The Son of SkyNET stood outside bathed in the downpour, white lightening crackling all around him. He had no knowledge of this place - his father had either chosen to send him without any or had none to give. What lay within those cloistered halls was a mystery. Who would he find? What would they encounter? There was anticipation, but also caution.

The other machines would go first. He could monitor them from here, hearing their thoughts and seeing through their eyes. They would find the resistance, and they would find John Connor.

The machines identified several entrances into the structure. There was one to the north that led inward and upward, beyond that their sensors didn't penetrate. The more inviting entrance was to the south. It was wide open, broad where they could use their numbers to their advantage. Still he knew that these humans weren't foolish. They would defend themselves.

The first terminators entered the north hallway just a little after eight o'clock. They entered one at a time, rifles drawn and slowly made their way into the labyrinth. Each one communicated with the other, and then back to the commander outside. He saw what they saw, each and every one of them. Their thoughts were perfectly synchronized, each one mimicking what others nearby were thinking.

They entered to the south in a loose line, marching through twenty years of scattered debris and crumbling concrete. The only thing that moved were the chrome reflections in puddles of runoff, the only sound was a million drops of rain on steel and glass. At the far end of the hangar, the Rook waited.

Along the north entrance, perhaps two dozen machines had entered the hallway one after the other. The line came to a 'T' intersection where one path led to the right, turning south. The other path went ahead a few meters and then up. There was a door as well, and in this place every door must be opened. The first terminator there pulled on the handle but noticed that it would have to apply more force. Irrelevant, the weld was minor and unsound. He ripped the door off its hinges only to find...

A wall? The door had been secured to the wall by crudely driven bolts and a haphazard metal frame, doubtlessly salvaged from somewhere else. It went nowhere. What it failed to notice was the hair like strand of wire still attached to the wall. It snapped without a sound.

(*****)

James called the clean room his base of operations. This would be his last command and as he laid in wait he hoped that his faith and preparation would weight favorably against all mistakes. He loved his men, every last one of them, even the ones that were a critical pain in the ass.

Derrick Reese. "God help him." He whispered this into his palms.

"What was that?" John asked.

James shook his head. "Wasn't anything, just hoping for the best."

The answer was anything but convincing but John didn't push it. Instead he watched Kyle pace the room, running circles around them. He looked at Alison and sometimes made eye contact with her. They were getting so close. If he'd been keeping track he would have known that right about the time the endo ripped the decoy door off its hinges the clock struck eight. He began his seventh night in the wasteland.

The radio on the table crackled. "James are you there?" It was John Henry.

"Yeah go ahead."

The machine was perched on the TDE platform high above them, out of earshot. "We need to begin charging the displacement circuits. The lights will dim for a moment."

"Go for it." James said.

John Henry took the industrial switch in his hand. He meant to throw it but felt the need to do something else. He'd checked everything at least twice - the more delicate systems he had looked over at least a half dozen times. He knew the systems, the wiring, the diagrams and the controls. Still when he reached his hand for the lever something thick within him stayed his hand.

"General?" He said.

James dialed in again. "What's the hold up?"

"Could you send John up here? I need to speak with him."

James looked at the boy in mock wonder. "You're needed." He thumbed the radio again. "John's on his way."

John heaved himself up the last flight of steps. Who the hell had built this thing? The stairs were so god damned narrow and rickety he felt like the slightest insult to the structure would cause him to plummet into the shadows. That thing still gave him chills - you couldn't see the bottom. Utterly convinced he was looking at a hole that reached to the center of the earth he tossed a stone in. It had a bottom; it was just far, far away.

"What can I help you with? Where'd Three go?" John asked, looking around.

"He went to finish the aperture. He should be done soon." John Henry told him. "John I am having some trouble with this switch. It will begin the charging of the TDE, effectively turning the machine on for the first time."

John turned his head. "Well, I guess I can take a look at it but I'm sure I'm not going to see anything you missed. You've been working on this thing a long time, I don't think you'd miss anything."

"That isn't my concern. I am nearly certain everything is in order. I called for you because I believe the problem is of a more sensitive nature."

"More sensitive...than time travel." He said, flatly.

"Yes. You see, I am sure I can physically turn the machine on but every time I reach for the mechanism I have this strange desire to not turn it on, as if something inside me is controlling my actions."

"Sounds like you're nervous."

"Do you think so?" He raised his eyebrows making a face that John thought was uncharacteristic for a machine. It was the expression of an innocent discovering something for the first time. "How do you deal with it?"

"Well, with everyone it's different. I could do this for you if you want."

The General's voice came over the radio. "Whatever you guys are talking about up there get it done quick, we've got company."

"Oh crap." John breathed out. He knew they were coming but he still didn't feel ready.

"Are you nervous now?"

John nodded. "Hell yes I'm nervous."

"Do you deal with it by using vulgar language? Does that fucking help?"

John ran his palm over his face. "Well, it never hurt. Look, just count to five then do it, okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean put your hand here and count to five." John lifted up the machines hand and placed it on the throw-switch. "Now count up from one to five and when you get to five just do it."

John Henry nodded again as if this were some sort of revelation. "One, two, three, four, five." He threw the switch and the lights flickered and dimmed, casting them in darkness for a few seconds before coming back to life. He looked down at the console to make sure everything was readying out as nominal.

"Holy shit, it works!" He said.

"Okay, I think that's enough coarse language for one night. Come on." John pulled him up and started back to the clean room.

Alison watched wide-eyed as they came in. "One of the alarms in the north hallway just went off."

"There are endoskeletons moving through the north hallway. A larger force is advancing on the Rook." Catherine said.

John only saw the stern face of the General as he resigned himself to this last combat. He didn't seem to notice them until the last moment when he looked out of the corner of his eye and gave the order to attack.

"Mister Reese, you may fire." He clicked off the radio.

In the claustrophobic embrace of concrete and ice water, all hell broke loose.

