A/N: Hi there! This is a Captain Swan AU based off the 1984 movie The Terminator. For those who have seen the movie, I have played around with a few bits so not everything may play out the same as in the movie.

This is a story which involves time travel. The events of this story take place across two main time periods; the dystopian future in 2029 and then the world that we know back in 1984. The early chapters go back and forth between these years so I have provided clarification of the year before each scene to ensure its clear. Events that take part in any other year are character flashbacks and written in italics, but again I will state the year to ensure the events chronology doesn't get too confusing.

Without any further ado, I hope you enjoy…


The Huntsman

One

Resistance Headquarters, 2029

"We move out in T-minus sixty minutes! Prepare yourselves for the final battle, for tonight we finally take back our world from the machines! After tonight, we shall no longer live in fear of be hunted. We shall no longer be forced to hide ourselves away underground like rats to survive. Tomorrow, we will rebuild our world and our lives, but tonight; we fight for them!"

Sergeant Killian Jones watched from afar as Major General David Nolan rallied the troops that made up his unit. The soldiers around him cheered in response, banging against the damp metal walls which enforced the underground tunnels they all referred to as home. They were living conditions which elder members of the Resistance regularly bemoaned, torturing themselves with stories of their grand and luxurious homes before the world had fallen apart. Killian had never known such grandeur. To him, the quarters of the Resistance was luxury compared to some of the hellholes he had previously endured.

Killian turned away from Nolan and his unit in frustration. His former unit had been assigned to the assault on Dark-Knight's central core. The ultimate assault. The one which would finally take down the rule of the machines. His own unit were sidelined, assigned an assault on a simple work camp, far away from the big fight.

He ran his thumb over the aged picture in his hand. The color was faded, the corners turning in on themselves and beginning to tear away. Despite the damage, it was in good condition given its age. He had taken good care of it. The photograph had become one of Killian's most precious belongings; just like his brother's ring, it went everywhere with him. He didn't even know the woman in the photograph, at least not personally. Everyone knew of the woman who had come to be fondly referred to as the Mother of the Resistance. She had died, before he had even been born, but she was remembered a hero. Without her, the Resistance would never have come together. Without her, the dystopian world would have been one without hope.

Many a night, he had spent staring into her green eyes, eyes which weren't looking into the lens. It was a candid shot, one taken when she was staring into the distance, appearing deep in thought. Killian had always sensed a hint of sadness in the eyes he so regularly found himself list in, occupying many sleepless nights wondering what she was thinking of in that moment. Even resigning himself to the fact that he would never know, Killian could never bring himself to part with the photograph.

Carefully, he returned the photograph to his inner pocket then grabbed his gun off the floor beside him. A new determination surged through him as he pushed himself onto his feet. The Mother of the Resistance had been a woman of action. Everything she had accomplished with her life had led up to the upcoming Final Battle. He refused to sit on the side lines for it. He stalked over to Nolan who was helping to hand out plasma ammunition to those in his unit who needed extra. Killian reached out to take the one in Nolan's hand but the Major General caught sight of him, pulling his hand back before Killian could get hold of the ammunition.

"Jones. This isn't your unit anymore," Nolan reminded him, as if Killian could forget that. He'd transferred units over two years ago. "Not your mission."

"I want in," Killian requested, his determination clear in his tone. "The fight is in New York. Not here."

"It's not my call," Nolan sighed regrettably, an understanding look on his face. He knew Killian. The younger man had been a teenager when he had first joined his unit. David had watched him grow from a teenager angry at the world into a young man who used his experiences to shape himself into the skilled solider which earned him his position in the General's Tech-Com unit. Killian wasn't one to back down from a fight and David wasn't surprised to find him frustrated at being left out of the main assault. "You'll have to take it up with the General."

Questioning the General's decision was not a typical occurrence amongst members of the Resistance. The General was a living legend. She had built the Resistance up from nothing, encouraging survivors of the nuclear blasts to rise up against the machines. She had provided hope for the future when the human race had needed it most. Somehow, she seemed to know everything she needed to know about the machines and key moments in the fight against them. There were whispers amongst the Resistance that she was some kind of prophet. Everything she ever said would happen had come to pass. She had certainly earned the right not to have her decisions questioned.

