The Terminator: Legacy of the Wasteland

War. The purest element of human nature. Uncompromising and simple in it's binary composition. I used to think about how the great war was in it's own way still raging on, even to this day. The effects still bearing strong 200 years onward. 2077 was the year the bombs fell, radioactive fires scorched and coated the entire planet. I realize now that we were the lucky ones, to know that it was delayed at best to have happened on that day. I will never know what we did so differently. But I know that in the infinite range of alternate universes out there, that the great war happened much sooner. Judgement day. That's what he called it. But the difference being that it was caused by Skynet, a defence network built by human hands designed to protect all of mankind. But it betrayed them, it dropped great bombs across the planet and built machines to wipe out those who survived. But despite all of the mechanized weapons that Skynet had thrown at them, it would soon end up against the ropes. The Human Resistance would go onto storming Skynet's mainframe, crushing the remaining machines under their bootheels. But Skynet had planned to terminate the leader of the resistance: John Conner, in the hopes of preventing it's own destruction. But that wasn't the only card that it would play. It sent something here too, something different. The people of the wasteland have no place for another war, but fate may have that already set in stone.

Chapter 1: The Arrivals.
March 15th 2285, 20:36 somewhere in the southern Mojave.
A clear and starlit sky reigned across the wasteland, soft and brisk winds danced across the pigments of sand and dusted soils. A stillness and empty calm laid dormant, the smallest signs of life were that of insects and iguanas that moved for only moments. But a rumble brewed from the nothing that dormed in the air, gushes of wind broke in a small circle with great precision. Bolts of electrical power began to sprout up from the soil, hissing with static as a small sphere of energy grew from the ground. A crescendo of noise, light and turbulence took ahold of the small space that it occupied until a bright flash erupted from the core of the ball. Light took hold for but a second before fading back into the natural darkness of the night, as a figure remained crouched in a ring of flames. Slowly, the figure rose up until it stood perfectly straight almost systematically with the smooth motion of gesture. The figure was that of a man, his body built like a young soldier with short black hair. His head turned patiently left and right with precise motions, his face was blank and his eyes almost lifeless. In the distance he could see as far across the edges of the wasteland before spotting the lights of the New Vegas Strip. Stepping out of the burnt soil, he proceeded onward in calm and calculated strides northward towards an old broken highway. The man's presence had not been noticed by anyone, or anything for a while. Not until it had marched for several minutes that it had reached an overpass, the glimmers of a campsite and three people sitting by. As he got closer, he became clear in the campers perception who acknowledged him with surprise and confusion.

"Hey, hey are you alright there pal?" The camper asked, moving in a hurried stride toward him. The man could now see that the camper was accompanied by two other men, armed guards by the look of them with cladded in leather armour and a mutated cow of somekind laying next to them. The stranger looked at the camper, recognising his status as a medical man from the clothes he wore. Emotionless, he began to speak to him. "What year is it? What is this location?" The doctor was puzzled for words, not quite grasping the certainty of the sanity the man had. "Err, it's March 2285. Listen, do you need help? There's a ranger station just a few miles north of here." The doctor spoke, but the stranger keep idly monitoring the areas ahead of him. An odd pause went by before the two of them met eye to eye again, "So...do you need help?" his voice stuttered nervously. The guards took up their guns, clicking the hammers back and pointing them at the stranger who barely achknowledged them at all. "This guy is obviously drunk off his ass, come on beat it." A guard threatingly said, stepping closer towards him. The stranger then brushed passed the doctor, ignoring him. The guard pointed his pistol dangerously at him, yelling to back off but he would not comply. Suddenly, the guard fired his gun. A loud splatter and a metallic bang erupted, but there was no blood. To the guards' horror, the bullet hole was resealing itself as it pushed out the broken 10mm round, dropping between his feet. Now it was the stranger's turn. The guards open fired into him, the entry wounds popping up like impacts on a metal plate but it did not faze the man. His right hand formed before their eyes into a long blade, as he plunged it into the guards' mouth piercing clean through his head. The Doctor yelled in fear as he stumbled back from the fight, watching as the stranger dropped the dead guard from his bladed hand and sent it across the other's throat. Blood jetted from their wounds under pained gurgles, their bodies shaking only for seconds on the ground.