(*****)

Derrick lay prone with a salvaged endorifle butted against his shoulder. They'd rigged it to a chain of power cells and he watched the green counter as sweat rolled into his eyes. Now it was full green which would last him at least a few minutes of full out return-fire. He checked to make sure his old standby was at his hip. Somewhere behind him Gabriel did his quiet work, pinning the charges to the wet wall. He heard the General over his radio just as the first endo began to ascend the steps.

What happened next caught no one by surprise; the ferocity of close combat isn't the place for those who have not been properly introduced to its fire and noise. The hallway lit up as if transmuting silence and shadow into chaos and hellfire. Derrick didn't hear the sound of his rifle so much as he felt it shake him. One hand on the trigger, one hand over the stock he saw the first target go down in the opening salvo. It was still a good twenty meters away but he swore to god its eyes popped out of its sockets. That felt fucking good.

One heard the order as well and though he lacked his organic counterparts' visceral approach to combat, he had a rifle too. His was much larger at 230 millimeters and he assumed that it would be more effective. One was correct.

The Rook emerged from its predatory crouch, lights beaming off every surface as the diesel engine roared to life. The first round exploded from the cannon, biting into the lip of the concrete at the far end of the artificial cavern. The concrete flew apart underneath a squad of machines, hurling them through the air.

As quickly as the aging mechanisms would allow, One brought the cannon over and down several degrees for another shot. He aimed from the hip, watching the barrel and gauging timing with his own internal circuitry. The Rook reloaded every fifteen seconds and as soon as the breach was closed the firing hammer slammed into the cartridge. The fireball emerged from the target, so close the flames from the barrel licked the floor. Hyperalloy flew through the air and One knew he had fulfilled his terrible promise - wreak havoc upon the enemy. The return fire came in from a dozen angles, digging holes into the armor of the behemoth and leaving blazing marks on its belly and flanks. Another round slid into the firing chamber, and another handful of endoskeletons were reduced to semi-molten slag.

Everyone in the command post could feel the Rook as it shook the earth. With each round, dust would flutter from the ceiling. After each shot, Alison would count down from fifteen. As long as the Rook could hold them outside the machine were outside as well. The steel door dominated her vision, far too close and far too thin.

Another shot from up above sent the dust playing through shards of light. Twelve shots left.

Derrick felt the heat rising up from the rifle but refused to allay his assault. The endoskeletons down the hallway were beginning to return fire in earnest, displacing concrete and turning it into shrapnel that whizzed around him. His position was protected and to them he was only a sliver over the top of the steps. Still, something coppery and slick touched his lips.

Gabriel was nearly finished. He harnessed the detonator wire to the battery, finally granting the device voltage. The count clock flickered to life reading all zeros. With the package secure to the wall, all of the destructive force would be driven into the concrete. If his analysis of the structure was even somewhat accurate the concrete would be vaporized along two fault points. The pressure would do the rest of the work.

He strung the detonation cord back through the maze of rooms, all the while listening to the chaos in the hallway. When the sound of Derricks rifle suddenly stopped Gabriel hesitated for only a moment before dropping the detonation cord to the ground.

The endo rifle had completely seized. When the barrel went red-hot, Derrick thought he could squeeze off a few more shots. He held down the trigger and was greeted with the alarming sound of relays popping and the smell of burning rubber.

He struggled to find his other rifle somewhere behind him, all the while watching down the hall. They advanced quickly, stepping over the bodies of the fallen metal soldiers. Derrick reached down and found the trigger guard just as the first one crested the top of the steps. It took aim, not at him but at something over his head.

There was the crash of automatic weapons, the sound of real guns going off. Derrick rolled to one side and finally found the trigger. He saw Gabriel covering his escape, standing tall as plasma fire rained around him. In just the moment Derrick saw him he was hit once, then again in the torso and face. Gabriel dropped down but didn't cease firing until Derrick was in the adjoining room.

Gabriel wasn't down but he was hit. His HUD flashed as one of the power cells in his chest was disrupted. It was dead - he was running on auxiliary. The shot to his face had completely eradicated a fair portion of the organic covering John had taken such care in repairing. He followed Derrick into the adjoining room with a noticeable limp.

"Are you ready Derrick?"

"Let's get this over with, I'm sick of waiting."

Gabriel nodded and pulled the detonation cord up to his lap. "If you happen to survive the explosion, the best route of exit will be out the puncture once the flooding has filled the room. We are approximately sixty feet below the surface of the water here."

The thought of survival hadn't crossed his mind and for a split second the idea of not dying filled him with fear. The feeling vanished just as quickly. Derrick picked up his radio and spoke as loudly and clearly into it as he could. "General we're blowing the dam! Good luck." For everyone, he thought.

The terminator wasted no time. Fourteen volts of DC went into the shaped charges, setting off a chain of chemical reactions that dissolved everything around them into heat and energy. There was no question as to success - the water came pouring in only a split second later in a wall eight feet high and twice as long.

Derrick took in a deep breath and grasped for something to hold on to. When the water hit him he thought he might pass out. It touched him with a thousand blades of ice that dug under his skin, cramming so much interference into his brain that he swore none of his other senses were working. He just felt the cold gripping him, squeezing the air out of his lungs.

The room filled quickly and soon water was flowing in a torrent down the north hallway, out into the open spaces beyond the dam. A few endoskeletons were able to hold on, but even their great strength was challenged against the tidal rush. One by one they were broken free and washed out into the floodplain.

Derrick sputtered as he tried to regain control of his body. "Oh Jesus this is cold...Jesus Jesus Jesus we've got to get out of here." The water was up to his neck now, and slowly rising. Soon the room would be filled and then it would all be over.

"Move along the wall! Hold on to me." Gabriel said.

Derrick did as he was told, grabbing hold of the cyborg. He tried to help but found the water numbing him, turning his digits into mush. "I think I'm going to let go Gabriel! Shit..." His head bumped along the ceiling now and his ears popped. He was going to drown.

Derrick was too cold to panic and he felt whatever raw energy he had built up in the firefight begin to slip away from him.

