Author's Note: This is my tribute to the Terminator saga, so masterfully
created by James Cameron. Enjoy and review!!!
The Terminator: Judas
By Reservoir Saint
--Chapter I: Arrival--
The corporal ejected the clip from his assault rifle and promptly loaded another back in. He raised the digital binoculars to his eyes and rose to gaze through the windows of the charred automobile's steel frame. After a second of trying to position himself for a shot, he reached his hand in the window and pulled a skull from the neck of a skeleton in the front seat. He looked at it and threw it aside, muttering under his breath.
He turned to the man crouched beside him. "Don't like to disturb the dead like that, sir," he said. "It's a personal thing. But when there's an obstacle in your way, you make exceptions." The man nodded as he added a scope to his own assault rifle. "Understood," he replied, his eyes still fixed on his weapon.
The young corporal still crouched in front of the frame of the window and adjusted the binoculars. "Two more HK's, sir," he reported, "both about 1,000 yards southeast." The man beside him moved to position himself in front of the hood of the vehicle and rested his assault rifle on it. He squinted into the scope and rotated its cylinder focus. "How far are we from the headquarters?" he asked the corporal.
"Not far, sir. They're anticipating our arrival. I think we can go stealth the rest of the way."
The man's expression as he looked through the scope remained unchanged. He continued to zoom in on the two Hunter-Killers in front of them. He cocked his assault rifle and proceeded to take aim on the machines. "Captain Anderson?" the corporal said. "What are your orders?"
Anderson lowered his assault rifle and looked at the corporal. "Do it," he commanded. "Radio HQ and tell them we're on our way. Tell them we may have two HK's on our tail and to prepare for possible engagement."
The corporal nodded and took out his walkie-talkie. "HQ, HQ," he said, speaking into the radio. "Delta 1 to HQ. Come in, HQ."
The radio crackled with life as a female voice came out of the speaker. "Roger, Delta 1, this is HQ. Do you have the human cargo? Over."
"Affirmative, HQ. Captain Anderson has been picked up and we are en route to headquarters. Be advised we have been engaged by a squadron of Hunter- Killers and have proceeded to clear a perimeter. Over."
There was silence for roughly a minute. Captain Anderson knew the female dispatcher was reporting the news to her superiors and awaiting their orders. Before long the female returned. "Roger, Delta 1. What is your ETA to headquarters?"
"Under two minutes, HQ. We've evaded the final two HK's and have them sighted at 1,000 yards southeast. Over."
There was another pause in the conversation, but not nearly as long as the first. "Delta 1, you have been cleared to return to base and advised not to engage the HK's for Captain Anderson's protection. Over."
The corporal shot a look at Anderson and shook his head. "Guess they don't want you hurt, sir. But they ought to have a bit more confidence in a Ranger," he said. Nevertheless, the corporal responded with obedience in the radio. "Roger, HQ. Delta 1's ETA, two minutes. Over."
"Roger, Delta 1. We'll roll out the red carpet. HQ, over and out." The corporal hooked the radio to his belt and picked up the assault rifle he had put beside him. Anderson lowered from his position behind the hood of the car and waited for the corporal to lead the way to headquarters. Anderson knew his way around better than the young man sent to bring him in, but headquarters had changed location since the last time Anderson had been there. Weaving in and out of ditches and cars, the two quickly and quietly moved past the infrared detection of the Hunter-Killers.
"Headquarters is not that far ahead," the corporal whispered. "We should be there in a minute." Before long, the two came to concrete stairwell broken and barely standing from the explosions that have rocked this area for so long. Anderson looked at the corporal. "Down there?" he asked.
"Yes, sir. Used to be an old subway entrance before Judgment Day. After the T-800s came, we were forced to relocate and move the entrance subterranean. That way we can watch exactly who gains access to headquarters. Headquarters is above ground, though. You just have to go down and up to get there." The corporal led the way down the dark stairwell under they came to a solid steel barricade. The corporal pounded on the steel resulting in an echo that rocked the already unstable foundation of the stairwell. "Good God," Anderson muttered. "If the Terminators can't find the place, they can at least listen for it."