Killian, however, had never been too good with authority and he wasn't prepared to miss out on the biggest fight in Resistance history. His own relationship with the General was a different one to that of his peers. She had once saved his life back when he was a teenager, taking him under her wing and becoming a mentor figure in his life when he needed it most. Over the years, he had come to know her well and, despite her possessing the highest rank in the Resistance, he wasn't afraid to question her.

He knew exactly where she was. It was well known that the General had a few words to say before the units dispersed for the Final Battle. He marched down the narrow corridor, happening across the General at a junction where two tunnels met.

"Ma'am," he greeted her with a respectful nod, one she returned with a small smile before she turned and started heading for the briefing room. Killian followed after her. "Request to join Major General Nolan's one-hundred-and-thirty-second unit on the New York offensive."

The General didn't even take a moment to consider his request. "No can do. I need you with me, Jones," she turned his request down without a second thought.

"This is the complete destruction of Dark-Knight that we're talking about here, Ma'am," Killian felt the need to remind her. Weirdly and extremely frustratingly, she didn't seem to appreciate that fact. "I need to see it succeed."

"The New York units will succeed. The machines will fall tonight." General Swan assured him. Her confidence was so high it sounded like she was talking in facts. "I can assure you, Jones, you won't be doing nothing. The assault here in Maine is just as important. More so, I'd argue."

Killian stared at her, momentarily questioning just how terrible the Resistance's luck was for their General to lose her mind on the eve of the final battle. "How the bloody hell can anything be more important than destroying Dark-Knight's central core?" He challenged her, all formalities disintegrating in his growing frustration.

The General stopped in her tracks in the narrow corridor, turning to face him. She wasn't a stranger to his frustrated outbursts but she didn't need it to be overheard by any of the soldiers who had already gathered within the briefing room.

At her sudden half Killian appeared to catch himself and sighed, "I just can't understand why you're leading an assault on a work camp tonight of all nights. Shouldn't we be focusing all our forces on the central core in New York?"

"Because that work camp is camouflage," the General revealed. "Dark-Knight thinks it is a step ahead of us. It has a contingency plan. A final weapon. One it will deploy when it realises that it has lost. The weapon is its final chance to ensure its survival. It's a deadly weapon which could destroy everything the Resistance has fought so hard for. We have to take it tonight or the victory in New York will be for nothing."

The General sure did have a knack for motivational speeches. "Then we take it," Killian agreed, accepting his role in her plan. Major General Nolan and his unit would be leaving for New York without him. His place was in Maine. "And we ensure the world is rid of Dark-Knight once and for all."

His resolute statement was received with an absent-minded nod from the General. "I've never had the chance to thank you, Jones, for everything," she told him.

"Me?" Killian scoffed, shaking his head. "You're the one who should – and will – be on the receiving end of all the appreciation. You inspired hope in the darkest of times and tonight, you'll lead us to victory. Because of you, we all have a future."

The General dropped her head, breaking eye contact with him.

"I don't know about you but I sure as hell am going to use mine to honor the loss of all those I lost along the way," Killian told her, subconsciously running his thumb over his brother's ring. "To get through the cold nights, Liam and I use to come up with plans which seemed unfathomable at the time. Our father always told us about a lake house his grandparents once owned. He described this amazing feeling he used to get out on the lake. Liam and I used to talk about experiencing that feeling. So once this is done, and Dark-Knight is a thing of history, I'm finding myself a lake house and a boat, even if I have to build both from scratch."

He gave her plenty to respond to, even the chance for her to dive into her own plans for the world after the defeat of the machines, but the General had no response. They fell into a strange, sudden silence, bringing Killian's attention to the noise resounding out from the briefing room at the end of the corridor. During the time in which they'd been talking, the large open area had quickly been filled by Resistance members, eager to hear from the General.

In her own time, the General picked up on the buzz of anticipation radiating out of the briefing room. Absent-mindedly, she glanced down the corridor at the gathered crowd. Or rather, Killian noticed, she looked past them. It was like she wasn't quite in the moment. Her thoughts were clearly elsewhere. She turned back to him, her blue eyes meeting his blue ones. "Before this all goes down, Killian, I need you to know, if there were any other way, I would have taken it," she spoke, heavy with regret.

The moment the words came out of the General's mouth, she was able to recompose herself. In an instant, she radiated that familiar confidence once more, carrying herself with purpose as she ventured down the corridor to address the gathered crowd. Killian remained stood in place, staring after her, perplexed and concerned by her words which hung ominously in the air.