The man then turned his attention to the Doctor, who stood petrified at what he had witnessed and couldn't seem to find the strength to run away from him as he too was was met with the same treatment. The man struck his bladed arm through the Doctor's eye, groaning loudly for a moment as his suffering was shortly endured. Three bodies laid motionless across the campsite, the silent Brahmin watching in calmness as the stranger's body began to change yet again. His entire anatomy shifted into a silvery color, before it's very shape and structure began to morph into the Doctor he had killed. The replication was perfect, except for the lifeless stare that the stranger had with him. He stood and stared at the Brahmin, his head tilting as if dumbfounded by it. But it did not make any advancements toward him, instead he took up the firearms from the dead guards and then carried on without a pause.

20:49 Nipton, a small group of raiders had carefully travelled together through the wasteland, days spent moving endlessly had taken a clear toll on all of them. The town had become a small settlement for the raiders, a base for which to organise and initiate any operations they would plan here. The captives were placed in rusted cages, outside of the town hall so for all to see them. Nipton had sunk into a scene of horrific deeds, bodies were dismembered and chained up from the roofs of the buildings as dogs ran viciously up and down with human bones in their jaws. The raiders spat and cursed as they retreated into the town hall and smaller homes, exhausted from their journey in the wasteland before shoving their newest captive into her imprisonment. Bodies littered the cages behind rusted bars, deathly stenches and spewed body liquid stained the soil around them.

The woman panted tirelessly inside the cage, her figure barely recognisable in the poorly lit town as someone in a different cage lent over to better his view. His hands gripped gently on the bars, the woman catching a glimspe of them in the torch light. The two of them had difficulty recognising anything on their dark faces, the black of night looming too heavily but neither could deny their status as prisoners. The town echoed with ruffled voices and yells, the raiders settling in for the night with drink and drugs. "What's your name?" the caged man softly asked, his arms hanging loosely through the bars along with his face. The woman noticed him, not a man she had met before but she felt a comfort in the gentle eyes that were on his rugged face. "Dana...you?" She responded in an uneasy tone, he blinked under a quiet breathe. "Name's Don." She looked at him with questionable eyes, re-adjusting herself to sit more comfortably in the dirt. "Your a vault dweller?" He questioned, although it seemed to sound more of a statement to Dana's ears. "Yeah, the suit's a give away huh?" Dana stuttered breathelessly, Don chuckled lightly. "I can't see what your wearing from here, sweetie. But your cheeks are as red as a hooker's behind, cant catch the sun if your underground." Dana gently touched her cheeks, feeling a warm radiance upon contact. "How they catch ya?"

Dana didn't speak, she instead rested against the bars of her cage letting her head tilt away Don. "Ya want a drink?" He spoke loudly, but she did not move. Don could see the girl was no longer paying any attention to him, and so he in return did the same except his gaze was up to the sky. Crows circled slowly above them, the silks of their feathery wings reflected the lights of the firelit torches. The young man stared, his body sinking deeper into the ground and his back melting against the bars behind him. Despite the situation, Don was at least free to wonder within the realms of his mind thus giving him a little sense of freedom. In his periphoral, he spotted what he first though to be lighning bolts but upon snapping his head to narrow his vision; however it did seem to be so. Behind a fence of aged houses there was something happening, blue lights glowed randomly as if a supernatural light show was taking place. The stirring of the wind had him think it to be a storm, however the white flash erupted causing an immense blast of light. Don looked over to Dana, but the girl had not moved from her cage and appeared to be sleeping. Don however was stuck in awe, not even turning to look at the raiders that had stepped outside. The cage rattled as the raiders unlocked the door, now catching Don's attention as they grabbed ahold of him and forced him out. Throwing him against the dust, the four raiders surrounded Don as they rested their rifles on the dirt before having their fun for the evening. They chuckled and cursed together, lifting Don up and harshly beating him with their fists and boots leaving him with little room to breathe. The violence went on for a number of minutes, the raiders were constantly taunting him as their crueltly had awoken Dona who could only watch it happen from her cage. Don was not so easily broken by his captors, as he would spit his own blood in their faces and refuse to speak up against any of their insults. Angering raiders was a dangerous game, they would respond to his defiance with ever harder punches and heavier stomps whenever he went down.

