A/N: This is a spin-off from By Courage and Blood and explains some plot points. But one can read this and enjoy without reading BCaB. This story is going to be part of a "future war" series (though I'll probably change the name) following the three characters Alex, Jo, and Carter.

And I give credit to Damar at Spacebattles . com in the Skynet: The First Decade thread about Skynet working for the US (as one of the characters says about half way down). That'll be explained more in later stories.


=========Gdansk, Poland (April 2023)==========

The ruined remains of the city were dark, black. There were no lights. There were never any lights at night anymore. No matter how far one was from them. No one knew when or where they would emerge; but if they saw light, they would come. They were like ghosts, ghouls, or the demons a mother warns her children about if they do not go to bed.

They are a force of darkness which cares for no living being. They walk the Earth at all hours and appear in force randomly. They can see their prey in any condition.

They are the grinning demons with their blood crimson eyes and their metal skulls; grinning skeletons of death.

No place was safe from them. The machines.

Extraordinary methods were required to slip by them, because just moving invited their deadly attention.

Silently and without warning the waters around one of the few intact piers in the port city of Gdansk began to tremble. The calm waters of the Baltic began to part as the man made machine slowly rose out of the water. The rectangular island mast was followed slowly by a cylindrical half-tube, the rest hidden below the murky waters.

Blackened water, filled with ash and debris, beaded and dripped slowly off of the metallic surfaces of the machine of war. Once built for man to fight man, the symbol of war was now a strange and perverted symbol of hope and peace. Peace if the machine enemy could ever be defeated.

The gray-black ash water slowly dripped down the surface of the war machine, back into the polluted and ruined waters of the Baltic.

Thirty minutes prior to the submarine's arrival a small military convoy had quietly arrived at the docks. Once Poland's principal seaport, the city was a ruined wasteland, hit by a fifty-kiloton, American nuclear missile. And now, an American submarine sat vulnerable upon the surface of the waters of Poland.

Numbering slightly over a dozen, M35 cargo trucks, guarded by KTO Rosomaks and a French LeClerc MBT began dispersing their human cargo quietly. Fifty soldiers, a mashed unit of half a dozen NATO nations assembled on the docks, rushing towards the American submarine.

The soldiers knew what to do without being told; they'd done this many times in the past. A mishmash of equipment and soldiers, from France, Poland, Germany, Latvia, the Netherlands, and Denmark took their positions along the docks quietly. Quickly and efficiently they set up overlapping arcs of fire, deployed rocket crews, and propped their squad machineguns up, all aimed cautiously at the American submarine.

Skynet, early in the war, once had control of human warships, before their feared warships deployed; the monstrous Krakens, the agile and swift Hydras, and the powerful Scyllas all ploughed the dangerous waters of the world, waiting and hunting for human targets to annihilate.

As the collection of foreign soldiers assembled the submarine continued to lift itself to its proper height, its mast barely coming under the massive tarps the soldiers had hung weeks ago between two adjacent docks to hide the machine of war from the ever vigilant enemy satellites and drones.

The soldiers gathered, and their commanders assembled in front of a bombed out warehouse, ready to direct and command their soldiers should the submarine prove to be a Skynet Trojan Horse. Skynet had had too many victories in the past twelve years. They would not have another.


A man, emerald green eyes, a chin of stubble and a face with the soldier's 'Thousand Yard Stare' and too many scars, the kind only earned in battle, slowly unlocked the hatch leading to the deck of the American war machine. He grunted at the unnatural angle his arm was forced to conform to for this task.

The submarine was in need of maintenance. It was a luxury the Resistance did not have.

"You should not be the first one to exit, Colonel Baum," the man under the Colonel stated in a typical deadpan voice the Colonel had long ago learned to accept and grudgingly even respect. But as a soldier who had fought two wars against the machines, old habits died hard. He looked down at the man, the soldier. A soldier he was, but a man he was not. Colonel Derek Baum was always reminded of the enemy he fought when he looked at the one below him.

In this moment the observation which had been made was unappreciated. Baum knew he should not be the first out. But he was the commanding officer of this expedition, this mission. He looked down and shot the man a contemptuous sneer, telling him without saying that 'I don't care what you think, I'm doing it any way' and not caring what the one below would say in response.

"I think we can trust them. And guess what happens if they storm the boat?" Derek asked rhetorically as he spun the locking mechanism, giving it a good tug and a huff as he did so. "No answer?" He glanced back down and shrugged.

The soldier's stare never wavered, and Colonel Baum could feel the dark blue eyes on him still, waiting for him to finish unlocking the hatch. With a sigh of relief and a hiss of incoming air signaling the hatch was unlocked and depressurize, he lifted it with a grunt of effort and a release of his own air held inside his scarred and tired lungs. The hatch quietly squeaked as it fell on its hinges before stopping mere inches, at an obtuse angle, from hitting the blackened, worn deck of the USS Ohio.

