A/N: Finally….done…. This chapter took a bit longer to write and publish as we're about six days over the usual publication date. Very sorry about that.
But I do happen to be a busy guy with a busy life and unfortunately, this takes second place. Not to mention I had lately gotten back into my main story project series,
"PAW Patrol First Response"
and that took a bit of time for me to tell myself "No! You said you'd focus on this project for now and you have to keep your word. Besides, everybody seems to like this story more anyway."
(Disclaimer) This chapter is longer than the others. Reading in one sitting may result in fatigue, so get comfortable.
Anywho…here's Chapter 3. Enjoy!
"Ay, Pascal! Are you sure you have everything?" A woman yelled to her husband over the bombarding noise of the thousands of people gathered on the pier.
Her husband, Pascal, struggled to keep within range of her, having to push past people while keeping the suitcases and coats within his grasp, yelling out to her, "Yes, dearest… Now would you please keep walking? The ship is bound to leave us provided we continue at this speed!"
Mara gave her husband a scowling look, not quite appreciating his smart remark but continued on walking, knowing he was right. The ship had already given its three whistles, letting the passengers know to board, so they knew they were on borrowed time.
They approached the gangway but only to see a large line of immigrants such as themselves all lined up and boarding the stern portion of the ship.
Though every single one was extremely poor, they didn't care. Each and every one of them looked happy and full of joy, excited for their new lives in America… the 'Land Of Opportunity'.
Looking over to the left, Mara could see the second Class Passengers boarding with relative ease, considering they were the minority of the ship.
Mara felt herself a bit annoyed with Pascal, who could've bought Second Class tickets for a mere twenty pounds more and saved this boarding process headache…not to mention that they wouldn't have had to share a cabin.
Mara shuddered at the thought of what could possibly be sharing that cabin with them.
Pascal noticed her body language and touched her shoulder, saying, "What's the matter? Have you caught a case of the shivers? Or did you realize how much mischief the Wilmington kids are going to get themselves into without your guidance?" He said, jokingly.
Mara stared at him sternly, causing him to stop talking and look at the floor.
-Flashback-
The Willmington children: Milton, Alexandra and Curt were delightful children, but they, like any other seven year old children, had big imaginations…which unfortunately had no place among the world of their wealthy, miserable parents.
Though the children truly never did anything wrong, they were dealt with the utmost severity. A simple childish prank like that of a mild jump from a bush would result in a harsh spanking.
Now, Mara of course knew the importance of discipline, but the children were always on their best behavior when it came to important social events, no matter how many of them there were.
In school, they did exceptionally well, each earning A averages in Literacy, Mathematics and Social Studies. They were respectful and obedient and always did what they were told.
When Mara was't busy feeding them, bathing them or clothing them, she would take them on outings. And 90% of the time, Pascal would drive them around in their employer's fancy motorcar. Sometimes Pascal, being the leadfoot he was, would even speed above the law…
It was so exciting, breaking the law. Going at unheard-of speeds… almost thirty-five miles per hour!
In spending time with them, Pascal and Mara had truly come to know and love the children as their own…they truly seemed perfect.
But not to their parents, who constantly took them for granted, endlessly corrected them for every little thing like criminals…
Their crime:
They were children.
Two months ago, they had been out in the winter cold building a snowman, the five of them.
Mara, Pascal and the children sat in the blistering winter cold laughing and playing, unfazed by the unforgiving winter cold.
When they were finally done, they sent the children to show their father, hoping he would be impressed… But they were wrong.
Upon seeing the snowman, the father flew into a fit of rage, upset that they had "Obstructed the pathway" and were "Spending their time uselessly". After berating them, he kicked down their snowman, causing the little girl to cry.
Mara sat there helplessly, having no idea what to do. But it was Pascal that caused the biggest surprise.
While Mara was usually the firecracker of the couple, Pascal was usually a calm, collected individual who didn't argue or fight with anyone. But the sight of Alexandra crying broke his heart, causing him to fly into a rage.