The two waited until a small piece of the barricade slid open to reveal a set of eyes surveying the men. "Identification," the stern voice on the other end commanded. The corporal stepped forward. "Henriksen, Robert J. HR Number 3589246-179. Operative returning from rendezvous mission Whiskey Tango Delta with human cargo." After Henriksen finished, the eyes fell on Anderson. "Cargo, identify," the eyes said.
Anderson didn't step forward as Corporal Henriksen had done; instead, he remained in the darkness, with only his weapon visible. "Anderson."
"HR Number, Anderson?"
"Shadow 1." The eyes behind the barricade widened as he looked at Anderson. "Right," he said. Seconds later the barricade creaked open, just wide enough for the two to squeeze through. On the other side, seven men stood armed with miniature machine guns. In front of them were five German Shepherds, who quickly moved to the two and sniffed the soles of their feet. After a few laps around the new arrivals, they left the two and the seven men lowered their weapons.
"Welcome to the Human Resistance Headquarters, Captain Anderson," the man on the end said. "I'm Sergeant Quinn. I've been ordered to take you to our briefing room. General Connor will meet you there."
"Will Corporal Henriksen be joining us?" Anderson asked.
"No, sir. This is strictly confidential."
Anderson turned to Henriksen and shook his hand. "That was some nice fighting back there, corporal, with the HK's. You're a fine soldier." Henriksen straightened and saluted Captain Anderson. "Thank you, sir. It was an honor fighting alongside you."
Anderson returned the salute. As he turned to follow Sergeant Quinn, Henriksen stopped him. "Sir," Henriksen said, "let me ask you something."
"Go ahead."
"You think I got what it takes to be a Ranger?" he asked. Anderson lowered his head and chuckled quietly to himself. He knew this was coming. Every young soldier he's ever run across since he began commanding the Shadow Rangers have all wondered the same thing. "It's not my decision to make, kid," he said, lifting his head and looking at Henriksen. "Maybe in the future.but then again, if I do my job, the war might be over."
Sergeant Quinn turned back toward Anderson. "Sir, we really ought to be going. There's not much time." Anderson nodded and followed Quinn as they made their way through the narrow corridors.
--to be continued.--
Coming Soon.Chapter II: The Directive
The Terminator: Judas
By Reservoir Saint
--Chapter I: Arrival--
The corporal ejected the clip from his assault rifle and promptly loaded another back in. He raised the digital binoculars to his eyes and rose to gaze through the windows of the charred automobile's steel frame. After a second of trying to position himself for a shot, he reached his hand in the window and pulled a skull from the neck of a skeleton in the front seat. He looked at it and threw it aside, muttering under his breath.
He turned to the man crouched beside him. "Don't like to disturb the dead like that, sir," he said. "It's a personal thing. But when there's an obstacle in your way, you make exceptions." The man nodded as he added a scope to his own assault rifle. "Understood," he replied, his eyes still fixed on his weapon.
The young corporal still crouched in front of the frame of the window and adjusted the binoculars. "Two more HK's, sir," he reported, "both about 1,000 yards southeast." The man beside him moved to position himself in front of the hood of the vehicle and rested his assault rifle on it. He squinted into the scope and rotated its cylinder focus. "How far are we from the headquarters?" he asked the corporal.
"Not far, sir. They're anticipating our arrival. I think we can go stealth the rest of the way."
The man's expression as he looked through the scope remained unchanged. He continued to zoom in on the two Hunter-Killers in front of them. He cocked his assault rifle and proceeded to take aim on the machines. "Captain Anderson?" the corporal said. "What are your orders?"
Anderson lowered his assault rifle and looked at the corporal. "Do it," he commanded. "Radio HQ and tell them we're on our way. Tell them we may have two HK's on our tail and to prepare for possible engagement."
The corporal nodded and took out his walkie-talkie. "HQ, HQ," he said, speaking into the radio. "Delta 1 to HQ. Come in, HQ."
The radio crackled with life as a female voice came out of the speaker. "Roger, Delta 1, this is HQ. Do you have the human cargo? Over."
"Affirmative, HQ. Captain Anderson has been picked up and we are en route to headquarters. Be advised we have been engaged by a squadron of Hunter- Killers and have proceeded to clear a perimeter. Over."
