Author's Note: This is a fanfiction I've been kicking around in my head for almost 8 years. I finally got the urge, time, and motivation to finish it. It's a series of introspectives from future John Connor's perspective. Hopefully you enjoy it.
Chapter 1: Chessboard
John Connor stood in the darkened underground bunker that served as his command center. Silence permeated the space, punctuated only by the occasional thump of landing ordnance, far away. He stood alone in the room, contemplating the table in front of him, his mind racing.
What is my next move?
The chessboard in front of him displayed a pitched battle between two masterful players. It was an incredibly un-subtle metaphor for the situation he found himself in. That he ALWAYS found himself in.
Pawns stood to the side of the board, along with a couple of knights, a bishop, and three rooks, belonging to both sides.
And the black king, the one belonging to John's side of the board, was hemmed in on every side. The white king, his opponent, was also cornered, but was not in direct threat.
It always turned out this way. Though John was getting better. Every time, the white king was threatened more and more. Each time, John was able to get to this point while sacrificing fewer and fewer pieces. Each time, he was able to get to the point where he almost had the opposing king cornered quickly and efficiently enough to end the game in his favor.
It wasn't enough. It was never enough.
Though he always sent back a soldier or a robot with an objective to leave a chessboard in this very bunker with a specific layout, and even though he was always able to find the chessboard and decipher it, the new knowledge he'd gained on this go-round wasn't enough to beat Skynet. It's hard to win at chess when the opponent never runs out of pieces.
His own pieces though... those were limited in number. Far, far too limited. And unlike the endless waves of enemy pieces, each of his pieces was meaningful.
His mother had once told him that chess was like war. She'd also stressed that, unlike chess, pieces could be changed. Sides could be changed. Rules could be changed. He'd hoped that this would be the key to victory against the up-jumped chess computer formerly known as The Turk that had destroyed so much of the Earth.
He sighed, steeling himself for what he knew he had to do.
He pulled out an antique Kodak camera, took a picture of the chessboard in front of him, then tipped the king over and took the developing photograph from the camera. John Connor left the room to deliver the order.