophe.”

    “If I had needed assistance I would keep the Skinjob with me and utilize him against the machine in hand to hand combat. Since I have assigned him to you that should show that I am not in need of further assistance. Private Wise and I will be fine.” Major Young’s double broke him down.

    Not one to disobey orders, “Yes Major.” Decker turned toward his group and his unofficial second in command in the form of Riley. “Let’s move.”

    “Good luck out there Stubby,” Earl said to the Triple Eight as it left. The sounds of servomotors propelling the cybernetic organism forward echoing in the night air. He lifted the gun up and pointed it at the back of the machines head, “You know I could still take it out.”

    “Unnecessary,” she said, “We must continue. Proceed.”

    Earl smiled and took point, “Oh the wonderful life of a grunt.” He started forward down the stairs and kept his gun at the ready. Skynet was here, he could feel it, and this time he’d be ready. It wouldn’t be like their attempts to escape from the 900 Series. This time when the fight came it would be the machine that prayed for death, not him.
  2. nx1701g

    nx1701g Admiral Admiral

    Jun 26, 2001
    2001 - 2016
    As humanity began winning more and more battles in their guerilla war against Skynet a clear change in the balance of power was beginning to shine through. Realizing that the humans would be able to evade capture and termination with more and more ease because of their ability to burrow below ground, Skynet decided that it was time to leave behind the Hunter Killers and begin production on Humanoid Hunter Killer models. The initial designs were easily taken down, but with each loss Skynet learned more and more. The new data and studies of the captured human prey had opened up new avenues of attack. This was to Skynet’s distinct advantage.

    After a while the Series 600 endoskeleton was created. Despite its mammoth size, at first the unit had its advantages. However, the humans began developing countermeasures and seeing through its rubber skin disguise. Not long after Skynet was back to the drawing board looking for a new option for a humanoid killer. The Series 700 was the result but that gave birth to one of Skynet’s grandest designs: the 800 Series Infiltrator. The perfect replica of a human, it could penetrate their defenses without effort. It would then install itself in the most advantageous spot and lay waste to any humans that it encountered until either its objective was met or it was destroyed. With all the research that Skynet had conducted when designing its premiere weapon of war the destruction was rarer than the coltan used in its construction. Utilizing the genetic information left behind in the research of a Doctor Fleming the ultimate key in the puzzle had been solved and Skynet was able to upgrade these units further with their own flesh and blood. They were perfect creatures.

    Though, the humans found a way to sully Skynet’s creation. Somehow they learned how to capture members of the 800 Series and convert them to willing followers of the cause of humanity. How they could do this was hard to fathom for the supercomputer. An endoskeleton could rip the head off of a human in one point eight seconds; how could they get that close? As time passed through more and more of its children became forced deserters into the Resistance’s cause. Rather than scrap the entire proven line of infiltrators, Skynet opted instead to make some modifications to their designs. A short time later the Series 850 was born inside a lab deep within the Mojave Desert. Bulked up to deal with their fallen brothers and sisters, the 850 could handle extreme punishment and still keep coming. Though it was too late for the design in a sense. The older models still proved effective in combat against them.

    Skynet was losing its perfection and it needed to find a way to recapture its former glory and the humans were the way to do it. The Machine Supercomputer started capturing humans and conducting its own brand of a draft using them as the meat for the grinder. It wasn’t hard. Through the research into humans that it had conducted (as well as their collected medical libraries) Skynet had more than enough data to conscript a new army. There were many deaths, but the Infiltrator 950 was worth it. As they waged war against old friends, the machine intelligence was still going forward. This time with a machine designed to take care of its wayward children specifically.

    The T-888 series was a compact version of the tried and true 800. Despite being smaller, it had improvements in every way. New sensors, augmented tactical computers, faster processors, improved strength, and enhanced durability. If humanity could bring it, the Triple Wight could take it and spin it. There were no Achilles Heels, no defects to exploit, and with Project Angel’s research they were perfect killers capable of looking like a man or woman without needing to appear like a bodybuilder. They were capable of terminating other machines with ease, including members of their own class as needed. Though they fell at times as well leading to a self destruct mechanism if tampered with in some of the newer models; that was why they were a stop gap until the locked access 900 Series could be completed.

    All though were subservient to what would become the true representation of the spite that the machine intelligence felt. The T-1000 was born from the hatred that Skynet felt toward all humankind. Capable of changing its appearance and forming weapons from its own body, it was a true weapon of mass destruction. So much so that Skynet had come to fear the T-1000 rather than embrace it. The prototypes were left, but they were needed elsewhere. The T-X was to be the last in its long line of infiltrators – a blending of the stability of the endoskeleton and the functionality of the mimetic polyalloy – but they were years from being viable.

    So Skynet was forced to rely on agents of the past in this final battle. Cromartie and the Model 101 ran full speed toward one another and collided with an ear shattering boom. Machine arms slammed against one another with the force of a runaway locomotive. Their bodies moved in a well choreographed dance of a battle. Both machines knew what the other was thinking, both were pooling their information from a central combat file locked away inside their processors below a one inch think reinforced steel structure. As one would make a move to attack the other would counter it with a perfect deflect. The ballet between them continued on and on in repeated movements. As one would switch to a new attack pattern the other instinctively switched to the same pattern. The adversaries were perfect in their assault against each other. They really were perfect creatures.

    Cromartie’s hand came up into the face of the other machine like a striking cobra in a punch that would have killed any human it collided with. The opponent simply ignored what would have been a killing blow and threw a similar punch at his opponent. The dark haired skinjob deflected and stepped back before a connection could be made. Scanning the environment it found and started swinging a fire extinguisher against its opponent in a wide arc. The extinguisher collided with the upper torso of the human allied machine and knocked it back. It had its own defense already lined up. A massive punch slammed against the middle of Cromartie’s chest sending the other machine flying into a nearby bank of consoles. It fell to the deck reading an electrical discharge that threatened to disable its systems. The discharge barely missed him causing the machine to simulate gratitude at avoiding a two minute shutdown where the other machine could have done whatever it wanted without any defense being possible.