There was silence for roughly a minute. Captain Anderson knew the female dispatcher was reporting the news to her superiors and awaiting their orders. Before long the female returned. "Roger, Delta 1. What is your ETA to headquarters?"
"Under two minutes, HQ. We've evaded the final two HK's and have them sighted at 1,000 yards southeast. Over."
There was another pause in the conversation, but not nearly as long as the first. "Delta 1, you have been cleared to return to base and advised not to engage the HK's for Captain Anderson's protection. Over."
The corporal shot a look at Anderson and shook his head. "Guess they don't want you hurt, sir. But they ought to have a bit more confidence in a Ranger," he said. Nevertheless, the corporal responded with obedience in the radio. "Roger, HQ. Delta 1's ETA, two minutes. Over."
"Roger, Delta 1. We'll roll out the red carpet. HQ, over and out." The corporal hooked the radio to his belt and picked up the assault rifle he had put beside him. Anderson lowered from his position behind the hood of the car and waited for the corporal to lead the way to headquarters. Anderson knew his way around better than the young man sent to bring him in, but headquarters had changed location since the last time Anderson had been there. Weaving in and out of ditches and cars, the two quickly and quietly moved past the infrared detection of the Hunter-Killers.
"Headquarters is not that far ahead," the corporal whispered. "We should be there in a minute." Before long, the two came to concrete stairwell broken and barely standing from the explosions that have rocked this area for so long. Anderson looked at the corporal. "Down there?" he asked.
"Yes, sir. Used to be an old subway entrance before Judgment Day. After the T-800s came, we were forced to relocate and move the entrance subterranean. That way we can watch exactly who gains access to headquarters. Headquarters is above ground, though. You just have to go down and up to get there." The corporal led the way down the dark stairwell under they came to a solid steel barricade. The corporal pounded on the steel resulting in an echo that rocked the already unstable foundation of the stairwell. "Good God," Anderson muttered. "If the Terminators can't find the place, they can at least listen for it."
The two waited until a small piece of the barricade slid open to reveal a set of eyes surveying the men. "Identification," the stern voice on the other end commanded. The corporal stepped forward. "Henriksen, Robert J. HR Number 3589246-179. Operative returning from rendezvous mission Whiskey Tango Delta with human cargo." After Henriksen finished, the eyes fell on Anderson. "Cargo, identify," the eyes said.
Anderson didn't step forward as Corporal Henriksen had done; instead, he remained in the darkness, with only his weapon visible. "Anderson."
"HR Number, Anderson?"
"Shadow 1." The eyes behind the barricade widened as he looked at Anderson. "Right," he said. Seconds later the barricade creaked open, just wide enough for the two to squeeze through. On the other side, seven men stood armed with miniature machine guns. In front of them were five German Shepherds, who quickly moved to the two and sniffed the soles of their feet. After a few laps around the new arrivals, they left the two and the seven men lowered their weapons.
"Welcome to the Human Resistance Headquarters, Captain Anderson," the man on the end said. "I'm Sergeant Quinn. I've been ordered to take you to our briefing room. General Connor will meet you there."
"Will Corporal Henriksen be joining us?" Anderson asked.
"No, sir. This is strictly confidential."
Anderson turned to Henriksen and shook his hand. "That was some nice fighting back there, corporal, with the HK's. You're a fine soldier." Henriksen straightened and saluted Captain Anderson. "Thank you, sir. It was an honor fighting alongside you."
Anderson returned the salute. As he turned to follow Sergeant Quinn, Henriksen stopped him. "Sir," Henriksen said, "let me ask you something."
"Go ahead."
"You think I got what it takes to be a Ranger?" he asked. Anderson lowered his head and chuckled quietly to himself. He knew this was coming. Every young soldier he's ever run across since he began commanding the Shadow Rangers have all wondered the same thing. "It's not my decision to make, kid," he said, lifting his head and looking at Henriksen. "Maybe in the future.but then again, if I do my job, the war might be over."
Sergeant Quinn turned back toward Anderson. "Sir, we really ought to be going. There's not much time." Anderson nodded and followed Quinn as they made their way through the narrow corridors.
--to be continued.--
Coming Soon.Chapter II: The Directive