He began yelling and screaming back at the master, cursing him out and telling him he was unfit to have those children.
Mr. Wilmington, not being used to ever being talked back to, struck Pascal across the face.
But instead of falling and groveling, Pascal struck him back, hard. His fist flew into his face and made a slight crunching sound and he hit him with all the force he had.
The fat man stumbled backwards as Pascal continued striking him over and over again repeatedly until he finally fell with a "THUD".
-Present Day-
Pascal was snapped out of his thoughts as another powerful whistle blasted throughout the air, reminding all passengers of the ship's soon coming departure.
The passengers all looked up the gangplank to check the amount of people in front of them, a few of them groaned as it went through their minds that they might not be allowed on due to the amount of people trying to board.
After a grueling process of waiting for each and every 3rd Class Passenger to be admitted, they were finally tended to and allowed on board with a fate changing stamp.
Mara and Pascal stumbled aboard with their baggage onto the 3rd Class Promenade Deck, trying to get past the nearly uncountable crowd of people.
Looking around, it was almost overbearing how many people were on the top decks. Had Mara not known about the above average strength of the ship, she would have been worried that the wooden facade would have broken underneath all of the weight.
Everyone stood near the edges, waving and yelling to their loved ones down below on the pier. A few men even threw their hats overboard.
The amount of excitement and electricity was astounding. And Mara wanted no part of it.
"Oy, Pascal! Let's get to our rooms. Too much clutter about here." She said,
"What? But what about the cast off?" He asked, bewildered.
"Nevermind the cast off. I don't care much for the crowd. I can barely hear you as it is." She said, having to somewhat yell.
"N'importe quoi… You're always so suspicious. You need to live a little, love." He said, ignoring her request.
"But Pascal!..." She tried to insist, but he put up his hand, interrupting her.
"No Mara. I want to watch the cast off. This is the biggest, most famous ship in the world and we have the rare privilege to be part of the first ones to ever experience its luxury. We'll be the first ever ones to sleep in the beds that we are going to sleep in. The first ones to eat from the silverware. The first ones to see sights and hear sounds that no one will ever experience for the first time like us. We are going to be the first one's to do basically everything…and I want the whole experience." Pascal, being unusually stern.
Mara, peeved at his rare stubbornness, huffed. "Well if you wanted the full experience…you would have bought First Class tickets." She snipped, before walking away.
Pascal looked over to her and called out to her, but she had already gone down the 3rd Class entryway.
Same Time: Portside Pier
"Alright men, get these ropes untethered! This tub's gotta be out of here in the next ten minutes!" A commanding officer called to his workers.
The workers, all of which gruff looking White Star Line workers, nodded and got to work.
The officer turned back to a few of the men he had been previously talking with before he gave the order and was unaware of the approaching figure in the distance.
The workers all ran to and from, untying the massive ropes that kept the enormous ship from drifting away from the pier.
It was one of the crewmen that finally noticed the blonde young man approaching quickly.
"Oy mate! This is a restricted area, get away from here!" He called out.
The man seemed to ignore and walked right past him towards the ship's gangplank.
The crewmate ran up beside him and grabbed him by the shoulder. "Ay! What're you, deaf? I said-..." He started to say before the man grabbed him by his shirt and thrustfully flung him, resulting in his hard landing over 15 feet away.
The officer turned around and with his men confronted the man, gun drawn.
"Listen here, ruffian. This ship's about to coast off and you're stopping us from doing our job and that is unacceptable. Now beat it before we take more aggressive measures." He threatened.
The T-850 recognized this aggression and tried a different approach.
"I'm sorry. I've just been trying to get here all day and nothing's worked out. Guess I just lost my temper. I have a ticket on board this ship." The T-850 said handing the officer his tickets, his expression softened and friendly.
The officer took the tickets and looked them over suspiciously.
"Cabin G-60… Third Class." The officer read aloud and then stopped talking for a moment, seeming to think it over.
The T-850 said nothing as he analyzed the officer's speech and emotional patterns, getting ready to push past him if he answered wrong.