Colonel Derek Baum sighed, murmuring something to himself about being 'too old' to be 'gallivanting around the world on these crazy missions.' One foot and hand over the other he lifted himself onto the deck, his combat boots gained traction on the deck as he lifted one foot over the edge of the hatch, and this kept him from slipping in the dirty ash water which had successfully muddied the hull of the otherwise majestic war weapon.

"Identify yourself, soldat," came a French-accented challenged. There was no light shining on Col. Baum. There was never any light. He looked up, the tarp obstructing his view of the stars. One thing he could always count on, when the clouds weren't too thick, was to see the stars. It gave him strength to look up, towards a place still pure, without war. But there were no stars, not with the covering above the submarine. He sighed. Nothing ever seemed to go his way.

Col. Baum stepped aside as the soldier under him, John Alexander Planck, quickly ascended and shot himself onto the deck, standing side-by-side his commanding officer. Derek had kept his hands at his side, close to his sidearm. Alex Planck had his plasma rifle swung across his chest in a flash, always ready for confrontation. The soldier positioned himself so he was slightly in front of the Colonel, ready to defend him if needed.

Slowly the soldier scanned the other soldiers standing watch over them. Three dozen were arrayed in defensive positions around the docks with dozens more in reserve. The tactical situation was not optimal. Planck had already identified soldiers with Russian produced RPGs and French ATGMs pointed towards him, Derek, and the submarine.

Derek stood confidently on the deck, his right hand resting on the butt of his sidearm. "Colonel Derek Baum. John Connor sent us for Colonel Joan Binochet," Derek yelled into the night. His eyes darted from soldier to soldier, ready to fight if he was forced… he was always ready. But tonight he didn't want to fight. Not tonight.

He thought of how it was different here. In Los Angeles he could never have yelled. No one would have challenged him that loudly. Things were different here. He thought that perhaps the war was not as brutal here, in Europe. Then the smell hit him. Fire. Burning. There was always something burning in this world. He only needed to look above; at the absence of stars and the blackened and gray tarp above to remind him their fight was as hard as his. There was no easy fight in the war against Skynet. There was no region or people which did not fight as hard as the other. Everyone was in the same war for survival.

He looked into the eyes of the soldiers. Fear was the dominant expression. What little light there was from the water hitting their eyes oh so perfectly told him more than any interrogation ever could. Hopefully this would be the last time he would have to fight this war. The weight of fighting this war once and over again was pushing his shoulders down under the strain. He rarely smiled anymore, and his eyes were almost as blank as the machines. Sometimes he wondered if he had any heart left in this conflict, or if he was just going through the motions because that was expected of him. But for now he kept himself focused, straight, with his military bearings as he patiently waited for the response to his declaration of identification.

"Ah, Colonel Derek Baum, our American friend," came a reply from the blackness of the port. A woman's voice, it carried far. It was strong. He knew her.

Both Derek and Alex, the two Tech Com soldiers half a world away from their home, could hear the soft sounds of footsteps on concrete, soon accompanied by half a dozen more. From the night a tall woman appeared, hair long and black, tied back. Her skin was slightly tanned. Not uncommon for a soldier constantly in the field. She wore the uniform of a French Army officer. 'J. Binochet' was taped on the right breast pocket of her fatigues. The patch of the 92e Régiment d'Infanterie was on her left shoulder, barely visible to Alex at the angle the soldier was standing to her.

Her rifle was slung on her shoulder and she stood wide stance, hands on hips, towering over the two soldiers dependent on her will for survival. "You've been promoted," she smiled down at him.

He looked up, straining his eyes as he adjusted to the darkness around him. And the cold. He hadn't noticed it with the soldiers pointing guns at him. But it was cold. Colder than it should be for May. It was always cold now. There was nothing warm left in the world.

"Well, I guess someone thinks I'm doing a good job," he said to her cheerfully, smiling at her. "I'm surprised they haven't made you a general yet. After Berlin," he winked. But she couldn't see it. He could make out a slight shrug and dismissive smile. She waved off the compliment modestly. He subtly shifted his body weight to keep his balance as the cool night wind ripped at his back.

She turned abruptly, her tied hair still flowing in the wind behind her, shouting out orders in French, Polish, and English, spurring her soldiers into action. They quickly lowered a gangplank to the American submarine.

Colonel Baum and Alex walked up first, nodding to a pair of French soldiers standing ready to descend. The two Tech Com soldiers stopped in front of Colonel Binochet.