A hushed silence fell among the gathered crowd when the General stepped out into the view of the Resistance fighters. All eyes were on her immediately.

"Our fight against the machines has raged on for over thirty years now. Tonight, we put an end to it!" Her opening statement earned loud cheers from the crowd. When she continued, her tone was heavily solemn. "When I look around this room, I see all the sacrifices that we have experienced, or made ourselves, to get this far. Sacrifices that we have made so that our own children and future generations will not have to experience the world that we have. So that they can have freedom and happiness. But the events of tonight and the sacrifices which fuelled them will never be forgotten. We will be remembered for refusing to back down! For rising up! And for taking back the world they tried to take from us! They failed to wipe us out! We will wipe them out!"

-The Huntsman-

Dark-Knight Facility, Maine, 2029

Killian stood in the middle of the impromptu battle ground which was the courtyard of the Dark-Knight's Maine work camp. Plasma shots rang out around him as he and some of his fellow soldiers held their positions of cover behind a dropped Hunter Guard. The large metal aerial autonomous machine had been blown out of the sky by the Resistance when they had first charged upon the Dark-Knight facility. Flames crept out of the destroyed machine and Killian could feel the heat radiating off the metal.

Finger hovering over the trigger of his gun, Killian briefly glanced over the immobilised Hunter Guard, laying out fire in the general direction of the enemy machines to cover himself, as he reconned the force they were up against. He dropped back down behind the Hunter Guard to report back to the soldiers around him.

"The General was right," Killian told them, though that wasn't new information. She had never steered them wrong before. "This isn't just a work camp. It's too heavily defended."

From his rough estimations and the little he had seen, the two opposing sides appeared to boast similar numbers. In his brutally honest assessment, Killian could tell they were on the back foot. It was much easier to pierce human flesh than the metal exoskeleton casings of the various models of machines they were up against. The machines were pulling out all the stops to defend the enclosed final weapon, calling on the very early models of killing machines to protect their building. The machines had positioned themselves in a line, forming a blockade between the building and the Resistance fighters, slowing advancing and fanning out to put pressure on the soldiers.

A blue light pulsed out from the Dark-Knight facility, flooding the dimly lit battle ground with bright, almost blinding light.

"The final weapon!" Killian heard the General call out, though he couldn't possibly see where she was. "They're using it. We have to get to it!"

As the light died down, Killian heard a shout of pain, closely followed by a thud from the other side of the Hunter Guard. Calling out for some cover fire, he poked his head over the top of the defeated aerial machine once again.

"Smee," Killian muttered to himself, instantly recognising the man. Resistance living conditions were small and cramped, consisting of a bed and, for the lucky few, some kind of storage unit. Walls between beds were few and far between – a luxury for higher-ranking members of the Resistance – and Killian would argue he knew his neighbor far too well.

Said neighbor lay on the dusty ground, a few feet on the opposite side of the Hunter Guard which Killian had dropped back down behind. Smee was alive, conscious but withering in pain as he grasped his right shoulder. Getting hit with a plasma ray burned.

"Maintain cover fire!" Killian ordered the soldiers around him. Smee was a sitting duck lying out there and he wasn't going to let him die without trying to help. "Whale!" Killian called out, his eyes falling on the Resistance medic not too far behind him. The older man looked up at him and Killian beckoned him over. "Man down over this HG," he filled him in quickly before addressing the small group of soldiers pinned behind the Hunter Guard with him. "Cover us, we're going round. Starkey! Mullins! Flank us!"

The four emerged from behind the Hunter Guard. Killian charged towards Smee, Whale hot on his heels whilst shots rang out all around them.

"I can't treat him here," Whale told Killian as they reached Smee. "It's too exposed."

A fully operational Hunter Guard dived down out of the night sky, appearing from nowhere, reigning fire down on the soldiers providing their cover fire. "Shit!" Killian exclaimed as their cover's attention understandably turned onto the machine above their heads. If they were exposed before, they were sitting targets with the latest development. "We need to move," Killian agreed with Whale, firing his own gun at the approaching machines firing upon them.

In a surprising show of adrenaline, Whale pulled Smee to his feet in one movement, taking the injured man's weight against his free shoulder as he fired his gun in his other hand.

