Disclaimer: I do not own Terminator movies or the series or any of the characters.
Terminator: The John Connor Chronicles
She was standing, at the center, in front of the judge, the audience and the TV reporters. Her hands were handcuffed. Her hair was unkempt. She was a mess. She was a reproach. And the worst, she had dragged James Ellison alongside her.
"Sarah Jeanette Connor and James Marcus Ellison, you have been pledged guilty for the act of destroying the building of one of our leading technological companies in our state. How do you plead?" the judge asked.
Sarah sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. She was just tired, of life and everything. Only one good thing happened to her; John was not caught with her and Ellison. She could at least be thankful for that. She opened her eyes and glanced at Ellison besides her. He did not deserve this. She did not know how he would react.
"It's the machines. SkyNet or Kaliba or whatever that monster is called. We're innocent. It wasn't us who destroyed the building," Ellison stated. Sarah had to look disbelievingly at him. So, he finally cracked up, she thought.
The judge merely raised one eyebrow hearing Ellison's plead. "That, Mr. Ellison, is the same reason Sarah Connor had said years ago. Do you honestly think that we would buy that? Or do you wish to be put in a mental hospital instead of a jail? That would not work too."
Ellison sighed in disappointment.
"Your punishment will be four years in imprisonment," the judge decided, hitting his hammer on the desk three times.
How would they get out this time?
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil;
For You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
"Everything I do is for my son. I remember the joy I felt when he was born."
*Flashback to Sarah's Memory*
It was in the jungle of Central America. One woman, obviously an Amazonian, was helping Sarah through her labor. The sounds of baby crying was soon pierced the morning secara fonetik
"¡Qué hermoso bebé! You've got a healthy baby boy, senorita," the woman exclaimed. "Do you want to hold him?" she offered with thick her Spanish accent.
Sarah, still weak from her labor, smiled as she held her freshly washed newborn. "John. His name is John," she said to the woman. John's eyes opened for the first time and Sarah could see that they were green, just like hers.
"Where is the father?" the Amazonian asked, adoring the baby just like Sarah.
Sarah paused. She smiled a sad smile. "He couldn't be here now. But I'm sure he wished to see this," Sarah said softly. Unwillingly, a tear escaped her eyelid.
"For the first time, I knew how it felt to be a mother. But Kyle Reese never got to be a father."
*Flashback to Sarah's Memory*
"Tell me about my son," Sarah said.
Kyle Reese, with his soft smile, answered her, "He's about my height. He has your eyes."
"What's he like?" Sarah couldn't help but wonder about the son she had yet to have.
"You trust him. He's got a strength. I'd die for John Connor," Kyle Reese said, his devotion was clear.
"Well… at least I know what to name him," Sarah said, in an attempt to lighten the situation. "I don't suppose you know who the father is, so I won't tell him to get lost when I meet him?" Sarah wondered out loud.
It might be her imagination, but Sarah saw a flash across Kyle's eyes. Was it jealousy? "John never said much about him. I know he dies before the war."
"Wait. I don't want to know," Sarah said, a bit afraid of the fate that was laid out in her future.
"Kyle never knew. I wish he did, though. John's birth has compensated all the years of sufferings that awaited us in the future. The happiness of a mother was enough."
*Flashback to Sarah's Memory*
"Mommy! Would you look at this?" a three-year-old John Connor enthusiastically approached a younger Sarah Connor who was in a deep conversation with a smoking bulky old man.
"Wait a minute, dear. Can't you see that I'm in the middle of a conversation?" Sarah said, turning to look at John for a moment.
"Your son, Sarah?" the old man smiled at John kindly, or at least what he thought was kind. His teeth were mostly rotten and the smokes that came off from his nostrils weren't any good help either.
Sarah plastered a forced smile on her face. This man could harm her son. It would be better if he didn't know that she had a son at all. "Yes. May I have a moment, please?" she said, tightly. Then she quickly secluded her son and herself in a private place.
"What have I told you to stay at our camp?" she said, condescendingly.