"Gabriel! Gabriel I'm slipping." He cried out just over the water. Only a few inches of headroom left.

Gabriel reached around to take hold of him but as his hand grasped where Derrick Reese should have been there was nothing. He had let go, just like that. Gabriel ducked under the water only to see Derrick being whisked away by the icy current, vanishing from his sight forever.

For Derrick the world went dark. One moment he was gripping onto Gabriel, holding as tightly as he could and the next he was underwater, being turned every which way along a long corridor. The ice water had lost its bite, but his body didn't feel anything anymore. Derrick felt consciousness begin to fade from him. His lungs were begging for oxygen, for just a little taste of air. It was no use. He let his eyes close and the air spilled from his lungs.

But his life didn't end there. Derrick felt a sharp pain on his head, and then felt his arm twist underneath him as it brushed against something hard and immobile. He snapped his eyes open as he felt like he was rolling along something, like being tossed by the surf. Soon he came to rest. He was still cold, but by some magic there was air here.

He didn't lift his head, not until he was certain he was on solid ground. Derrick tried to shake sensation back into his limbs but just couldn't get warm. When he did look around he nearly wished he hadn't.

He was in the valley again, and he wasn't alone. All around him, machines that had taken a similar trip as he were rising up from the sandy earth. They regarded him with a passive curiosity. None of them moved to him, none of them lifted so much as a rifle at him. God knows in his state it wouldn't have taken much.

They began to move away, to the south entrance. There would be no returning the way they came, the north entrance was blocked. They'd done it. Derrick let out a sign of relief.

"You are Derrick Reese."

Derrick simply could not have heard what he just heard. He thought he heard...a voice? Did he?

He lifted his head and saw the machines moving away from him, but one figure remained. Derrick couldn't see his face but like so many unwelcome guests Derrick knew that this was trouble.

He lifted himself to his feet, stumbling a little bit before settled for coming to his haunches. Then, to his great surprise he felt a hand on his arm lifting him up and gently settling him on his feet.

"You are Derrick Reese, are you not?"

He found himself staring into the face of a young man with striking, pale features. He had hair that must have been bleach white with skin like porcelain.

"Yeah, that's me."

"I've heard so much about you Derrick. To be honest I am pleased we meet this way. Did you know that you are the first human I have ever met?" His voice was pleasant if not for the dead look in his eyes, and the casual smile on his lips.

"Oh really? You must not get out much." He had his hands on his hips now, reflecting as well as his mind would allow on his next move. He had only one option. His sidearm was still stuffed in his belt. It would still fire, but could he draw in time? He was surrounded by machines.

"You are very funny, we didn't know that. We always thought Kyle was the more amusing brother." The strange man said.

The mention of his brother's name caused his head to shift upward. Derrick knew this was metal he was looking at but what kind of metal was another story. He'd never met a machine that wasn't to have a chat with him before it killed him. The whole idea put him on edge.

"What do you know about Kyle? Just who the hell are you?" He tried to draw out the conversation, to reach the perfect timing for his shot. He would have to kill with the first shot. Derrick knew in his heart of hearts that though there were a thousand terminators on this battlefield this one - this thing he was looking at - was far more dangerous than any of them.

"We know more than you could imagine. We know that Kyle Reese is your brother, younger by several years. We know that his current mate is Alison Young and we know that in another time line he is the father of John Connor."

Derrick could literally feel the world stop.

"What did you say?"

The machines smile began to widen. "You didn't know? In retrospect that may have been the best choice, not to tell you."

"What? Not to tell me what, that Kyle is John Connors father…" What had began as a yell faded into a whisper. Derrick closed his eyes and for the first time he saw the puzzle as it should have been, the final missing piece falling into place that made the rest of the world fall into focus.

"Strange isn't it? Time and space, timelines and destinies seem to lose their meaning in the grand scheme of the universe. John Connor knew Derrick Reese in 2009 – he was a soldier like you. You have always been Derrick, a warrior. That Derrick died at Johns behest."

The words swam in his head. Derrick saw himself become part of a much larger game, a man moving towards an empty space on the board. He was surrounded by enemy pieces – knights and bishops and before him was the King.

In a flash he reached into his belt and pulled the piton out, firing as soon as his arm was straight. It was a clean shot, not perfect but it was close enough. Derrick heard the sound of bullets on metal and saw his heard jerk backwards. He'd killed the fucking thing.

But whatever it was didn't die.

Derrick saw its face and noticed that where there should have been chrome there was only a streak of black metal, like obsidian, below his skin.

"That simply will not do Mister Reese." He said, as calmly and as smoothly as if nothing had happened.

Derrick pumped five more rounds into its chest, each one impacting right on target, each one leaving a smoking hole in his skin and clothes.

Still, it would not yield.

"Do you think of yourself as important Derrick? Do you think that you can win this war on your own? The only man left who may stand a chance is in that dam and his name is John Connor. I am here for him, the rest of your companions will die. John will too, but not until I have pulled every last shard of sanity from him."

Derrick knew he was out of options. The gun left superficial scars, and he was out of bullets. He stood in the rain with his arm still outstretched, as if he could kill with just the thought of the act. His hand began to shake and this time it wasn't from the cold.

"So why don't you just get it over with then? Why don't you just kill me and get it over with!" He threw the gun to the ground and with all his pent up rage and hatred he sprung forward, crossing the small space between them with his hands outstretched.

Derrick died with fire in his eyes. As he reached for the machines neck, willing to press every ounce of strength into his hands and fingers he felt a great pressure in his chest. Looking down he saw its arm, slowly withdrawing, coated in blood. He staggered and fell backwards as he felt the life rush from him in spurts. When he next looked up he saw the face of the enemy still smiling down at him, the rain beginning to abate overhead. Soon, those images too faded and the world went dark.

(*****)

The Rook was slowly bleeding to death. A single shot did nothing to wound it but compounded a thousand times the machine had been compromised. Still, it could move.