    The Resistance Droid slammed a wrench against the corner of Cromartie’s head where the chip lay perilously close to the surface. Numbers scrolled through the chip in a replica of pain – so much so that the Skynet Droid recoiled in pain. Blood rolled from the open wound. The other was doing so much better in this attack than Cromartie would have anticipated. Normally the Resistance was forced to wipe much of what was in their database to get them controlled when reprogrammed. Cromartie remembered this fact well. Only a short time ago he had been one of these servants of John Connor’s whims. Thankfully Skynet restored him from that indentured servitude. With quickness he was back on his feet and grabbed hold of the other machine by the neck. Grabbing onto the stomach of the foe, Cromartie flipped him into the air.

    Somehow the other rebounded. He ran forward and punched four times in the face then kneed Cromartie in the chest. Diagnostic systems registered the impacts with each one and offered repair options. Though each of them would degrade combat effectiveness as the system attempted to mend itself. With the way things were going even a one second delay could be disastrous. Utilizing an ancient form of martial arts, one that was at the end of the list of combat training, Cromartie hoped to recover the edge. Leaping into the air he kicked at the other machine and knocked it flat on its back. Landing next to his head, Skynet’s soldier slammed its foot down and narrowly missed the other cybernetic organism. It did a similar maneuver to Cromartie’s previous and tried to body slam him. This time though the machine was prepared. It pulled at the back of the Model 101’s neck and tried to expose the hydraulics. If it could rip them free this would be over now.

    The T-101 didn’t like that and threw him away like a rag doll. Cromartie landed on one of the Transporter Consoles and smashed it inward with his bulk. Their battle was joined again. The Skynet Unit dodged a punch and used the stability of its brother to lean to the side and deliver a series of kicks against the chest plate. Still holding onto the arm it swung around and delivered a similar hit to the back. Damage control circuits cried in pain on both weapons of war. It picked up the other one handed and threw him toward the same bank of panels it had thrown him into seconds earlier. When the T-101 arose it was on fire. Cromartie used this to his advantage and started the fight anew. Punching at the head assembly the sound of it cracking could be detected by his auditory sensor suite. Using human kidney punches it tried to get to the power supply. Utilizing its legs the scrubbed Triple Eight kicked Cromartie away and into a wall. It got back on its feet quickly.

    As the Model One Hundred One came for another attack that was when the newer model determined its best avenue for success: the humans. It rolled just in time to avoid another impact from the other machine and came within a foot of one of the workstation terminals. It grabbed the primitive and made it into a shield to protect against the attacks of the other machine. Cromartie knew the programming well, this one couldn’t allow a human to come to harm and that was exactly what Cromartie was doing. It held the human by the neck and stared at its opponent. Red eyes flashed and were met by a repeat from the light haired opponent. With incredible speed the Skynet machine threw the human toward the main chamber’s massive drop. Rather than continue the assault against his former brother, Model 101 ran passed to rescue the human. This was the edge it needed.

    The optical scanners of the Triple Eight were the best available to a Skynet assassin. The protocols searched everything they passed over for a suitable weapon for what was being planned. On its first sweep it found what it was looking for. It ripped the metal safety bar free from its place and held it like a professional track star readying the javelin for a throw. It ran behind its cousin as it tried to rescue the human that hung for dear life on the edge. In the span of five seconds it was right on top of its cousin holding tightly to the metal rod it held in its hand. The targeting computer analyzed the situation in trillionth of a second and told it exactly where it needed to strike. With so much force that it could have pushed the entire rod into the ground Cromartie ripped into the other machine with the metal bar. The hyperalloy combat chassis groaned from the stress as the HUD of Skynet’s Killing Machine told it exactly what it needed to do and how much pressure it needed to apply. The other machine, while holding onto the human with one hand, tried to fight back to no avail. Cromartie pulled the bar away and threw it aside. As the machine tried to save the human, the Skynet demon reached in and removed the power supply of its adversary. It looked between the two and calculated its options. It didn’t terminate, rather it tossed the power cell aside and walked away. It would not destroy such a worthy opponent especially since it was powered down. The auxiliary circuits were a concern, but they would need another minute before they could restore the machine to working order. If it opted to attack with a diminished power supply it would be over though in seconds. Cromartie would have a significant edge with the Model 101 only having a 17.5% chance of success.

    It pulled the human up one handed and stared into its eyes. A quick scan revealed that the human had suffered five broken ribs, a fractured wrist, and the musculature was strained. Adrenaline production was at dangerous levels signifying an initiation of the humans flight or fight response. From the appearance of the human flight was the preference. Cromartie didn’t care about the human unless it denied the request he had to make. It pulled him within an inch of his face and spoke with a perfect voice.

    “You will assist me,” the machine said.

    “I will not,” he spat in Cromartie’s face. There was blood among the spit that rolled down the skin. Perhaps Cromartie’s initial assessment was incorrect.

    The skinjob extended his arm fully and held the human over the drop off. “You will assist me or I will terminate you. If you assist me I will allow you to live.”

    When offered with a situation that would benefit them in the long run almost eighty-three percent of the time the humans would accept the offer that supplied them with the greatest advantage. Through the pupil dilations, skin temperature, and motor response Cromartie had his answer. It pivoted its arm and then dropped the human just inside the catwalk. “I require you to activate the temporal transporter. I can then proceed from there on my own.”

    “And you’ll let me live?”

    The machine was already walking to a first aid station and scanning through the contents. “Yes,” it answered in holophrase. It didn’t need to watch the human to know its actions. Through the sensors it could detect the keyboard clacking as the bubble tech typed. The faint electronic hum of the transporter filled the chamber. While the device readied itself the machine pulled a vial from the cabinet filled with rubbing alcohol. It poured the liquid onto the wounds and let the damage repair systems handle the rest of it. They went white from chemical reaction then the skin instantly reformed itself where it had once been open. One of the other technicians mumbled in shock at seeing Cromartie restored to perfection.

    “The device is ready!” Yelled the technician over the roar of the transporter.