"Sorry, mom," John apologized, looking embarrassed. "I just need to show you this." John took out an M-16 service rifle, which he had been hiding behind his back, and was way too big for him. Sarah had to laugh at this.
"It's an M-16. What are you going to do about it?" Sarah asked, amused by her son's antics.
"It's jammed," John exclaimed, as though it was a big revelation to her.
"Yeah, it's jammed. Here, let me help you," Sarah offered her hands to take the rifle. John shook his head.
"No, mom. See?" he said as he field stripped the rifle in less than five seconds. "I can do it!"
Sarah only smiled softly at her son. "Good job, John. I'm proud of you," she said. She hugged him.
"I tried to be a good mother for him. I know I wasn't the perfect mother, but that's all I could do. That's all I could give."
*Flashback to Sarah's Memory*
"John, we can't…," she trailed off.
"He's got her chip. He's got her, mom," her son said desperately. From that moment she knew, that he was in love with her. Sarah closed her eyes. She stepped back from the platform.
"I'll stop it," she said, trying to keep her voice strong.
"I somehow know that I wouldn't survive to meet him, with all the cancer and law enforcements. It was the last gift I could give to him. Stopping Judgment Day. Although I don't know how."
Sarah Connor's Voice Over
"Listen, Connor. I'm not about to get some shit out of an irritating teenager like you. Now, let's make this easy," William said once they were in a private area.
John crossed his arms. "Well, what do you want to know?"
"Like who are you and where are you from? I know that you're not any ordinary teenager I've met and seen," Nilsons said crisply.
"Like I said, my name is John Connor. I'm… from somewhere around here. What makes you think like that?" John asked.
"Something just seems off about you," Nilsons stated, surprising John. "Let's just say that 'some sixteen years old kid had just made a successful plan to take over the Century Work Camp' is true. What is the plan anyway?"
John thought for a moment, debating whether to tell Nilsons the truth or not. The truth was that Dyson had played a major part of the plan. He just couldn't tell everyone that he had had some help from one of the grays.
"It just happens, you know," John started lamely. "When there is enough motivation and anger of the people, you can practically do anything. Besides, there was a coincidence that there weren't a lot of machines and grays guarding this place. It's mainly luck," he concluded.
Nilsons stared at John hard, analyzing whether he was telling the truth or not. Finally, he relented. "Fine. Your story is believable. Now the problem is, how do we convince the other members out there? You know that we are in desperate need of some leader here, and I really don't think that you're convenient enough to be as they're expecting. I mean, we thought that John Connor is someone older."
"Mr. Nilsons, if you want to be the leader of this base, just say it right away," interrupted John.
Nilsons seemed flushed. "Smart ass," he muttered. "Well, the majority of the people will certainly vote you," he said.
"They won't if I don't want to," John replied.
Nilsons's face seemed to light up. "Alright then. I'll go inside to start a meeting with the adults. At least I know that I have your full support regarding who's to be the leader of this base. See you then," he said and went back inside.
"I really want to go home," John muttered to himself quietly.
The facility that Sky Net had given to each of its posts was simply amazing. The humans had to admit that. Even Sky Net had put a lot of effort in human standard to set up its concentration camps. Savannah Weaver could see why the grays were so loyal with Sky Net. She was wandering around their now base, searching for certain someone. The meeting room that they recently had used proved how sophisticated the facility that Sky Net had set up. It used to be the main controller room of the camp, located at the center of the camp. It had several CPUs and small monitors, and there was a large monitor located above the head chair. It must have been the way Sky Net gave orders to its division.
Savannah and the others adults had never tried to turn on those computers. It was too much of a risk. They couldn't afford to risk the recently taken over camp just to gain information from the computers. Even Alex Akagi, the one who seemed to know all about computers, didn't dare to try.
The other rooms were just as important as the main controller room. The camp was huge. It had a modern and slightly dirty kitchen; an underground surveillance room; a highly secured large room filled with beds, mattress and other grays' precious possessions; a store room full of boxes of metal endoskeleton parts; three bathroom with surprisingly, and to the humans' delight, intact showers; and of course, the front yard of the building with chain-link fences for the human prisoners, which was obviously the main part of the camp. In addition to those, Savannah found out, a large incinerator which without doubt was used to incinerate the humans. Savannah knew that they would eventually end up there had not they taken over the camp.