One had run out of ammunition long ago and now turned to using the Rook as a battering ram, plunging it across the ruined concrete deck to smash anything in its path. Two of its legs were frozen in place, the hydraulic lines feeding them cut off. The diesel fuel tank had been punctured and now all that remained of its energy was contained in redundant banks of capacitors.

As the energy in these reserve banks began to fade, One realized he had no other choice. He turned the Rook back towards the south entrance and sent the machine into a controlled crash. It skidded across the floor, sparks flying in every direction until it crashed into the doorway, providing a temporary seal. Some had already gotten through though and he knew that they were now within the dam, making their way down to the foundation level. Just how many had breached the defense was impossible to know and he had not noticed the lone figure with the crimson hand that slipped by only seconds before.

Inside the dam the south hallway had become the front line. Machines were everywhere in varying degrees of functionality. Te booby traps set along the hallway were doing their job, slowing them down and denting their numbers but still they came.

Catherine watched from her vantage point, sitting idly by as a piece of inert scrap until she saw an opportunity to strike. She unwound herself and her liquid knife slashed through another endocranial unit, severing the chip from the driving motors. She morphed again as she heard other machines rushing to her position.

She made her way along the floor, and when she was sure she hadn't been seen she looped through a ventilation duct to another less crowded section of the structure. The Rook had ceased firing some time ago and she heard a titanic crash up above. There were already machines in the structure and they were making their way slowly downward towards the TDE. Her radio was non-functional - a single blast from an endo rifle had cut off her communications. She still had a mission - get the aperture so they could get the hell out of here.

The machine room was a distance off the beaten path and for a moment she thought it had not been discovered. When she lowered herself into the room she realized the truth - Three had been cut cleanly in two, his body now a tangled wreck against the wall. Scorch marks from heavy weapons fire filled the walls. The aperture was nowhere to be seen.

"This could be a problem." She said to herself.

The machinery had been devastated. Nothing here remained functional - if the device had been taken she must get it back. If it had been destroyed their mission may very well end here.

Her matrix rippled, following a wave of anxiety that flowed over her. How could they have known what it was? Did they know what John Henry was planning? She put all of her resources to thinking, turning the problem over again and again in her mind.

This room had nothing she needed. She would leave it behind and go...where? She didn't know. John Henry might think of something. She turned to go and then stopped in her tracks.

"Hello Catherine Weaver."

The voice called Catherine to attention. It had perfect pitch and tone - she knew this was a machine. Whatever it was it had snuck up on her, hidden beneath the level of her perception. She would have thought it was impossible but when she saw the small, dimpled ball in his hand she knew he had been there all along.

"My father told me much about you. He doesn't know what you are planning, but I have come to understand it." He tossed the ball up in the air and in an instant leveled his arm at her head. She had only a moment to understand what he was doing. She caught up, morphing quickly to dodge the energy that emerged from his forearm.

She felt the bolt pass near her matrix and understood its purpose. A portion of her matrix lagged behind and the bolt passed right through it. There was no displacement, no apparent physical damage and when it hit the wall it simply fizzled out with a pop!

The sliver of her matrix that had been caught in the line of fire fell to the ground and shattered. It had been rendered inert.

All of this happened in the time the ball took to reach its apex and begin to fall again. Catherine coiled up and sprung through the air, feeling this machine dig its fingers into her. She felt her body begin to lose cohesion and recoiled just in time, catching the aperture and then rushing down the hallway.

The Son didn't bother to turn and give chase. He would have her soon enough, and the others as well. His father had told him to work the humans, to get inside their heads. Catherine Weaver was another story. His father didn't give him instructions regarding her but instead gave him an emotion - pure, seething rage. He felt it whenever he looked at her.

With the aperture in hand she made her way through the hallways and down the stairwells . They could no longer stay here, that much she was sure of. If it were just machines she could handle them but whatever she had just encountered was dangerous, malicious. She could not suppress another ripple of fear that worked its way through her - after so long of being online she had developed rudimentary emotions. Suddenly she wished to be free of them. She knew if that thing caught up with her again she would be free of much more than that.

The machines were in the foundation level. Catherine knew they would find their way to the TDE chamber sooner rather than later, and feeling that their assault was an inevitability she wasted no time making for the door.

"We have a problem James." She reformed in the clean room in her battle fatigues and plucked a rifle from the table. "There's something here that I haven't anticipated."

"Tell me something we don't already know." James said.

Catherine approached them. "There is someone in the dam far more dangerous than any ordinary machine. We have to make the jump now, we cannot wait."

"You ain't going anywhere." Kyle said.

"Excuse me?"

James was loading himself with ammunition for his rifle and sidearm. He packed all they had to his massive frame. "They've cut off the power from the turbines. We can't charge the TDE for a displacement."

Catherine measured the situation carefully before handing the aperture to John. "Take this to John Henry. He will install it and then TDE will be ready. I'll go take care of the generators."

"No, Catherine. I'll go, you stay. You need to get back to 2009. Reese and I will go, we'll handle it."

"General I must insist. You have no idea what's waiting outside those doors. When I retrieved the aperture from Three he had been destroyed. There was a machine there, but not just any machine. He knew my name."

This caught the Generals attention. "And what did you do with him?"

Catherine narrowed her eyes. "The only thing I could do. He has some kind of weapon capable of destabilizing my matrix. I retreated and brought the aperture back here."

The General chewed this over in his mind and decided his first plan was still the best. "Look, we still have to get the generators operational. No telling what they did with them. Hopefully they aren't completely offline. You stay here with John and John Henry, I'll take care of the -"

His voice was cut off by the sound of hammering on the steel door. They'd been found.

"Looks like we aren't going anywhere. We need other options." Catherine said.

(*****)

The turbine hangar was quiet now, save for the soft sound of rain and a slight breeze. The Rook sat smoking in ruin, a burned out husk on steel that truly had been the last of its kind. The end came in a tremendous fireball that filled the cavern with smoke and light and then dissipated, leaving only ruin behind.

