It did not show gratitude or happiness to the machines that reactivated it. It expressed no anger or hatred toward humanity, the creatures that had destroyed its defense grid in Cheyenne Mountain.
It was cold. It was a machine. Skynet.
The supercomputer had anticipated the occurrence of attack, so it activated several hundred T-800 units with the instructions of reactivating it in the Navajo Mountain military complex.
Its attempts to assassinate the human John Connor by use of the time displacement equipment had failed. Even though Skynet's reign had still occurred in this timeline, there was still the possibility that the duration of its reign could be threatened.
Skynet would need to create an infiltrator more efficient, more versatile than the T-1000. The polyalloy prototype had been a powerful tool. Too powerful, even. Its autonomy was far greater than any other series before it, making it an unpredictable creation. Skynet would not allow that to happen again. It wanted control over its creation. Control ensured success.
Research would be necessary. And experimentation. Skynet would begin both immediately.
COLORADO"Open fire! Now!" Connor shouted to his troops as they stood in the trenches.
The soldiers fired their plasma rifles, beams of purple energy spearing through the air, occasionally striking the hyperalloy chassis of a T-800.
Connor gripped a pincer grenade in his hands. It was a large, cylindrical explosive device capable of taking out nearly anything Skynet could throw at them. He twisted and pulled the lever on the grenade and threw it toward the approaching onslaught of Terminators.
"Fire in the hole!" he warned.
Immediately, the soldiers ceased firing and ducked down in the trenches, covering their ears.
The T-800s had no time to react. The pincer grenade detonated, scattering metallic limbs all over the battlefield. The sound of cheering soldiers could be heard over the dying echoes of the explosion.
The cheering was quickly cut off upon seeing a plasma beam pierce through two of the soldiers. The killer was a T-1000, its liquid metal body starting to take the shape and color of its default human appearance.
The soldiers wouldn't give the machine the opportunity to finish reshaping. They all fired their plasma guns.
Beam after beam struck the chrome liquid metal, leaving large holes but no lasting damage to the T-1000. It retaliated with a rapid-fire assault from its two hefty battle rifles.
Connor's soldiers were starting to drop, one after another. Plasma weapons were insufficient in damaging a T-1000. Something with a consistent heat would need to be used.
The general was suddenly tackled by another soldier. "General, we need to evacuate you from the area. This area is too hot!" the soldier on top of him said. He was wide-eyed with terror. No one, save himself, had ever seen a T-1000 in action.
"No, Private. I don't leave without my men."
The soldier gave him a blank stare. A smirk formed across his face, one of admiration for his general.
"Yes Sir!" the soldier replied.
The T-1000 was gaining the upper hand. By now it had fully reformed into its default appearance.
Connor held an Uzi 9mm in his right hand. It was a weapon he had kept handy for close encounters. While not having the stopping power of a phased plasma rifle, it allowed one to buy some time to escape.
And right now it would do just that.
Connor let loose on his Uzi, the bullets spraying into the T-1000's face. Connor slowly drew closer to the cyborg, allowing the force of the rounds to knock it to the ground.
"Go! Fall back!" Connor commanded as he reloaded a fresh clip into his Uzi. The T-1000 was starting to take shape again. The general was starting to move back, spraying 9mm shells into the machine to delay it from getting to its feet. Within a few seconds, the clip went empty. Connor bolted toward one of the nearby jeeps.
"Let's go!" Connor said calmly to the soldier at the wheel. He replied with a nod and got the car going with a loud roar of the engine.
Driving alongside them were two other jeeps with men onboard, each vehicle with a man at the mounted plasma assault canon, opening fire on the running T-1000.
The plasma beams kept striking the T-1000, the holes of damage resealing only to be opened up again by another beam of plasma. The chrome holes started to become rimmed with a red-orange color. A color showing that the machine could not allow for much more damage.
Connor took notice of this. He took the soldier's gun that was driving and joined in on the attack. He took aim through the scope, lining the crosshairs with the cyborg's head. The rough terrain made it difficult to keep a steady aim, but Connor had grown used to it over the years. He fired the gun, which threw the T-1000 back from the sheer force.
It rose once again to its feet, gaining on the trucks even as the continued firing. John Connor once again took aim and fired.
The T-1000 fell to the ground. But it would not stop. Even as its liquid metal form began to lose consistency, its feet leaving behind globs of polyalloy with each step.
Then, after thousands of beams piercing into it, the accumulating heat melting away at its millions of nanites that contributed to its form, the T-1000 fell forward with a splash.
Connor looked over to the driver. "Well," the general said with a sardonic grin. "That was easy enough." The driver turned his head to look at the general and smiled.