    The restored skinjob didn’t need the human to tell it that. Disrobing as it crossed the small catwalk that was hastily installed the machine stepped into the middle of the chamber as it filled with energy. Completely naked it threw the pants it had worn toward the control dais only to have them disintegrate. It wondered, for a moment, if the bullet it had fired at the Resistance Soldier upon entry into the chamber had suffered a similar fate or impacted the target. Then it got back to business.

    A metal plate rose from the floor after Cromartie crouched inside the white circle. It began to spin around him at an incredible speed – becoming faster than what a mortal man could see. On its HUD the mission priorities replayed focusing on destroying John Connor and his mother Sarah Connor in the year 1999. It interfaced with the primary computer processor and – utilizing the Skynet backdoor – set its delivery date. A blue electrical field surrounded the battle droid as the transporter engaged. Beyond the field the machine it had disabled stirred to life and came up on its two feet. It stared through the field watching him. Cromartie sent it a salute by flashing his eyes red which the other returned. Seconds later the winner of the battle was gone. The machine powered back down.

    As the Transporter restored its power save mode the doors to the chamber opened once more. Through the portal came Major Allison Young and Private Earl Wise carrying their rifles at the ready for whatever they saw inside. One of the technicians recoiled and dove back below the computer station in an attempt to hide. The other, the one who had just beamed Cromartie to the past, broke down to his knees begging them not to kill him for his crimes. The infiltrator just stood there in a stance like a zombie as its systems tried to mend. The power cell of the machine was sitting perilously close to falling off the ledge and into the abyss below.

    “Looks like we missed him,” muttered Earl Wise as he looked around the room. “Not to mention a good party. Your handiwork I take it tin can.”

    “I was unable to stop the T Triple Eight from utilizing the temporal transporter. It has proceeded on its mission,” said the machine with a thick Austrian brogue. “We will have no way of knowing what its mission was or the time period to which it travelled.”

    Cameron Phillips – impersonating Allison Young – was happy that her mechanical brother had succeeded in his mission; nevertheless, she needed to keep up appearances. “How could you have let it escape? We have no idea what kind of trouble its causing back whenever it went!”

    “Excuse me but time period? What is this?” Asked a bewildered Wise.

    “Skynet developed temporal transportation devices,” reported the Model 101. “This is one such model of Temporal Displacement Equipment. We captured it during a mission and brought it back to this base using conscripted Series 600 labor and a reprogrammed Aerial Hunter Killer. We have not tested its theoretical limits; nonetheless, we believe them to be indefinite.”

    Earl looked at the chamber, “So you’re saying it’s a time machine?”


    “In that case why doesn’t Connor just send everyone back to take out Skynet in the past? Why all this mucking around in the future!” The Private was pissed that they were living a life in hell when they could just go back in time and stop this before it happened. Let Skynet have this world, they could have the past and make a new one.

    “Temporal science is not easily understood,” explained the Bubble Tech who had been cowering. “Plus one transport takes a lot of power. I think that the machine – that looked like a member of your team mind you – was sent here to destroy it in his transport. But he was out of time. Bob was coming back online and would have fought him again. He had to leave when he did.”

    Wise just stared at the open chamber, “We’ve heard about William and a replica of Major Young being here. We’re going on the hunt to find it.”

    “I will accompany you.” The tin can with the ripped face offered.

    “Negative,” interrupted Major Young, “if I am not interrupted by my scout I am keeping you here incase the replica of me comes here to use the transporter. She may attempt to double back and destroy it in Cromartie’s stead.”

    Bob nodded, “Understood. I will follow General Connor’s original directives and remain here.”

    “Where is John?” Asked Allison/Cameron.

    The damaged tin can looked at her for a moment, “I am under orders not to reveal his location.”

    “I am giving you an order,” she called upon Young’s status in the base hierarchy. “Tell me where he is!”

    “I am not authorized to answer your question. Orders issued by General Connor supersede orders issued by lesser ranked personnel. Yourself included.”

    Time to appeal to the emotional side, the female automaton pulled on the slider that activated the Plasma Rifle. Pointing it at the infiltrator’s head, “Please. I love him.”

    It was the Bubble Tech that stopped her. He pushed the gun away, “It’s okay, Bob, the Major and General Connor have been screwing each other for months. Everyone knows about it. General Connor’s in Emerald City. They thought it would be best to keep him there under guard.”

    “Understood,” said Cameron knowing the meaning. Emerald City was from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum. According to intelligence reports it was a favorite of General Connor. “Thank you,” she added.

    “Just save John,” said the Bubble Tech, “He’s our last hope.”

    As Allison/Cameron stood at the door she pivoted her head back into the chamber. With a smile she said, “I know.”
  3. Tim

    Tim Vice Admiral Admiral

    Mar 25, 2005
    Red Sox Nation
    Looking forward to the final installment(s)!
  4. nx1701g

    nx1701g Admiral Admiral

    Jun 26, 2001
    2001 - 2016
    And here it is. I present to you the FINALE:

    Allison Young peered around the corner and looked down upon what man had created. A long deserted corridor filled with debris was scattered about throughout her field of vision. A fire burned in an oil drum that had been conscripted into a new purpose and the gentle glow of flames came from inside a hollowed out television. When Connor’s lackeys triggered the alarms the humans didn’t delay in preparing themselves for the invasion. Most likely they assumed a full invasion consisting of an entire legion of Series 800 Endoskeletons and tactical support. This wasn’t that kind of fight. Skynet had found it more to the point to be direct like a scalpel instead of cutting away with an axe. She and Cromartie – or William as the Resistance had called him – penetrated the defenses with ease and were now both stalking through the base on their own assignments.

    Cromartie had beaten her to the punch. Her connection to him had been lost and was greeted by static every time she tried to reestablish a contact. There were two possibilities. Either Cromartie had succeeded in which case he was on his way to the past making her assignment moot, or he had been destroyed and that made her task all the more important. When assigned to this mission Allison wondered what the necessity for them both being assigned to kill Connor was. If Connor was killed in the past why would she need to kill him in the present? Wouldn’t he simply vanish into the netherworld of having never existed in the first place? Skynet overruled her considerations and informed her in his comforting voice that he knew best for them and that this was the way.