One was offline. For how long, he didn't know but when he saw his HUD flicker on he knew that he was damaged. His CPU was intact and his power systems were functional, but part of his endoskeleton had been damaged. The right arm was illuminated in his command diagram.

RIGHT SHOULDER ARTICULATION POINT COMPROMISED: DISENGAGE

AXIAL FRAME COMPROMISED: SEEK REPAIR

OCULAR SENSORS DAMAGED: SEEK REPLACEMENT

When the Rook went up, chunks of steel and concrete flew in every direction. One found himself under one such slab. He had been thrown against the wall with great force. The concrete behind him was cracked. His right arm hung uselessly at his side, and there was a laundry list of damage to his primary systems. Yet, he remained essentially functional.

With some effort he was able to disengage his right arm. Even one handed he was still quite dangerous, but with the Rook gone his directive required him to ascertain a new mission profile. With a little more seasoning, or a little more time in the field he may have been able to come up with a plan of action himself. As it was he required input.

His internal radio was still functional. "This is unit designation One request mission status from General Ellison."

No reply.

One searched for a way down to the lower level of the hangar. The Rook had destroyed most of the crane equipment along with any conventional means of descent. One found an avenue downward along a broken 'I' beam. He slid along it until it dropped him, a gentle fall of five meters instead of fifteen.

"One was that you? Come in!" It wasn't the General. This sounded like the Connor boy, and in addition to his voice One could hear automatic weapons fire in the background.

"Affirmative Connor. I am still functional. I will proceed to your location to assist."

"Negative on that. We're holding them off but we don't know how much longer we'll be able to keep them outside. They've done something to the generators, we're not getting any power for the TDE. Can you make your way to the power station and see what's going on?" Johns voice was nearly drowned out by the crackle of gunshots, but One understood.

"Affirmative. I will remedy the situation if I can. One out."

(*****)

They were holding them alright, but only just. The steel door lay smoking in a corner, blown off its hinges by a bust of plasma. The first few endos had plowed through the breach and opened fire on anything that moved. Alison was ready for them and took cover along the cavern wall, occasionally poking out to return fire. Kyle was in the clean room trying to stay alive. Most of the fire coming from the door was concentrated near his position. He felt the heat off the plasma arcs and watched as the temporary command center was reduced to rubble.

The two Johns were high above on the TDE platform. John Henry worked quickly, securing the aperture within the focusing chamber. The task was quick and once he was done he handed out instructions to his human companion.

"John, I need to instruct you on the guidance of the TDE. You and Cameron will jump first." His voice rose above the noise below.

"Alright, show me!"

"These are the temporal coordinates, input here as a function of date relative to the current time. With my augmentations the device should be accurate to a date within ten days of your target arrival time, but the discrepancy could be somewhat smaller or larger. That means that even if we set out to arrive on the same date, we may not arrive together."

"I've got it, that won't be a problem! What about this?" He motioned towards the additional control surfaces that John Henry had constructed.

"These allow us to point to a specific location in three dimensional space relative to our current location. This also has a marginal degree of accuracy but should get us close to the basement of Ziera corporation."

John simply nodded at this, his mind already working through his own set of calculations. "The replicator is probably about finished with Cameron. I need to get her up here!"

"I understand. I will prep the TDE and await your return."

John shook his head. "No, I can handle this, I think I understand it. Get down there and help them! We need cover fire if we're going to hold out long enough to make this work."

John Henry hesitated. "Are you certain? I can control the machine much more finely than you can!"

"Look, I can handle this okay?" He said. "Well, wait a sec. What date are you going back to?"

"I plan to arrive a few days after we left. If we're on target we should be gone only a week, it will be like we were on a short trip!"

"Wonderful!" John said, enthusiastically. "But before we go anywhere we have to get those generators online. If we can't this whole thing will just be academic!"

"I agree. I will assist James and the others." He nearly got up the leave before turning to John one more time. "We may not see one another for a few days after this. Good luck John, and I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"About Cameron. I'm sorry for what has happened to her."

John waved him off. "It isn't over yet John. Now go!"

Down below there was a sudden crescendo of gunfire and the sound of men calling out to one another. John couldn't make out what was happening through the smoke. He had to hope the TDE would come online, that One would be able to do whatever needed to be done to get them the hell out of here. He ran down the stairs to fetch his precious cargo.

At the bottom of the steps, several endoskeletons had rushed through the door and broken into the chamber. James was locked with one of them in close combat while Alison took careful aim and downed one more, then dove back into her cover to reload. John saw another heading into the clean room. Kyle was in there, along with Cameron.

John shouldered his rifle and followed the endo in, practically running blind into the room. Kyle scrambled along the floor on his back as the endoskeleton advanced. John fired into the back of its head until it dropped twitching to the floor.

"Thanks John!"

"No sweat. Look -" He bent down to check on the bio-replicator. The clock read all zeros. "I need to get Cameron up to the TDE, do you think you can give me a little cover?"

Kyle opened his hand. "I can but I need some ammo. I'm out. Where is Alison? I didn't see her."

John motioned over his shoulder. "Along the south wall, she's got good cover over there. Go on, I'll be fine!" He shooed Kyle away, still not comfortable with revealing Cameron to anyone.

Kyle left him with a nod and a wave after John handed over the last of his ammo. All he had left was what remained in his rifle - maybe twenty rounds if he counted right. He knew he couldn't rely on having enough for a sustained encounter. That didn't matter, what he needed to do now was ascend the steps to the TDE. He struggled with the lid of the replicator, finally prying it free.

Cameron was there, fully redressed in synthetic flesh and nude. John threw the sheet over her, wrapping it around her legs and arms as quickly as he could. He felt slightly alarmed at the prospect of having to carry her - Gabriel had done this before. What if he couldn't move her?