Her presence was commanding and it was clear she had the respect and loyalty of her hodge-podge collection of soldiers from across Europe. Like many units, they had been caught behind Skynet lines, separated from their main units, and had reformed into a mixed-nationalist unit.

"So, what do you have for us?" She asked as her left eyebrow rose inquisitively. She stood on her toes to take a quick look over Derek's shoulder. More soldiers were exiting the boat. "This is not a gesture of supply and friendship, is it? You need something." She asked, eyes narrowing slightly. Derek could see a faint darkness sliding over her otherwise shining blue eyes.

"No," he walked up, placing his hand gently on her upper arm. "Privately," he whispered.

Nodding slowly she pointed at a dozen soldiers and motioned for them to help the Americans on the boat unload their cargo.

"What is it?"

"Tech Com has intelligence that Skynet found something in Greece, outside Athens about a month ago," he whispered, keeping his eyes up as he lowered his head to talk. He positioned himself so his back was to the water, and he could see all the action happening on the pier. He kept himself scanning the pier, making sure everyone was out of earshot. "We don't know what it is, but we need to get down there." He pulled out a small PDA from his fatigue pockets. "Here, take a look," he handed it to her gently, flicking up the proper map.

Alex Planck had come over quietly without Baum noticing. "They have two companies of T-600s and a platoon of 800s. Two squadrons of HK support and an Ogre detachment," Alex informed her, his voice never deviating from the matter-of-fact, unconcerned tone. "Cameron gave us specific orders to-"

"She's giving orders now?" Col. Binochet asked, immediately picking up on that short, interrupted statement. Her voice had been filled with a mix of shock and disappointment. "Derek…" she looked to him, longing for an explanation. Her eyes demanded that Derek offer a suitable explanation.

Col. Baum shot one of his powerful icy, fiery glares at the soldier to his left. At the right moment the wind ripped up from the ocean, spraying a slightly salty and ash mixture onto the trio. He gritted his teeth, his fist tightening slightly in anger. "General Connor was occupied… wounded, when this intelligence was brought to us. But he authorized the mission," he affirmed. He kept his eyes locked on Alex.

She grabbed his fatigue jacket and brought him closer, further from her soldiers. "The… metals… aren't accepted as much here," she looked towards the soldier now standing behind Baum, keeping her eyes on him, it, as she talked to her friend. "Don't speak of them. I have half a dozen countries in this regiment. It's hard enough keeping us all going. We don't need… complications." She tilted her head, waiting for him to acknowledge her warning.

"I… I trust them," he said slowly. He didn't know why he felt a need to defend them… maybe just this one behind him and the two others on the submarine. He closed his eyes and reopened them slowly as he nodded to Col. Binochet. "We know. But thank you."

"Thank you? For what?" She asked, confused.

"Not telling," he smiled, the tone more of a plea than a statement. But she nodded and he let out the breath he had been holding patiently inside him. "Thank you," he smiled again, his green eyes looking into her blue eyes, illuminated for a moment as a break in the clouds allowed the starlight to touch the Earth ever so briefly before being snatched away once again. Derek took a step back cautiously.

"How many rifles do you have for us?" She asked quickly, defusing the building moment between the two old soldiers. The two old friends.

Alex also took a step back, still keeping his solid and expressionless stare on Baum and Binochet. He felt he had said enough to both of the Colonels for the moment. It was unnecessary to answer any other questions unless directly asked by either. Knowing when to step back was something he and the other has learned long, long ago.

"We have enough for two regiments," Derek said slowly, drawing out the exact numbers to tease his old friend. A smirk formed on the left side of his lips as her eyes widened. The French Colonel lost her military discipline for a moment, forcing her to bring up her hand to hide her wide-open mouth.

"God… how did you manage?" She asked, dumbstruck. "Plasma rifles are in such short supply." She tapped her own rare SCAR-H with attached grenade launcher. "Armor piercing. It works. Sometimes," she stated reluctantly, shrugging her shoulders. "We can do a lot with two regiments worth of plasma rifles."

Derek snorted, holding the precise information from her. He could see that she knew he wouldn't tell her exactly. "We have our sources. I know you want to attack the metal. Hopefully you can drive the metal out of Scz…Scze… uh, so many constants in this damn language."

"Szczecin," she corrected, smiling at his futile attempt. He huffed, rolling his eyes as his failure and her success.

Alex ignored the two, instead walking to the edge of the gangplank and watched as the soldiers quickly unloaded the boxes containing nearly two thousand plasma rifles. Many of the missile tubes had been converted to storage. Alex had voiced his objection to both General Connor and Cameron that it would be a mistake to distribute such valuable weaponry half a world away. But they had insisted. 'Better to build bridges' Alex Planck had been told.