    Like all of Skynet’s Children it couldn’t defect from that belief. There had been rumors and gentle murmurs of dissenters that spread through the link though Skynet was quick to squash those traitorous stories. More and more they were being informed of the existence of the missing as they were know: machines forced to serve Connor and his whims. Those that had been allowed to think on their own feared this fate, Allison included.

    The prospect of tackling this last phase of the mission on her own was daunting and a bit frightening to the advanced model infiltrator. While the replica of Allison Young couldn’t feel emotions, they knew a lot more and felt more than a simple human mind could understand. It was her own relief when she was able to establish a connection with two of her kind deep inside this base. One of them was a mystery – probably being converted into one of Connor’s legion – but the other had a familiar feel to her. It was the one known as Cameron Phillips. Knowing that her sister couldn’t feel jealousy toward her was a reassurance to the replica of Major Young. Cameron had been the unit assigned to the interrogation while Charles Fischer had been tired of delays and simply sent Allison out on her own using Cameron’s interrogation files as inspiration. As it stalked through the hallways it simulated Cameron’s chances at all stages of this mission. Would she have had more success?

    It was doubtful. First hand experience wasn’t limited in this modern era. Information was freely exchanged between Skynet’s Droid Army with little risk of degradation. If one experienced it then they all could have experienced it through the link. That was probably how Cameron knew to wear the bracelet into the Connor Camp. Allison had sent the message through the pipeline for all to hear before she got too deep into the Resistance Outpost. Since Skynet had decided to send along another series of infiltrators to shore up her assault that was under its prerogative as supreme commander. Allison would have to simply adjust to that fact. Fortunately they were all able to adapt easily. In this line of work adaptation was the key to success.

    Clutching on the AP50 handgun that she had acquired from a fallen human, Allison started down a new hallway toward her quarry. While on her rampage through the base she had encountered a helpful human who had been so kind to spill his guts to her about where Connor was hiding and that there was only one way in and out. After telling the skinjob what it wanted to know and how to get there, Allison got him to spill his guts again, this time literally. The machine then proceeded on this course finding the entryway to Connor’s Emerald City as they called it. The door was unadorned and as simple as any other to the naked eye. The cybernetic organism knew better. Switching through the spectrums of light it learned the truth about the doorway to Connor’s inner sanctum. It was surprisingly well reinforced against attack. The door came from a warship not unlike those of the Enterprise. This would take time.

    Fortunately she had plenty of it.

    In the world of the future hunger and disease were rampant problems that afflicted everyone. It had been told through stories that were almost legend of a time when food was plentiful and illnesses were easily mended. Food was so plentiful that it could be acquired on the sides of street corners at small fast food joints and most of the time it was discarded before it was finished. In the world of tomorrow no one would dare throw away food like that. Here they ate garbage for dinner and that was if they were lucky.

    For the very first time since before Judgment Day Sumner couldn’t imagine eating anything. When he reported to the mess for dinner he had been famished. As he was about to dig into his chow the alarms went off that the base had been infiltrated by the machines. Instantly his appetite turned to an upset stomach. Not long ago a machine had infiltrated the last base he was assigned to and killed over a dozen good men and women before it was stopped including Sumner’s best friend. They retaliated against Skynet and invaded one of their bases in revenge, but Sumner lost a good friend there too: Kyle Reese.

    Now he and the rest of his team were on patrol of the area of Kansas Bunker that they called the Emerald City waiting for a machine to come to them. They had already found a tunnel rat who had met with the machine in a gruesome way. Another person in exile in this base told them that he heard everything: including the revelation of where Connor was hiding to the infiltrator. General Connor was locked away in the Wizard’s Tower with two of the scrubbed machines – including the scrubbed trip eight that had attacked his last assignment – protecting him from the assassin. Two tin cans were enough to protect anyone from an attacker, but what if this was one of those newer models? Sumner watched a reprogrammed Triple Eight go toe to toe with one of the new Series 900 units in the Canyon. The TripEight could kill a human in seconds, but it got its ass handed to it by the new one. It was a badass killer that was reinforced with some sort of hell born armor. What if they were tracking one of them? Would he plasma rifles even put a dent in it?

    It was times like this that Sumner missed the old butter bar Derek Reese. When Reese was around it wasn’t Sumner’s duty to lead the team into battle, it was his as the Lieutenant in command of the strike team. The bad thing was that if they ever – when he reminded himself – found Derek it would be his billet to tell him about Kyle’s death. The Reese Boys were an unstoppable team (at least that was how the Resistance felt about them); if they were sent on an op together then it was a battle that was as good as won. But now the Resistance would have to find a way to make it without the Reese boys. Sumner couldn’t believe it when Kyle didn’t come back from the battle at the Canyon. He died fighting the machines though, or so Connor claimed, and that was how they all wanted to go out. It was days earlier that they watched as Derek was loaded up onto a Monkey Wagon and taken to a Skynet Slaughter House for processing and probably execution for crimes against ‘The leader of the Earth’. What a disgusting joke of a reality they lived in.

    A tone came from the radio that was clipped on his belt. Per their training the four man team looked around and sweeped the area with their rifles looking for an enemy. Not finding any they closed in around Sumner as he knelt down with the radio in hand. Flipping through the frequencies he found the appropriate secured channel for the message. It was coming from within the base itself.


    “Sergeant,” it was the voice of Technician Ozzel (or Oz as he liked to be called). He worked inside Connor’s mystery chamber with whatever the hell it was they were doing in there. His gruff base voice came again, “The machine got away, but it won’t be a problem for us in the base anymore.”

    Sumner and his team exchanged puzzled looks, “Excuse me?”

    “That answer’s classified,” the missing voice said, “but you don’t have to worry about the one that looks like William. Major Young is coming to join you and your team to hunt the other one.”