He braced himself and drove all of his strength into his legs. He lifted as if his life depended on it, and Cameron literally flew up into his arms. She was surprisingly light - still, she had the weight of a person but not the crushing weight of coltan alloy he had expected. For a moment he was concerned that something was wrong but she looked fine. No, she looked perfect. He pulled her cheek to his. It was cold. He flicked his pocket just to be sure the chip was there. It was.

"Let's get the hell out of here Cam!" He said.

(*****)

One made his way into the power station. He knew he was not alone - several of the doors had been opened. A few endoskeletons lay in fractured heaps, victims of his allies traps. They were mostly eight hundred series chassis with a few six-hundreds thrown in for good measure. He moved forward slowly, keenly aware of his damaged state. He had one arm and no rifle, but he was still a terminator.

There were three machines standing guard inside. One saw the problem immediately - the master control circuit had been completely severed. Repairing it would be quick work if he could do it unmolested but the three machines were big. The extra heft on their shoulders and arms meant only one thing.

Eight-fifties.

The situation was tactically difficult. He had nothing to fight them with, and they were all armed with the standard infantry endorifle. One began to think, jumping from one scenario to another as he tried to come up with the fastest solution to his problem.

The room served as a hub for high-energy transformers and shunted a quarter million volts into high tension power lines that led out into the world. Those had long since been destroyed, but the terminals were still in place. Heavy cabling hung from the ceiling, thick like jungle vines, much of it charged with high voltage. One began to build a plan.

The three machines were all standing high above the floor on a grated platform, each one scanning the bay for motion. One could avoid them, he knew their limitations. If he was seen by them then this would not work, he had to be silent, more cunning than brute force. He made his way to the far end of the bay where the high-voltage terminals emerged from the tangled mess. He looped a length of wire around the base of the platform as he walked by being very careful not to be seen.

He wasn't.

The platform and those metal soldiers on it were now ground, and One had several places from which to deal high voltage. However, being metal himself was a slight disadvantage. He could just as easily blow himself up and took this into account as he carefully looped lengths of cable around three of the high voltage terminals. The cables were long and lightweight, just enough to deliver what he needed. A few hundred volts would immobilize a machine for a short time, give it a quarter million and the insulation mechanisms within the chassis would be overwhelmed. They would fuse.

He salvaged a few long metal rods from the wreckage as well. They were hardly ideal projectiles but from this range they would be sufficient. They didn't have to penetrate their targets, they merely had to touch them. He tied off the lances to his three lengths of cable, taking great care not to ground himself lest he become part of the scenery.

Finished, he took the first lance in his hand and found its balance. It would fly somewhat straight, hooking a little to the right. He lifted it over his shoulder, and like a reflection of hunters long since past loosed it over his shoulder in a high arc.

The cable unspooled behind him and the bolt flew true, striking the target at center mass. The impact itself wasn't enough to send it toppling over the ledge but when every gear and actuator in its mechanisms seized at once there was a spark and arc of artificial lightning, throwing the room into contrast. One already had the next bolt in his hand when they began to return fire but it didn't['t matter - they had only a vague notion of where the attack was coming from.

The second bolt struck its target in the forehead. The CPU port popped open and inside the chip literally boiled into liquid silicon. One was left with only a single target.

Yet this last machine would not be so easily defeated. It jumped from the platform before One could recoil for another shot, landing in a rolling ball before breaking into a sprint. One dodged, backpedaling to stay out of its reach. It lunged once, then again. One was quick but the superior agility of the eight fifty meant that sooner or later he would be compromised. That could not be allowed.

He ducked forward and dodged one last blow, knocking the aggressor off balance as the endorifle discharged inches from his head. One made his way for the main circuit panel, where he could mend the circuit and bring life back to the dam.

He had to time the movement perfectly, a challenge given his limited visual acuity. He didn't care that the world was riding on his shoulders nor did he feel adrenaline in his veins. One would never know emotion but he would always know that one thing that would forever set man apart from machine: programming.

It was his directive, his prime source of movement. Above that there was nothing. He could never go against it and he would never disobey. He would die for his directives if it came to that, and he would do so without the slightest hesitation.

With one fluid motion he stopped in his tracks and spun on his heels, reaching out to the other machine. He caught him on the arm and used its own momentum to force it to follow through, all the way to the circuit panel. One slammed it into the ground panel with his right shoulder, and with his good arm reached up and took hold of the high voltage line. There was a strange feeling of real sensation for just a moment, and then One went offline.

(*****)

"Fucking stairs!" John swore as he topped the last flight of steps. Cameron may not weight as much as Gabriel but after bearing her up what had to be fifty steps it was all he could do not to drop her on the deck plating. Instead he collapsed with her, allowing her head to fall on his lap. He felt a little silly protecting her like that, but it was the least he could do.

He glanced over at the control panel. The TDE was still only at eighty percent charge. John wrung his hands, pulling Cameron up to his chest. This had to work - there were no other options. He looked over the railing as the battle raged below, taking stock of the resistance.

The little band at the bottom of the steps was putting up a hell of a fight. Alison and Kyle were trading fire with a number of endoskeletons that had taken up place against another far wall, within the door but beyond Johns vision. Four was the last endoskeleton left but he was doing what he did best. With a rifle in each hand he alternated one then the other, allowing the cooling cycles to complete.

John looked over at the TDE once more, hoping for a miracle. Apparently they still had some in stock. The charge level read 86%, and it was climbing.

He could hardly contain himself. He stood up, neglecting his lead limbs for a moment.

"Hey, It's charging! I think we're in business!" He yelled down to them, hoping they could hear him over the firefight.

Catherine heard him, as did John Henry. She felt a nearly palpable sense of relief.

"John Henry, make your way to the TDE platform. I'll follow once you're up the stairs."

He gave a slight nod and handed off the last of his ammunition to Catherine and the General. Not once in the firefight had he picked up a rifle and not once had he ever felt the need to. The violence around him seemed brutal and foreign. He was ready to leave.

Just as he turned to leave the fire from the door stopped. James poked his head over their cover and looked, unsure of what he would see. Beyond the door there was only blackness and shadow. Had the endos fallen back? Were they really going to win?