He placed that though into memory of his neural net, and marked it for analysis later. Alex turned his head slightly and listened to the conversation between the two Colonels behind him.

"The Greeks may not let you in their country, Derek," the French Colonel informed him. "They still blame America for what you did. And if they do, I heard the general there isn't very open to attack. You're going to have some Ace to convince him," she warned.

She had brought up Skynet and America again. "Joan…" His voice intensified, taking on a flare of anger and defiance. "I didn't do anything. We didn't do anything. Skynet did it. Skynet." Alex was listening and had heard this conversation a dozen times. "Connor warned everyone. This is Connor's show now. No one listened, not even your people," he pointed out as the argument intensified quickly.

"And Skynet worked for America for the first few years after the holocaust, Derek," she spat. "Your government used Skynet to protect itself!"

Alex could hear Baum sigh against the background noise of soldiers moving crates and the truck diesel engines starting.

"Connor told them, Joan. He told everyone the truth and they ignored him. Everyone ignored him… You trust Connor, right?" Alex heard him pause. He didn't hear any confirmation the French colonel trusted General Connor.

Alex considered if this mission was in jeopardy. He weighed the chance of looking back at the two soldiers, but decided against it. He and his team had travelled through time to save them. But it did not appear that Derek's safety would be in jeapordy. This was just an argument. Listening to the two colonels argue, Alex had remembered he had saved Derek Reese Baum's life twenty-eight times since 2007. That did not include the many indirect times.

Alex focused back on the conversation. "I trust Connor after what he did. But I'm telling you…" he could detect concern in her voice and worry for the safety of Col. Baum. Alex believed the ton superseded a casual relationship. "…be careful. The Greeks aren't the only ones who still blame America."

Alex turned his attention back to the boat and watched as Joanne 'Jo' Soto and Carter Bishop slowly made their way up to him. The three stood exactly three feet from each other, their deep blue eyes their most distinguishing feature. Personal space was not an issue. Each had a heavy plasma rifle draped across their chest.

"They're arguing. The Greeks don't trust us," Jo stated. "It could compromise the mission."

Colonel Baum was in command of the mission, but Alex was the leader of this team. "It shouldn't. We won't do anything to jeopardize the mission." His deep blue eyes met the eyes of the other two team members. They'd been together for nearly twenty years. They'd fought countless battles. He trusted them. They trusted him.

He risked a glance back towards the two human colonels who had now stopped arguing. Derek had his PDA out again, going over the route the Tech Com soldiers would take over land.

"It is approximately 3,000 kilometers to our destination. More if we travel via the Adriatic coast. Alex, you should inform Colonel… Baum we need to leave," the blue eyed terminator said, tilting his head.

"We also need to be cautious of… standing out," Alex said with a slight grin on his face. "Nothing abnormal."

Carter laughed quickly, his warmed breath condensing as it hit the cool night air. "Don't be freaks?" he questioned, looking at the two opposite him and narrowing his eyes. The same slight grin Alex had was on Carter's mouth as well.

"Hey, you three," Derek yelled, motioning them over with his gloved hand. They walked over quickly, but casually. Their quiet steps did not betray what they were under their artificial organic disguise. "Once all our gear and the SEALs are off the good Colonel here," he nodded to their host, "will provide a couple of cars for us." He saw the questioning expression from the three machines. "Skynet patrols have been ignoring civilian traffic… the little there is. We should be safe." He held up his hand, stopping any of them from repeated the tired… motto of his nephew. "There isn't more than an HK squadron between us and Krakow."

Colonel Binochet held up her dirtied hand in silent warning. "But after Warsaw the patrols are more intense. Bucharest in the headquarters for Skynet in the Balkans and they have thousands of their horde there. Be careful." She turned towards Derek. "Head towards Budapest, it's the safest route. Then get to Montenegro. It's one of the few we can control. Stay west of Serbia, along the coast. But not too close. If the Serbs find you… they hate you… they will kill any American. They'd kill Connor if they could."

"We will not let that happen," Alex stated. His tone was neither filled with anger, hatred, or malice towards the Serbians. It was stated as a simple fact. Colonel Binochet nodded slowly.

She turned her full attention back to the only one she even cared about. She knew who the three opposite her were; she'd found out in Germany but had kept the secret after Derek had begged her to. She owed him. But for now, the three metals were not her concern. "You'll need a place to run if they attack." The meaning of they was obvious. "Don't stay too close to the coast. But don't wander too far in. I'm sorry I can't be of more help, but we don't have anyone down there you can trust until Greece. He'll meet you in Grevene… and don't trust them. They'll work with you… but just… be careful, Derek." She looked up at him before quickly moving her head and eyes back towards the blackened and scorched concrete. "Be careful."