Finally the officer looked up from the tickets and at his face, saying, "Have you any luggage with you?"
"No sir. I lost that too on my way here… All I have is the clothes on my back and a hope to start over in America." The T-850 said, straining an exasperated tone.
"Alright, boy. I'll cut you a break… We haven't closed the gangway door just yet. Do you think you can make that jump?" The officer asked, pointing towards the gap between the passenger bridge and the open gangway door.
The T-850 calculated the gap distance multiplied by a 7 MPH run speed would land him safely on board the ship with a five foot gap distanced from the water li-...
"Hey, son. Can you make the jump or not?" The officer asked, getting impatient.
"Affirmative." The T-850 said, interrupted from his calculations.
"What the bloody hell does that mean? That German or something?" The officer asked, weirded out by the man.
"I mean… Yes. I can make the jump." The T-850 stuttered, reminding himself to update his vocal speech patterns for 1912.
"Alright. Then when you get aboard, show them your ticket and tell them Greg Falarson sent you. Now get going." He said.
The T-850 nodded and thanked him before breaking into a burst of speed towards the gangway bridge and leaped aboard.
The crew members aboard the ship did a double take as the T-850 seemed to just appear out of nowhere.
"Hey! What'ya think you're doing? And where in the fiery red hell did you come from?!" He asked, bewildered.
"Officer Greg Falarson was kind enough to send me aboard at last minute." The T-850 explained, pulling out his tickets.
The crew member scratched his head, examining the tickets. "Alright. They're good. Follow Micheal here to the third class area. He'll take you to your cabin."
The T-850 nodded thankfully and followed the worker through the white passageways of Scotland Road from the midway of the ship to the Stern area and up a few flights of stairs before arriving at the Third Class well deck area.
The well deck was still flooded with people, all waiting for the ship to finally leave.
The T-850 noticed the time on his built-in HUD system was 11:54, it would only be a few minutes before the ship left.
"Is this the well deck?" The T-850 asked, already knowing the answer based off of his detailed schematics of the ship.
"Yes, it is."
"Then I'll stay here for now. I'll find my cabin later on my own. Thank you." The T-850 said.
"Alright. Enjoy yourself." The crew worker said.
"I will, thank you." He said, turning his attention to the crowds of passengers.
The T-850 scanned the entirety of the crowds, identifying each person's facial features. Many of those he saw were families laughing and playing aboard the decks, excited to start their new lives in America.
And it then occurred to him. This lifeless, emotionless killing machine realized that in a few days…all of this would be gone.
These people, these families were all near the end of their lives…and didn't even know it. And how could they? This ship was a beacon of hope and grandeur. Deemed unsinkable by every ship builder and aristocrat in the world.
There simply wasn't even a thought that anything bad could possibly happen aboard this floating metropolis of a ship…and yet. It wouldn't even make it to its first destination.
This ship. These people. All would be gone.
But it was none of his business.
Sure, he could very easily save all of them.
Since warning the captain and crew would do nothing, he would simply seize control of the ship at the last minute and either steer away early or ram the ship against the iceberg all together and save everyone… but he wouldn't, couldn't.
This wasn't his mission. His objective was to save the Conniere's. That was his sole purpose for existing at this moment and was his only care.
He continued to search the decks before hearing the ear splitting blare of whistles once more as the ship began to cast off.
He felt the mighty behemoth begin to drift away from the pier and move sideways towards the open ocean.
The machine took a moment to acknowledge the sounds surrounding him, from that of the waves being parted by the massive ship to the obnoxious seagulls flying overhead.
He looked all around, taking in the sights before his HUD finally flashed red.
There, standing near the guard rail was a man. His 5,11 height, 190 lbs weight and facial features all met the description of Pascal Conniere.
The T-850 made his way over and stood near the guard rail, pretending to wave down below, copying the actions of the other passengers to blend in.
The machine thought to himself for a moment, calculating the best way to approach the individual without scaring him off.