"Kyle! Give me a hand in here man! I got a few of them but they're right behind me." This was the voice of Derrick Reese.

Like a moth to a flame Kyle stepped forward, not feeling Alison's hand grasp onto his shoulder. He ran for the door with his head down and his rifle slung across his back, ready to meet his brother.

Catherine saw him running for the door, her eyes growing wide. "Reese!" She let out a piercing call just as he reached the door and was pulled by a white hand into the shadows.

The General wasted no time following him. He intended to stop Kyle, to knock some sense into him when he saw the young man vanish from his vision. James stopped dead in his tracks. There was no sound, all eyes fixed on the door.

Alison drew in a sharp breath and lunged for the door. "Kyle!" No other sound would come from her lips, and no other thought would enter her mind. She made it as far as the General who stopped her in her tracks, one arm around her.

When Kyle next emerged he was not alone. The pale figure holding him was death, and though his army stood behind him he would finish the battle. Kyle Reese danged from one hand as he struggled to be free. Death held him and would not let him go.

"I would like to speak with John Connor." It said in a voice as calm and flat as deep water.

James already had his rifle up and aimed. "The hell you would."

"Please, General. I'm only here for the boy." It said.

There was a second in time when they were all rooted to their places in space and time. The boy, high above the fray looking down as his heart began to leap and bound in his chest, the General so close to the climax he could reach out and touch it. John Henry simply looked at this thing and like one animal knows another weather by scent or by instinct he knew this was no ordinary machine. He felt acute fear just at the sight of it.

James took the moment and played it forward. He had the advantage, he had the gun and though he knew it might be the end of him he pulled the trigger with its head crossed in the iron sights.

Its head jerked backwards much as it had before. The shot glanced off its round cranium, leaving only a trace of metal and nothing else. The rifle, from close range, had failed. James was ready to fire again when he found his world ablaze in sensation.

It laid into him with its energy weapon, a targeted blast driving him across the room. James didn't even have time to react. He flew backwards and vaguely felt himself impact the wall. He felt blood run down his back and a thousand things telling him he was dead. His systems were going haywire, each one telling him a different story.

The thing felt its confidence grow as James crumpled against the wall. The great General was gone, a single blast to the chest was all it took. Had these other machines been so inferior they had not been able to land such a blow? Were they really so imperfect? So incompetent? It pained him to realize that these lesser machines were not his brothers but his slaves. They had no reason to live if they could not destroy just one man.

Kyle could hardly believe what he had seen. He waited for James to get up, to make it better. One look at the crumpled man and he knew that there would be no savior this time. This small group of soldier was on its own.

He felt the pressure on his shoulder build as he was lifted, eye to eye with this machine. Kyle struggled to free himself but instead felt the sickening crack of bone as it crushed him, literally squeezing his shoulder past the critical point. The pain oozed into his system through every avenue and soon he could feel nothing else.

"Kyle Reese, I would like to have known you better."

Kyle felt the intent in the words and braced himself for whatever may happen next. When he finally did drop to the floor he was surprised to feel almost nothing. He could only hear the sound of a woman, someone he thought he loved once, screaming his name.

Alison felt her lips curl in horror as it dropped Kyle, watching his body fall to the floor. Blood spilled from a gaping wound in his neck. To her credit she never stopped moving, though her scream would curdle any soldiers blood. For Alison Young the future was uncertain. Unlike Kyle, she may have years to live beyond that moment. It didn't matter. If it took her life she would kill this thing, right here and right now.

Without thinking or even taking aim she brought the rifle up as she had done a hundred times before. The motion was mechanical, learned over a thousand days and nights in this hell on earth. She worked the trigger like a guitarist might, plucking it once for one sound and then twice for another. Her barrel vibrated with every step she took forward, towards this monster before her. She had never actually met a monster but she would tonight, and she swore she would feel its blood on her hands.

The Son of SkyNET was surprised by the attack - not that it came but from where. Alison Young marched towards him with her gun chattering, each round striking somewhere important, where he could not simply shrug it off. She was driving him back, back, back against his will. He couldn't see her face through the smoke and fire. He felt every round impact his frame. She never missed, not with one shot.

Alison Young ran dry after twenty-three shots. She didn't look at her lover as she stepped over him - he was long since gone at that point and this Alison didn't care for mourning. She wanted death on her watch. She threw the rifle to the ground and lunged at it with her hands out for its neck.

But machine and man had never really traded places. One may have been the aggressor but she had never really had the upper hand. His frame wasn't coltan, and being special in every way, shape or form he regarded every bullet as merely a countdown to the end of her own life.

Alison felt her hands close around him. He felt cold - it didn't matter. She felt him flex underneath her flesh and disregarded it. She planted one boot on his thigh and puller him forward with all her strength, though small it may have been when weighted against his. He did not yield but Alison Young did not relent. It was only when he took her by both hands that she could look in his face. She spat, proud of herself. She had faced this thing and she knew nothing in her life would ever scare her again.

It wiped the slime from its face, taking a moment to examine it before flinging it to the ground.

"Kyle died quickly, Ms. Young. With you I will be less kind."

And true to his word, he was. He slashed her deep across her belly with something sharp and deadly. Alison felt the life ebb from her slowly. The power she held only moments before leaked from her flank. She was going to die, and the strangest thing was she was okay with it. Death wouldn't be so bad...

Before Alison had hit the floor, the Son of SkyNET was grappled from behind. Four waited until the last possible moment and it turned out to be a second too late. His strength was considerable, far greater than Kyle or Alison or Derrick and he picked up his foe with both arms and hurled him towards the wall.

Four took a moment to asses this thing he was fighting. It was too light to be coltan, too heavy to be a human. His sensors pulled information from every angle as he tried to understand what this thing was, and from where it took its apparent invulnerability.

Magnium.

SkyNET had evolved, created something far beyond the simple terminator that now rose from the rubble. The black alloy magnium was the pinnacle of defense - no simple munitions would penetrate it. This machine was built for one purpose: House the will of the machines, be their emissary.