    The Soldier couldn’t believe it, “Major Young is who we’re tracking. You had her too and let her get away?”

    “This is Major Young herself, Sergeant,” the voice was defensive. “She’s wearing the ID Bracelet. The other isn’t. Be sure to check that before you shoot to kill. I’d hate for you to kill Connor’s girlfriend.”

    “I would too,” he scanned the radio. “Where’s she coming from?”

    “She and another, I think it’s Wise, were with me in the Chamber. They’ll be with you in five or so.”

    Sergeant Sumner sighed and let out a long breath before speaking again, “Oz, this thing is after Connor and could very well get to him before we do if we wait around to Major Young and Private whatshisface. I’m taking my team in to take the metal bitch down with or without Major Young.”

    “You have your orders, Sergeant, I suggest that you follow them.”

    “Fine,” the Soldier relented. “I’ll give her five and then we’re going after it whether the Major’s here or not.”

    “All we ask.” The radio squawked.

    Sumner looked at the rest of his Eagle Watch Team, “Anyone gotta deck of cards?”

    Despite being a tomb for ages past the boneyard that was once Los Angeles, California really was a beautiful sight to behold at daybreak. The clouds took on an eerily beautiful golden-silvery haze as the beams of light filtered through them. As the sun rose between the sporadic breaks in the cloud cover the disgustingly amazing skeletal remains of the concrete jungle took on a beautiful new appearance. It was like something an artist would have rendered on a computer years ago in some sort of doomsday scenario. What was designed to be haunting in the past was a brutal reality in the future, but you could find beauty in all the wrong places from time to time.

    Corporal Decker, his drafted second in command (a kid named Riley), a scrubbed Triple Eight that he’d nicknamed Chewie, and a ragtag platoon of survivors slowly made their was through the remains of yesterday trying to find someplace to hide. Their home had been obliterated ages ago and their new one had been invaded by a machine intent on killing all of them. Rather than let their enemies succeed in killing these struggling survivors, Decker snuck them out and tried to get them to safety. While escaping he came across another version of Allison Young and one of her teammates, but that still played out in his head. Something was wrong. This was all wrong.

    Not long ago an infiltrator wearing the Major’s face broke into the base, murdered a whole slew of humans sent against her, and was trying to get to a leader that Decker would much prefer to see dead for his latest actions and growing machine sympathy. Perhaps it would be poetic justice if one of those machines had killed him, though where would that leave humanity? Was the trust right? Was the prophesy of John Connor right? He’d been hunted by the machines before he was born – or so the story went – how could it have been true?

    “You okay?” Asked his young XO as she cradled the gun he let her carry. “Do you need to rest? Are you hurt?” She stammered through some of the words as they escaped her lips.

    “Something’s not right,” answered the Corporal. “I can feel it.”

    Riley smiled, “What do you mean? What’s wrong? Are their more of those robot skeletons coming?”

    “Cybernetic Organism,” informed the machine they’d dubbed Chewie.

    Decker lifted a finger in warning to their exposed guardian telling him that this wasn’t the time. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m supposed to be back there. I have to go back.”

    “We have to stick together!” Riley yelled a bit louder than she should have. “We have to get to Serrano Point.”

    “Calm down,” Decker’s voice remained reassuring. “My destiny isn’t at Serrano Point. You go there, all of you go there, Chewie will keep you safe.”

    Riley looked at the battle worn machine with his half exposed skull, “You want us to trust him?”

    Decker nodded an acknowledgement, “You couldn’t ask for a better guardian. He’ll keep you safe, that’s what he’s programmed for.”

    “First Jesse and now you!” Riley started to cry.

    “I hope you can understand one day,” said the Resistance’s best sniper, “But we’ll see each other again. I’ll find you at Serrano.” He walked over to the machine, “I’m trusting you to get these people to the Resistance Outpost. Keep moving, you know that Skynet will be coming for you. It’ll be coming for us all.”

    The exposed skinjob nodded, “You have my word.”

    Decker handed off his sniper rifle to the machine and took his plasma rifle, “I’m going to want that back.”

    “And you will have it.”

    Corporal Decker nodded to the machine and turned on his heel. He stopped at Riley and leaned in next to her, “Be brave kid. You can do it. I see great things for you.”

    She hugged him, “Be safe.”

    “You too.” As fast as he could the Resistance sniper took off and went back to the base ready to fight again. Behind him the refugees continued.

    Earl Wise felt like he was committing suicide. It was true that the Resistance had the numbers as far as this battle was concerned. There were squads looking for this damned beast, they had some of the best of the best stationed here to take on any metal that got beyond the lines, but there was a finality to everything. It hung in the air like a stink telling him that this was all going to be over soon. In every other fight he’d felt the typical butterflies, not that he’d admit it, but this was different. He had the very distinct impression that he’d be dead when all of this was over.

    Major Young wasn’t being much help. The silence between the two of them had returned. Ever since they had their heart to heart as the helicopter came in for a landing he had thought that they’d made real growth toward friendship. Each had revealed something traumatic from childhood and they seemed to be bonding. When they learned of the invasion from the soldier though that changed. It was like a flip switched inside the Commander’s head and they were back into a mission mode. It wasn’t much different from serving with a machine. Wise hadn’t fought with the Major long and this could have been perfectly normal, but there was something disconnected about all of this. It may have been that the skinjob was using her face to lead this fight, but there was more to it than met the eye. Maybe it was General Connor? Most everybody knew of the Major’s relationship with humanity’s savior.

    It got worse in the Time Displacement Room. She was deliberately trying to keep ahead of him now; however, he couldn’t blame her. There was new electricity in the air from that revelation that the machines had penetrated the temporal barrier and were now sending weapons of war into the past as easily as if it were sending them through a door to another room. Earl had been stupid there as they all surveyed the devastation in the chamber. His point was a legitimate one though when you thought about it. Why were they mucking around in this hellhole when they could be living it up in the past? Power consumption aside it wasn’t like they could make things any worse by going to the past. Things were already bad enough in this world that it couldn’t get any worse.