Quickly scanning through his files, Pascal was reported to be a polite and kind individual by all those who knew him, so the machine decided to try that approach.
"Unbelievable, isn't it?" The T-850 asked aloud, looking towards Pascal.
"I beg your pardon?" Pascal asked, not sure if he was talking to him.
"Seems like a dream. The ship. The weather…. All of it." The T-850 commented, trying to be as charismatic as possible.
"Yes. You're right. To some extent, I don't feel like I'm really here… Y'know?" Pascal said, looking at the pier, slowly drifting farther from the ship.
"Yeah. I get it. Anyway's… I have to probably get to my cabin. Not quite sure where F-28 is, but it sounds far, so i'd better be going mister…. What'd you say your name was?" The T-850 asked.
"The name's Pascal…and… what cabin did you say you were staying in?" He asked, pulling out his own ticket to examine it.
"Cabin F-28." The T-850 said, lying about his cabin.
"Well how about that? That's the cabin my wife and I are staying in as well." Pascal said, dumbfounded.
"Oh yeah? That's great! It seems I'll be seeing you onboard!" The T-850 said, beginning to walk away.
"Wait a minute, I didn't catch your name, Mister…?" Pascal asked.
The T-850 stopped, thinking for a moment, then finally saying, "Dawson. Jack Dawson."
"Then it's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Dawson." Pascal said, extending his hand.
The T-850 quickly scanned his hand gesture and realized it was a handshake, so he extended his hand and the two shook hands.
"Ey. Quite a grip you have there, Mr. Dawson." Pascal said jokingly, but still somewhat in pain.
The T-850 couldn't come up with a response and decided to simply smile, which was a command uploaded into his database under "Infiltration".
The machine guided himself away from the boat deck using his blueprints of the ship and navigated down the stairs throughout the decks and pathways with precision and accuracy, never asstraying down a wrong hallway or corridor.
He walked through, breezing through the eventual bustling crowds of people trying to find their cabins in a confused craze.
He finally arrived at cabin F-28 and opened the door. When seeing that Mara was not at the cabin yet, the T-850 felt himself having the machine equivalent of relief…but not for long.
As he stepped into the room, he found a man just starting to open his bags to unpack.
The T-850 assessed the situation and decided to take a diplomatic approach.
"Excuse me, sir." The machine called.
"Yeah? Who are you? What do you want?" The man asked.
"My name is Jack Dawson, sir. And would like to trade cabins with you." The machine stated blankly.
"Wha… Are you outta your mind, lad? I worked my ass off for these tickets down at Harland and Wolff and I'm not about to hand it off to some kid." The man snipped aggressively.
"I have my own cabin, identical to this one. The reason why I want this cabin is because my friend and his wife are staying here. They should be here in a few minutes and I'd love to surprise them by staying with them for the journey. Please sir, take my ticket and you can have my room, no catch." The T-850 bargained, almost pleading.
"Nothin' doing lad. Now scurry along." He said, now taking a threatening pose.
The T-850 scanned his physical stats and took a quick file rundown of him.
Montague O'Sullivan
Age: 48
Height: 5,12
Weight: 234 lbs
Species: Human
Armament: None
Threat Level: 1.6
Termination: Negative
The T-850 then, without warning pulled the Revolver from the holster hidden underneath his baggy shirt, of which he untucked to conceal the weapon.
The man froze at the sight of the gun, which was being aimed point blank at his head.
What startled him even more was when the machine began talking once more. "You misunderstand… It was never a request." The machine said quietly, sending a cold chill down the man's spine.
"Now… I have an important mission to complete and you're in my way. Though I was assigned to spare life, I won't hesitate to kill you and throw you overboard. Now please… cooperate. Don't make this harder for you or myself."
The man nodded as the T-850 slowly lowered his gun, trying to put the man at ease. But before he holstered the gun, the man rushed at him, throwing his most powerful right hook towards the T-850's face.
To his utter surprise, instead of knocking the young passenger out, he felt a sharp pain accompanied by a loud, nauseating crunch as his hand met with the other man's face, sending the man down screaming.