The camp was crowded. People started to associate with the prisoners from other cells. Some were using the mattress – not beds; they had not used a bed for years and they couldn't make themselves to settle in one anymore – to sleep. Some were gathering in the kitchen, which was pretty large, eating canned foods that were meant for the grays. Males and females, young and old; there was no difference here.
Yet, the base really needed to be organized. Savannah frowned as she saw the people in the kitchen pushed, and even fought with one another to get food. There were no authority figures to organize them. That was the issue that they would really need to solve soon or later. It would become a major problem soon.
Savannah found him near the entrance gates of the camp, talking with a girl she did not know about. John looked about the same as she last saw him. It was unnerving. She approached the two.
"…I mean, they don't even respect our opinion. It can't always be like this, right?" Savannah heard the voice of the blond-haired girl getting louder as she walked closer to them.
"I don't know, honestly. We'll just have to wait, I suppose," John replied.
The girl made an impatient sound. She looked around and saw Savannah approaching. "Um, hello?" she said unsurely.
"Hi. Can I talk to John one moment, please?" Savannah said bluntly. The blonde and John exchanged glances.
"Sure."
"No problem."
Seeing John's raised eyebrows, she turned away and motioned for John to follow her. She brought him to a fairly secluded area, where no one would not be bothered to overhear their conversation. She turned to face him.
"You're the red-haired woman from the meeting, right?" John began.
Savannah resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Hell, yes. What else am I supposed to be?"
"Well, if you're gonna talk about the voting anymore-'
"-No, it's not about the voting," Savannah interrupted before John could finish his sentence. "You really don't remember me, do you?"
John, confused with her question and the way she glanced hopefully at him, could only answer, "…No. Have we ever met before?"
"Look at me," Savannah said, a bit disappointed.
John was now very confused by whatever this woman in front of him was doing. "Okay," he said finally, and hesitantly. She was pretty beautiful for a woman who lived as a survivor post a nuclear war. Sure, she was dirty and half-starved like the others. Her supposed to be red hair was almost brown due to the amount of dust and dirt that had settled themselves on her hair. "You look familiar," John said. Something was indeed familiar about her. The way she looked, smiled and spoke; it reminded John of…
It reminded John of… none other than Catherine Weaver herself. So the woman in front of him must be…
"Savannah?" he said, surprised.
"Oh God, finally you remember," she said with a laugh. "It's been too long, isn't it? Way too long."
"You look just like your mother," John exclaimed excitedly.
Those were the wrong things to say, apparently. Savannah's expression suddenly darkened. "Which one did you refer to? My REAL mother or that bitch who pretended to be her?"
The change of mood was absurd.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"-You know her, don't you?" Savannah interrupted sharply.
"Yes, I last met her before Century," John said.
Savannah snorted. "She's a traitor, you know? Oh wait, it is a traitor. It's a terminator, right? James tried to hide it but I knew the truth anyway. You shouldn't trust it."
John rolled his eyes. "Thanks, mom," he said sarcastically. "Look, I don't know what her true motives are, but she doesn't seem to work for Sky Net anyway. The enemy of my enemy is my friend."
"Just… just don't involve it in your resistance, okay?"
"My resistance? Who even said that I'm going to lead a resistance?" John asked, a bit incredulous.
"Don't play dumb at me, John. I know about your destiny," Savannah said.
"Please, that destiny is off-limit. There is no fate but what we make for ourselves, right? I've forsaken my destiny. I can do it again and just be an ordinary soldier," John said.
Savannah shrugged. "I don't know about that. We'll just wait and see, I suppose, who you're going to be."
"I think I'm going to be just a resistance fighter. No expectation, fate, prophecy, or whatever anymore," John grinned.
"Yeah. But you've got to explain everything to me how you got here. I haven't got the full story."
"Fine. Let's start."
To Be Continued
Author's Note: As always, feedbacks are definitely welcome...