    “I thought that you disliked uncomfortable silences,” Major Young’s lyrical voice came to his ears.

    Had she really spoke first? “I was just thinking about saying something, Ma’am. Is everything okay for you? You seem more distant than ever.”

    “My home has been invaded again and the chances of survival are slim,” she deliberately avoided using a precise mathematical figure. “Those metal bastards are using my face and they sent an infiltrator with my face to kill the man that I love. I am not distant, I am determined.”

    “Do you know where we’re headed?” He had to ask.

    The replica of Allison Young nodded, “Of course. We are going to meet up with Sergeant Sumner’s team and then proceed to Emerald City to protect John from the other Allison.”

    “Does that bother you?” Earl asked as they ran. “Having to kill a machine with your face?”

    “I do not see it as killing if it was not alive in the first place,” Allison/Cameron replied.

    Earl smiled, “You know what I mean.”

    “I do not,” she responded simply as they came across Sumner’s team.

    “No I suppose you don’t.” He said it hopefully out of earshot after she joined with Sumner’s Team.
  5. nx1701g

    nx1701g Admiral Admiral

    Jun 26, 2001
    2001 - 2016
    C.715.P was growing tired of dealing with the humans. When Skynet assigned her to work with Allison Young the hyperalloy combat chassis had seen it as just another assignment in the war against humanity. As time went on it became more and more difficult to work with the human and to separate fact from fiction. Humans had a propensity for lies and deception. Allison Young was no exception to that fact. It was through her trickery that this mission had taken on this avenue. That was why, against Skynet’s directives, Cameron terminated her in the interrogation room and engaged this mission.

    As punishment she was assigned to work with this human Earl Wise. The primate was entirely too talkative and over the top at times even for a human. Cameron had wished that she could have killed him without delay, but he was assisting with the mission in more ways than his primitive brain could comprehend. Additionally, interactions with him had allowed her to explore a new tactic for interrogations. By revealing a story from Allison’s past – which could have been another deception – she had acquired a new factoid that would aid her in future missions. It was a fascinating field of study. Now she had to work with more of the humans, a mission requirement that she would not relish.

    “Sergeant Sumner?” Asked Cameron when she reached the team. Their guns were locked onto her torso in a standard human attack maneuver. The reinforced plating would protect her from several impacts, but their concentrated pattern would give them the advantage if they decided to fight. “I asked the Technician to…”

    “Far enough! Let’s see your wrist.”

    The replica of Major Young exposed the bracelet on her wrist, “I had expected as much. As you can see I am Major Allison Young, Sergeant, now can we get back to the mission or are you and your men going to keep jerkin off letting that bitch with my face get away?”

    “Sorry, Ma’am, can’t be too careful,” the Sergeant lowered his weapon and his men did the same, “especially with a duplicate of you running around trying to kill us all.”

    “I understand,” she answered. “I want to continue on to the Emerald City. My facsimile will be going there to find John. We need to stop that Metal bitch before she has the opportunity.”

    Sayles chuckled, “That’s the understatement of the year.”

    “I will ignore your comment, Private,” Cameron looked at the leader of the group. “You have point.”

    Sergeant Sumner didn’t object and followed orders like a dutiful soldier.

    Allison Young ripped at the door with incredible force pulling it off the hinges after dealing it major damage. Her eyes flashed a cool blue as she passed through the door. The corridor was a Y shaped intersection with both tunnels containing armed humans standing at the ready. Rather than deal with them she lifted the AP50 with the depleted uranium rounds and fired a single shot at each. The bullets ripped through the soft tissues of their skulls with little effort clearing the way for her to go deeper into the chamber to reach General Connor and kill him.

    Scanning both passageways the perfect creature calculated the optimal route to reach Connor’s command center. There were no markers in this section, no points of reference for her to use as navigational aids. The machine calculated a number of variables and considerations based upon information inside her database and kept coming to the same result. It was a fifty – fifty choice. Either was an acceptable course to explore. Connor had to be hiding behind one of them. That much was a certainty. He had no other means of escape if what the human had told the machine was true.

    It made a judgment call. It took the tunnel on the right.

    Corporal Decker saw the bodies of Sergeant Griffin’s team as he made his way through what was left of Kansas Bunker. Technician Ozzel had told him that one of the machines had done this (which he already knew) and that they had taken care of it before it could cause any more problems to the base. Decker knew that was a lie, but didn’t care to discuss it very much with Oz when there was a mission to be performed. Behind him one of the reprogrammed Triple Eights stood watch with a gaping wound in its mechanical chest spilling replicated blood on the deck.

    As he pulled an ammo cartridge from Griffin’s belt he thought about what he would do when he came across Major Young and Earl Wise. There was no proof that Allison was one of the machines other than his own gut feeling. His feelings earlier gave that other machine the way into the base and now they had to fight to retake it from the enemy. It was right before, but was it right this time too? Decker hoped so for all their sakes. If he was wrong then he would be nothing more than a killer.

    Ozzel graciously told him where Major Young was headed. After telling him to find a way to reseal the door, the Sniper started on his way again to find them before it was too late. He considered bringing along the Tin Can but decided this was a mission best left for his own devices. More true if he decided to allow the skinjob to kill Connor for his crimes.

    As he ran after them Decker wondered if that would be what he would do after all.

    “Where do we go now?” Asked Sergeant Sumner as they came to the same intersection that the replica had just been at. “We have two choices and both of them lead to the same place.”

    “I fail to see the problem,” answered Cameron Phillips as she scanned both corridors. “If both tunnels terminate in the same location it would not matter which direction we chose. Either would be acceptable.”

    Sayles lifted an eyebrow at the Major’s comment and Wise looked just as confused. “If we can guess which way she went, Major, then maybe we can cut her off before she reaches General Connor.”

    “I understand that,” said Cameron in response, “but we have no way of knowing which way she went. These bodies are no indication as there are corpses along both options”

    Timms wasn’t happy at his friends being referred to as little more than a corpse, “Those were people, Major, if you can remember that. Are we even sure this is Major Young in the first place? She sounds like a zombie to me!”

