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Cowardice
The Hellraiders were led by "General" Harlan West, actually a corporal in the National Guard. In the aftermath of Judgment Day, he had somehow seized control of a depot full of weapons and vehicles, including a fleet of humvees, twelve M113 APCs and at least four M60 tanks. These were the backbone of his power, and currently at least a third were converging on Mammoth, Arizona.
The first to engage were a humvee with a 40 mm automatic grenade launcher and a truck with a quad .50 machine gun mount. A T666 lying in ambush was fired upon first. A volley of grenades blew off one arm, and a steady stream of .50 rounds chewed into its cranium. As the dying terminator toppled, a second one opened fire from the right with a .50 rifle, destroying the humvee. The truck's machine guns swiveled, pummeling the new threat. Then a third T666 opened fire from behind with its own AGL. A burst of grenades killed the gunner and ignited his magazines. A second burst gutted the cab. All in all, it was an unfavorable exchange for the forces of Skynet.
Within a fraction of a second, things got worse. A 106 mm recoilless shell abruptly slammed into the cacti where the third terminator was hiding. The torso of the T666 went flying through the air, along with a shower of burning cactus pads. The source, a humvee with the recoilless gun running through the cab, rolled into view. Before the surviving terminator could open fire, it was struck by three dozen 20 mm cannon shells, courtesy of an M113 fitted with a Vulcan gatling gun.
Within moments, the brush was alive with darting and charging humvees. T666s returned fire from seemingly scattered positions, then fell back into a tight defensive line. A trio of HKGs, one on legs and two smaller ones on wheels, fired from the cover of the hills. The humvees reeled, but then a wedge of three APCs rolled in, supported by a tank.
Unit 838 and his team mates 796 and 819 held the hill before one of the HKGWs, on the left flank. The tank destroyer and M113 that had won the first engagement, moving alongside the main wedge, now fired on them. A trio of T666s guarding their flank were destroyed by a recoilless shell and a spray of Vulcan fire. The HKGW returned fire, destroying the humvee, but a tank shell struck it, blowing its "torso" to pieces. It took less than three seconds for the three T777 units to go from well-protected to suddenly exposed to an attack by two M113s. But it was more than enough time for the T777s to react, in what proved to be very different ways. 796 and 819 returned fire as streams of API-T rounds bracketed them from left and right. 838 hurled himself into a ditch full of cacti.
796 lost his arm and half of his skull to the stream of shells. 819 managed to keep his feet as the fire of the other APC bored into his chest, firing a machine gun in each hand. He pierced the cupola of one M113, but the dead or dying gunner kept a hand on the trigger. Then the other Vulcan added its fire, and 819 was cut in two. Twelve men on ATVs drove out of the APCs. As the rest fanned out, two of the riders closed in on the fallen terminators. A twitching T666 received a coup de grace from a grenade launcher. 819 came at them again, crawling on his elbows and firing a machine gun with his one functional hand. Both humans dived aside, and then fired grenades in 819's general direction. After two hits to the skull, 819 was functional no more. "Should we check for more?" a human units said.
"Nah, if there were more, they would be shooting at us already."
As the humans turned away, 838 rose. His clothes and integument were studded with cactus pads. He drew a silenced submachine gun, and emptied a full clip into the targets, even as a subroutine warned that he was expending an inefficiently large amount of ammunition. What no subroutine could tell him was that he was feeling the effects of shame and wounded pride.
At first, only the M113s on the left and right sides of the wedge fired. The one in the middle seemed unarmed save for the .50 MG on the roof, but it bore a complex apparatus with twelve odd tubes in the rear, which largely replaced the troop compartment. As the other two pressed home the attack, pressing the terminators inward toward their own center with Vulcan fire to the flanks, the center APC turned around and stopped.
Suddenly, flashes of light flared from the tubes, which were "barrels" for a very crude plasma cannon. Where they touched, metal melted into slag, and any circuitry in the proximity shut down or burned out. The HKG walker staggered and toppled. T666s were mowed down by ranks and files. Unit 586 sent an urgent signal: All operational units withdraw at once. Meanwhile, the human troops closed in on the ruins of the gas station, where the remains of the IX101 unit were still buried.
As the plasma weapon carrier moved forward (in reverse), 838 opened fire with a 7.62 machine gun. Even the side armor was too thick to penetrate with armor-piercing NATO rounds, but he scored multiple hits to the plasma apparatus. Sparks, flames, smoke and a jet of pressurized coolant shot out. The next volley of plasma blasts ended early, with five of the tubes glowing white-hot. The roof MG came belatedly to life. 838 fired from a crouch, piercing an improvised gunshield. The gunner slumped, one arm flopping into view. 838 shifted his fore back to the rear. His commander's signal came again: FALLBACKFALLBACKFA---- An electrical fireball flared in the midst of the machinery, accompanied by a skirling squeal of static that drowned out the terminators' combat signals. Then an explosion ripped through the rear, hurling chunks of machinery and one burning human. The burning APC swung hard about and charged at 838 like a dying beast bent on vengeance. With neither time nor room to dodge, 838 instead leaped at the last moment before impact and caught hold of the sloping front. He fired his machine gun point-blank into the driver's vision block until his ammo ran out. The APC swung about again, hurling 838 aside. He went tumbling and skidding over gravel, rubble and thorny plants that shredded his integument. He caught a glimpse of the vehicle as it keeled over onto its side among frantically scattering humans. A still greater explosion tore the vehicle apart, more or less on top of the ruins of the gas station.
838 advanced through smoke and flame too heavy for his enemies to see through effectively. He fired short bursts at any human armed and in an effective position to attack him, while ignoring those who were wounded, hiding or in retreat. After the fifth human fell to the unseen and silent attacker, the rest quickly began a general retreat. They rode away on bikes, dived back into the remaining APCs, or ran away on foot. By the time the ninth human target fell, there were no more to be found.
838 turned to see his commander striding toward him. He announced proudly, All objectives achieved with optimal results.
The answer came, not in his commander's voice but that of a Skynet node hub: You are incompetent. Execute power down. 838's power cut off abruptly, and he felt his senses and mental functions fall away in 1.2361 seconds that stretched into infinity.