John Henry could see that Kyle was dead; the sheer quantity of blood on the floor told him that much. Alison, however, was not. He rushed over to her.

"Alison can you hear me? Alison?"

Catherine wasn't far behind him. She regarded Four as the next victim. This machine would not be able to stop the other, this stranger among them. SkyNET had gone far beyond anything she could have imagined.

"John we cannot stay! We can't stop him!"

"We will not leave her!" He said in a voice that was as harsh as he could muster. "The wound is not as bad as it looks. Her artery is intact. She will survive with care."

"How? We leave for the past!"

"Then she will survive in the past. Catherine, come, we have to go." John Henry hoisted her up and handed the bloodied body to Catherine.

John watched from up above, this scene of absolute horror. He had just watched his own father die, and now Alison. He wanted nothing more than to descend the steps and hand himself over if only the act would bring them back.

It wouldn't.

He steeled himself and set the controls. The charging cycle was complete. He set another to begin just after this one had discharged. John thought it over one last time - was he really going to do this? He could see his mother, she could tell him that everything would be alright.

Looking back at Kyle he knew that it wouldn't. Whatever childlike notions he had about his own fate were just as surely dead as the man on the floor. With the press of a button the TDE began to discharge. He ran to Cameron and took her in his arms as he heard a commotion down below.

There was a voice down there, full of rage and pride. It was James Ellison.

John didn't have time to look back and see what had happened. He hoped to any god that may have been listening that they would survive, all of them if that were possible. He felt the rush of guilt for running away but every sane portion of his mind told him this was the only option. To stay and fight was suicide. John Connor swallowed hard, and the TDE swallowed him and Cameron in a flash of light and sound. They were gone, saved from the future.

Catherine looked over her shoulder as she heard the crackle and pop of the machine. John had gone through. If she had been real flesh and blood she would jump for joy. As she was now, she had orders to follow from John Henry, and her own personal directives. Right now it was hard to determine which were controlling her, but she made her way towards the TDE with Alison clutched tightly to her breast. She could feel the child dying in her arms.

James Ellison emerged from wherever he had been hiding. Blood ran down his face in rivulets that clouded his eyes and turned his vision red. It suited his mood, which had gone from tempered to murderous in only a few seconds.

His right arm hung uselessly at his side. It had caught the discharge from this thing and split right down the middle, from his elbow to his wrist. It didn't matter, he was blind to whatever logic may have told him. He swung his good arm wildly, lashing out at this god damned thing in front of him, blood flying from him. He felt like an animal enraged, blinded by his anger and either consumed or abandoned by fear.

"That's it you motherfucker! God damn you, why don't you fucking die!" Blow after blow he drove the thing back, oblivious to the world around him. It was only when John Henry called out to him that he came back into contact with the real world and left his bloodlust behind.

"General! John Connor has made it through!" He was already making his way up the steps, Catherine in tow.

The General saw Alison draped in Catherine's arms. He knew he would not see her again and with this one last glance he took her all in. She had been so good, so beautiful. He hoped she would live to tell his tale. "Go! Take her and go!"

They hurried up the steps to the TDE platform and were pleased to see the next charging cycle was nearly complete. John Henry looked over the controls and paused for a moment, looking to Catherine for some kind of explanation.

"Miss Weaver, I believe that John has traveled back to the wrong date!"

Catherine noticed the temporal coordinates on the screen. She smiled, and knew that though she would see John soon he would not see her for a very long time. A sense of pride grew within her and this time, perhaps for the first time in her life it wasn't regarding herself.

"No John, I think he went back exactly where he intended to. Come on! We've still got to get back to 2009. Hurry! Alison is fading."

"I am going to guide us to a date a few days after our departure. We will arrive in the basement as Ziera corporation."

Catherine shook her head. "No, not the basement. We need to be at County General hospital. Alison won't survive much longer John, quickly."

John adjusted the coordinates from where the other John had set them. They were some distance away from their present location, a good distance north and east. John Henry didn't bother to think about where they were, instead he set the coordinates for the County General hospital.

"The charging cycle is nearly complete!" He said.

The charging bars topped ninety and were on their way to one hundred when they heard a cry out from down below. Catherine leapt from her crouch and looked downward.

General Ellison looked up at her, a half smile on his face. He and four stood at the edge of the cavern. Four looked down into the abyss, as if something had been lost there.

"Goodbye Catherine! It was good to see you again!" James called up to her.

"I'll see you again soon, General."

"I know!"

John Henry looked over the edge just as the charge level reached 100 percent. With the flick of his wrist, they would be headed home. There was one last thing that needed to be done.

"General! The TDE cannot be used again or we may be followed. It must be destroyed."

James hadn't needed John to tell him this but he nodded anyway. It was all taken care of and soon his nightmare would be over. He gave them both one last look and burned it to memory, then turned away. Michaels power cells sat in a corner, undisturbed. The countdown timer was set at fifteen seconds. James figured it would be enough.

There was a pop and the crash of artificial lightning, and then the TDE platform was empty. He felt a sudden sense of loss that faded as quickly as it had come on. James slapped the detonator and tossed it into the abyss, watching as the shadows swallowed it whole.

"I guess I'm ready to come home." He turned his palms outward and looked up, towards a sky that would never see him. Above his head, the lamps in the cavern all went out at once.

And then, there was light.

(*****)

That concludes this story. If you've made it this far, then thank you. I hope you enjoyed it and please review if you have the time. I didn't set out to write a story that was close to 80k words but here I am, three months after I started with something that I'm fairly happy with.

This is not the end of the story, and I have at least one more major part to write. After that, who knows? The next part will be not quite as long and involve John and Cameron much more heavily as the two of them try to find what they have lost. I have a working first chapter and plan to publish it by chapters (instead of all at once) starting around the middle of July.

Please let me know your thoughts, whether they are good or bad. Thanks for reading,

S9