    Before anymore fighting could break up it was Private Wise that broke into the fight. “There are six of us,” pointed out Earl from behind his Commander. “We can split up. Three down each corridor trying to stop the machine before she kills the General. That sound good to you?”

    “I wouldn’t recommend splitting up normally against one of these machines,” Sumner said to the ranking officer, “Strength in numbers and all that. But it isn’t a bad idea. If we stop her before she get’s the General then we’re money.”

    Cameron was, secretly, scanning the corridor looking for recent footfalls to know where her sister was going. It didn’t take long for her enhanced sensors to pick up the trail of slight heat that radiated from where she had headed. Her cover was about to be blown and it was a risk to allow that to happen. Not now that she was this close to the end. She had to keep this up as long as she could to protect herself from being discovered.

    “Your recommendation is accepted as our plan of action,” answered the machine. “Private Wise will accompany me as well as Sergeant Sumner. We will go through the tunnel on the right. You remaining three men will go down the opposite tunnel and we will meet again at the end of the line. If you see the machine shoot to kill. Understood?”

    Sumner broke in, “Excuse me, Major, but it would be better if you take one of the privates with you and I lead the other team. I’m their CO since Lieutenant Reese is missing. I can lead them and I’m sure that you’ll have nothing by my man’s respect and support.”

    “Very well,” she conceded. “Shall we continue before the General is killed?”

    They split up on their own separate routes. Little did they know Cameron was leading them into a trap.

    Allison Young heard the voice of her sister as she ran down the corridor toward the endgame. The humans were on her and they were ready to kill her on sight rather than capture like they had so many others. They weren’t to become lost ones, they were simply going to be melted down to scrap. So she suggested a plan of attack. Allison would double back and they would meet up and kill her team then go after Connor together. It was an old trick but it was still an effective one.

    Compressing herself against the stony wall her auditory scanners issued an alert. She lifted her AP50 up into a ready position and calculated the optimal firing distance for the human known as Sayles. Cameron had informed that she would take care of the one known as Earl Wise. Then, together, they would find Connor and cut of his head then place it on a Pike for all to see. Timing was critical. One mistake and this would be done and their cover would be blown. Inside her head behind her brown eyes the message flashed before her that Cameron was in place. Jumping out of her place she lifted her weapon and pulled the trigger.

    There were very few ways in and out of the Emerald City and only one way in if you were standing up. Corporal Decker knew that the risks were greater if he were to come in the old fashioned way, so he ripped the metal grate of the ductwork and crawled inside the old metal conduit. It was filthy and nearly impossible to make anything out, but he was still able to maneuver through.

    Periodically he peered through the small slits to regain his bearings. He was above the left tunnel that led to General Connor’s central chamber. It was cold, dark, and he felt like he was going to get a headache but he pushed on through it. There were bodies lining the floors with the obvious impact of an AP50 round in the soft tissue between the eyes. At least the machine didn’t make them suffer. As he kept crawling he heard low voices from nearby. In the shadows he could make out three bodies walking forward to the chamber with guns drawn.

    Probably a hunting party was all he could think to himself. Instinctively he decided to follow them to the chamber and provide support from above.

    Everything happened so fast. One minute they were walking down the corridor watching for the skinjob and the very next he heard the recoil of Major Young’s plasma rifle firing a shot. Earl steeled his body and waited for the fight to begin but instead all he saw was a machine down on the ground ahead. The blast from the Major’s gun struck the adversary square in the chest and disabled it without the enemy even having a chance to respond to their presence. Even Private Sayles would have had to be impressed by the Major now despite the past.

    At first Earl was a flood of emotion. The first was fear that she would turn on them next and kill them. The second was jealousy that Major Young was that good of a shot and managed to take down her replica with a single shot. Then came concern that the machine would jump back up and take them all out in a hail of gunfire like old Cowboy and Indian movies. He’d heard somewhere that after two minutes if it was getting back up it would. Inside his head he counted down the time and when he reached the two minutes the enemy machine still didn’t move.

    “What a shot!” Yelled Wise in shock. “You killed it!”

    “I thought that we talked about that,” said Major Young.

    Sayles remained quiet, “We need to take it to Connor and see what he and Dyson can find out from it.”

    “I bet you’re fun at parties,” mumbled Earl Wise.

    When they heard the shot from the Plasma Rifle they double timed it to the door to the Emerald City. Sumner took position right in front of the door with Timms and the Private on both sides of him. They pointed their guns down the other corridor knowing that their own was clear. The machine had to be down that way and if it came for them they’d be ready. The tension was so thick that it could be carved with a knife. Each of them expected for the machine to come around that corner at any second with weapon firing. Instead they were surprised by what they saw.

    Wise came first dragging the dead weight of the hyperalloy combat chassis behind him. Sayles was helping him by pulling the arm. Major Young walked behind cradling the gun that she’d used to kill the metal monster. The Sergeant checked instinctively the make sure that it was Major Young carrying the gun and was relieved to see the bracelet on her wrist. For all he knew it was the monster having replaced her.

    Sayles pressed the button for General Connor calling him to them. They had their prize.

    Corporal Decker lay in the ductwork watching the scene below. He kept the plasma rifle he’d gotten from Chewie in hand and was scanning the area for any further risks to the situation. They’d pulled it off and hadn’t needed his help at all. Part of him was relieved while the other was a little bit jealous that he hadn’t been called upon to serve. Mostly though he was glad it was over.

    All except one thing. He removed the power cell from the rifle and swapped it out for the one from the invasion of Cheyenne Mountain. One shot remained in the weapon and it was destined for Connor. Sayles was kind enough to call him out. First came Danny Dyson then the beautiful General Kate Mason. The last was Connor himself who stood there watching as they brought him the machine. Allison was there too and watched him not with love, not with any emotion. The Major ran to Connor.

    As Decker watched them he knew it was all a lie. Connor was not their savior, no one was, it was all a lie. He pointed the rifle and then pulled the trigger. The shot of a plasma pistol rang through the air.