"Starkey, help Whale!" Killian ordered, the soldier responding immediately, helping Smee whilst continuing to shoot back. Killian's eyes darted around for much needed cover, falling on the work camp's outhouse. He ran to it immediately, blasting the lock to pieces with a shot from his plasma gun which allowed him to kick the door open with ease.

Mullins darted inside first, his gun at the ready as the interior lights flickered on. Killian turned, pressing his back up against the wall of the outhouse and laying down cover fire as Whale, Smee and Starkey hurried over as fast as they could manage. Only once the three had gotten through the door did Killian slip in after them, slamming the door forcibly shut behind him.

Killian held the door in place, not daring to barricade it until the received the shout, "Clear!" from Mullins. The moment it came, the nearest table to him was pulled right across the door, holding it shut.

"That isn't going to last long," Killian pointed out to them as he turned around. "We need-"

He trailed off, staring in horror at the sight which befell him. In front of him was a metal table, surrounded by various high-tech operating equipment. On the table lay the remains of a body. At first, Killian had mistaken it for a Huntsman – one of the latest models of machines Dark-Knight had developed, and by far the most dangerous. The Huntsman was a machine, microprocessor controlled just like the rest, except it's endoskeleton was covered in real tissue. On the outside, a Huntsman looked human. The perfect infiltration machine. The perfect killing machine. The body on the table was cut open in many areas, revealing what looked to be the same hyper-alloy combat chassis synonymous with a Huntsman. Upon closer inspection there was an obvious difference. The chest area was cut open and the metal surgically implanted in the body encased a still, lifeless heart. Huntsmen – and all Dark-Knight machines – did not have hearts.

The body on the table was human.

Killian hurried to the screen beside the operating table, pulling up details of the planned operation. "Augmentation," he muttered as his eyes scanned over the plans on the screen. "The next step in the evolution of Dark-Knight's machines. Take prisoners, place a chip in their head and turn them into the ultimate infiltration machine."

Thud.

The door shuddered as it just about managed to withstand the blast of a machine's gun. The sudden noise brought the Resistance soldiers' attention back to their more pressing issue at the time.

"That door is not going to hold much longer," Killian commented warningly.

"This door's jammed," Starkey added from his failed attempts to pull open what looked to be a back door to the outhouse building.

"Scavenge what you can from that pile of spare parts," Killian instructed Mullins and Starkey, pointing to a heap of machine parts in the corner of the room. Even from the other side of the room, he could spot some weapons in amongst the pile. "They must work if they were going to use them."

Thud.

The door looked close to caving.

"You should have just left me," Smee muttered as Whale hurriedly worked away at his shoulder, placing a pack on it.

"Never going to happen, mate," Killian responded as he took up position at the door, bracing himself for its imminent destruction. "Until this war is over, you're stuck with me. Like it or not."

Thud.

The blast impacted against the door, blowing a large hole in it. Killian found himself face to face with a machine, staring into its lifeless bright red eyes. Killian's lone shot did very little to indent the machine's exoskeleton as, as the machine raised its own gun, Killian stood his ground, accepting the inevitable result and defiantly staring down the barrel of its gun.

He waited, expecting to hear the sound of the click of a trigger before the end. Instead, there was a whirr of machinery, the haunting red eyes disintegrated and the machine collapsed to the floor. Killian had to do a double take as all the machines gathered behind it endured the same fate.

"New York unit reporting in." Killian recognised Major General Nolan's voice over the comms. "Dark-Knight's central core has been taken. I repeat, Dark-Knight's central core has been destroyed."

Killian stepped over the lifeless exoskeleton of the machine which had been moments from killing him. He could hardly believe what he was seeing or hearing. The machines had ruled the world for more than thirty years and, suddenly, almost unceremoniously, they were gone. Victory was a weird feeling in the circumstances. It felt almost dream-like and he had a feeling it would take a bit of time to sink in.

Emerging back out into the fresh air, Killian's eyes fell on the Dark-Knight facility building from which the blue pulsing light had erupted from only a few minutes ago. "What the bloody hell was that light?" Killian questioned. For a final weapon, it had appeared to be pretty damn useless, not that he was complaining.

"The final weapon," the General reiterated again, letting out a resigned sigh, as she made her presence known from behind him. "They used it just in time. This is far from over."