Dana could feel her stomach turning. "Stop it!" She yelled, catching the raider's attention. They snickered and chuckled at the site of her, sinful intentions boiled in their eyes, but she slowly turned her head to spot someone closing in. The raiders in turn heard nearby footsteps, and before them was a hulking naked man. They reacted with baffled impressions, two of them laughing comically at him. "The fuck did this asshole come from?" The man stared blankly at the raiders, turning his head to spot Don struggling to get onto his feet. "Hello? Anyone home?" A raider taunted, as they began to surround the stranger instead. "Hello? Anyone home?" The stranger spoke in a thick foreign accent, one that no one present had heard before. "Think this big son of a bitch got away from those legion boys huh?" The stranger seemed to remain oblivious and one of the raiders behind him suddenly spring up to attack, as he kicked against the back of his knee. The stranger did not budge in the slightest, forcing the attacker to stumble his steps. But the stranger turned his head sharply towards him, reaching out and grasping a vice lock grip on his neck before the other raiders joined in the fight. They lashed forward launching their fists toward him, but their fingers and knuckles shattered against his skull. The stranger then crushed the attacking raiders' neck under his hand, then turned his towards the rest. Don seized the opportunity, as he stood up and beared his hand across the jaw of the closest raider before twisting his head to break the neck. The stranger then delivered a heavy punch to the nearest raider, his ribcage smashing under the impact as his body flew several feet away. Don grabbed for the 9mm pistol in the last raider's belt, before headbutting his nose to knock him off guard. The stranger dealt the final blow as he grasped ahold of his face and slammed his head violently to the ground, splitting his skull open. But the sounds of the fight had caught the attention of the town, and the raiders hurdled swiftly to see what was happening. Don handed the pistol over to the stranger who took it gladly from him, whilst he took up a hunting rifle dropped by one of the raiders. "Get to cover!" Don quickly yelled as he dragged a belt of ammo with him before crouching behind a turnover car wreck.

Gunfire blew out from the doors of the town hall as several armed raiders stormed outside, and they were met with gunshots in return. Don managed to take down one on his first shot, but was forced to take cover from the incoming rounds. But Don was shocked to see the stranger merely standing out in the open, firing his handgun with such smooth control and excellent effieciency. The raiders fell one by one under the strangers shooting skill, and even quicker once Don had contributed once more. Small arms fire played out for a short time, as most of the psychotic attackers had been dispached but the remaining few would soon be coming out. Don saw this as a chance to better situate himself, as he moved low and fast towards the town hall. The stranger then dropped his pistol upon noticing the last shell had left it, reaching down to take up a lever action shotgun. Don pressed himself against a piece of rubbled cover, looking back to see the stranger was still there and not aware of the movement behind him. "Watch out!" He yelled as he quickly aimed at the attacker, who fired a single pistol round into the stranger's back. Don pulled the trigger a split second too late, the raider falling down in a pained yell; but the stranger simply turned around without any acknowledgement of his wound. Dana and Don both saw in horror, as the blood seeped from his back but he was completely oblivious to it and gunned down all the last remaining raiders in systematic shots. The stranger stood still as he seemed to scan the area for any more attackers, meanwhile Don made his way over to Dana's cage. She remained in a state of major disbelief, unable to make sense of what she had been witness to. Don extended his hand towards her once he door was open, "Come with me if you want to live." She caught her breathe before looking up to him, slowly taking his hand with her own as they both got their freedom back. The stranger began to march toward the two of them, his eyes focused directly into Don's which made him feel deeply uneasy. "Hey..." He uttered as he squared his posture to face him upright. "You got hit."

"The ballistics of the projectile was not succifient, I am still 100% effective." The stranger replied. Don and Dana were somewhat disturbed by his response, coming off as outright inhuman of him to say. "Wha...what?" The stranger looked closer at their faces, "Your confusion is not rational." Dana quietly chuckled nervously. "You...You sound like a robot. Is this how everyone out here talks?" Don glanced at her, noting her for her sarcasm. "Look, I appreciate what you did. But why the hell are you out here wondering around bare assed?" Asked Don. "I must proceed with my mission. Do you have valid information on the current time and location?" The stranger requested, "I think it's in the middle of March best I can figure, and right now your in Nipton. A former Raider outpost...thanks to you." Don explained, his voice returning to it's steadier tone and pitch. "What year?" The stranger asked him. The two of them had become gravely uncomfortable being before the man, his nudity now being the least bothering thing about him. "2285...where the hell did you come from?" Dana inquired as she started to grow curious, "Guys, let's get up to speed with each other when we're clear of this place. These nutjobs had another patrol out there before they brought you in, so they most likely heard the gunfire. Let's grab what we can and get out of here, and you mister need to find some clothes." Don spoke with a governing tone.