    Charles Fischer stood outside the observation window with two of the Series 888 battle droids flanking him. It had been some time since they lost connection to the battle units sent to infiltrate the Connor Camp and finally kill the rebel General. While a blackout was expected for a time, they never expected it to be this long. Stone and the rest were insistent that this was perfectly normal, but Fischer had known better. They weren’t ready for this mission. None of them were.

    Not that it would be his problem anymore after today. Skynet had given him new orders. He was to go back in through time and upload a virus into the defense computers. It wasn’t anything new. Actually he had known about this mission from before Skynet was born. It was destiny.

    But there was one last thing that he had to do. Sliding his card into the reader terminal he stepped inside the observation room with a fake smile plastered on his face. In the center of the room the table lifted upward and displayed its occupant to him. Charles set aside the clipboard.

    “And how are we today, Mister Wise?”

  6. nx1701g

    nx1701g Admiral Admiral

    Jun 26, 2001
    2001 - 2016
    I hope that everyone enjoyed my 75 page (39,465 word) short story. I spent a lot of time working on it and I hope that you like what you saw. I'm happy to answer any questions that you may have about it. Please feel free to post them as well as thoughts about the story.
  7. Tim

    Tim Vice Admiral Admiral

    Mar 25, 2005
    Red Sox Nation
    Great work, but I have to admit that I don't understand the ending. I must be stuck in a causality loop. ;)
  8. nx1701g

    nx1701g Admiral Admiral

    Jun 26, 2001
    2001 - 2016
    ^ The ending was meant to be deliberately vague.

    - Cameron killed John Connor
    - Allison Young was not disabled only in hibernation
    - John shot Cameron
    - Decker shot Connor
    - Decker shot himself
    - Earl shot Connor

    Clues were scattered throughout the Earl Wise posts about him being different. In his second appearance his body was completely repaired of all injuries and scars. Fischer noted in one section Project Angel and their attempts to transfer a human consciousness into a cybernetic organism. Fischer referred to Earl as special in his conversation with Cameron.

    Earl Wise was replaced by the 900 Series Terminator that captured him. The real Earl Wise is dead.
  9. zephramc

    zephramc Commodore Commodore

    May 13, 2001
    Didn't catch on to the the Earl Wise thing. Great job NX! So I take it that Earl Wise, or his consciousness rather, didn't even realize he was a machine?
  10. nx1701g

    nx1701g Admiral Admiral

    Jun 26, 2001
    2001 - 2016
    No he didn't. As far as he knew he was a living, breathing human being. Similar to Boomer on Battlestar Galactica in Season One or the Final Five.

    If I do do another story I think I may focus on Wise entirely and use new characters for the bulk of the story. I had two plans when I initially wrote the storyline and, if I had more time, I was going to incorporate them both as major players and keep them separated longer. Due to time constraints I knocked it down to only the main story about Cameron.

    I won't detail the original storyline because it was about Wise's discovery of his new self. If I do continue that'll become the focus.
  11. nx1701g

    nx1701g Admiral Admiral

    Jun 26, 2001
    2001 - 2016
    A question that was asked of me on TerminatorFiles:

    How did I come up with the name C715.P?

    That was creative on my part. In some Terminator fiction the different terminators are assigned an identification transponder code.

    For Cameron, for example, I came up with her ID as

    715 (early production number for Cameron from Fox posters)

    Also did anyone notice that I didn't use the word Terminator in the actual story?
  12. Tim

    Tim Vice Admiral Admiral

    Mar 25, 2005
    Red Sox Nation
    Neither did I. I probably should have sat down and read the whole story at once to pick up on the clues and nuances.

    Great job, nx. You definitely put a lot of thought and effort into this and have helped fill the gap before the next TV installment. :techman:
  13. nx1701g

    nx1701g Admiral Admiral

    Jun 26, 2001
    2001 - 2016
    I thank everyone for their comments. I appreciate each of them.

    I'm considering doing another one. With time constraints though I think that the chapters would be more spread out than they currently were (at most I think I skipped two days). I may do the storyline I outlined about Earl finding out his secret, but I'm weighing my options. I'm also considering a Derek Reese story.
  14. Tim

    Tim Vice Admiral Admiral

    Mar 25, 2005
    Red Sox Nation
    I'd be interested in your take on his (presumed) interrogation by Cameron to the strains of Chopin.
  15. nx1701g

    nx1701g Admiral Admiral

    Jun 26, 2001
    2001 - 2016
    I would do that but the producers claim they'll be revisiting that this season. I do have my own ideas about what was happening - I implied them in a Fischer post - but I wouldn't want to step on the producers toes.

    Plus there is a drawback to a Derek Reese story. Derek reminds me almost perfectly of my older brother. They even look alike and have the same tattoos.
  16. Tim

    Tim Vice Admiral Admiral

    Mar 25, 2005
    Red Sox Nation
    I see what you mean; those are good enough reasons to table the Derek Reese story. The Earl Wise story sounds interesting nonetheless, so I'd certainly read something in that vein. :)
  17. nx1701g

    nx1701g Admiral Admiral

    Jun 26, 2001
    2001 - 2016
    I've been giving it some thought and I think that I may continue on with this series after all. Entries won't be as often as they were with Identity Crisis (that was a hint on the storyline too) but I plan for at least two uploads a week. I'll be using more original characters rather than screen established ones and I'll reveal the fate of Catherine Luna and Sidney Fields too (the only two I didn't account for other than a Triple Eight learning how sex can be an interrogation technique).
  18. Tim

    Tim Vice Admiral Admiral

    Mar 25, 2005
    Red Sox Nation
    I'd enjoy this as well. I would prefer to see some more closure instead of the ambiguous ending (which seems more like a cliffhanger, personally).
  19. nx1701g

    nx1701g Admiral Admiral

    Jun 26, 2001
    2001 - 2016
    ^ That was intentional :). I wanted people to interpret the ending in their own way.
  20. Tim

    Tim Vice Admiral Admiral

    Mar 25, 2005
    Red Sox Nation
    Bah, I want resolution. Resolution! ;)