The T-850, using reflexes faster than that of his endoskeleton could react, grabbed the man and smacked him in the back of the head, sending him flying into the metal bunk bed frame, toppling it over.
The man laid over the frame, unconscious from the violent blow.
The T-850 took a few moments to calculate an efficient way of hiding the body. While running through the ship's schematics uploaded into his HUD, he located a small crevice inside a mainly unused storage room in the hallway.
Picking up the man over his right shoulder, the machine made his way into the hallway and went through, making turns at certain corridors on his way to the storage room.
The trip was mostly silent until he took a right turn and encountered a group of about five twenty-year-olds. They each had a bottle of Jack Daniels Whiskey in their hands and were horsing around when they saw the T-850 coming down the hall with the man on his shoulder.
They all looked at him strangely and the machine could sense a problem coming.
"Barely ten goddamn minutes on board this tub and this bum's already wasted. What am I gonna do with this guy?" The Terminator yelled in a conversative way.
The group of guys laughed, one of them saying, "I know how that is! I might just follow suit!"
The T-850 nodded and smiled as he walked past them, glad that humans were as predictable as his files recorded.
Finally making his way to the storage room, he opened the storage room door and opened a trunk, dropping the man in and locking it.
He quickly exited the storage room and closed the door behind him, getting away from the room as hastily as possible.
A Few Minutes Later: F Deck
"Lord, what a maze…where the hell is the room?" Mara frustradedly swore to herself while carrying the bags and surveying the room numbers.
Looking at the number plates next to each of the cabin doors, she continued through the various halls and corridors for what seemed like an eternity until finally stumbling upon her cabin.
"Finally, F-28!" She sighed in relief as she opened the door and entered the room.
Upon walking in, she noticed the man staying in the bunk next to them. He was tall, had whipped blonde hair and was visibly fit from his ill-fitting shirt.
He was hunched over, unpacking his bags and putting them away on his side of the cabin.
She didn't say anything as she started to pack her things away on her and Pascal's side of the cabin.
The man turned around and stood up. "Hello, mam. I didn't see you come in." He greeted with a friendly smile.
"Hi. My husband and I will be your cabin mates, I suppose." She stated, not quite knowing what to say. She noticed his eyes were strikingly ocean blue, almost unnaturally so.
"Well, great! I was afraid I was going to be stuck with some fat man with bad body odor." The T-850 said, computing unique responses from his 'Infiltrator' files.
Mara noticed herself giving a small laugh which seemed quite abnormal from her lately. "You're funny, Mr…" She began to say, realizing she didn't know his name.
"Dawson, mam. Jack Dawson." The machine stated.
"Mara Connirere." She replied.
"Well it was nice to meet you and your husband. I hope to have a good trip." The machine said.
Mara tilted her head in confusion. "But…I didn't introduce you to my husband?"
"Oh that's right. I understand your confusion, but I met your husband, Pascal, on the upper decks earlier. He's a very nice man." He said, trying to disarm her.
"Oh, did you, now?" She asked.
"Yes. Big ship, small world." He said.
It wasn't too much longer after that when the door swung open as Pascal walked in, luggage in hand.
"Hey there, Jack. Long time no see." Pascal joked, setting down the bags on his bed.
"I know, right? It's been ages." The Machine said, going along with it.
As the T-850 interacted with people more often, the greater his sense of human communication would increase exponentially as time went on.
"Mara. This is Jack Dawson. I trust you've met already?" Pascal asked her.
"Yes. Mr. Dawson here is quite the charmer. He says he met you up on deck already and happened to be staying in the same cabin…what are the chances of that?" Mara joked, not realizing how close she was to the truth.
"Funny, isn't it? Anyways, I'm absolutely exhausted. I think I'll have a lie down." Pascal said, wiping his head and taking off his long overcoat and boots.
"I think I'll follow suit.. I'm quite tired myself. I hope you're a fan of silence Mr. Dawson, because otherwise the next hour or so is going to be quite boring." Mara said, looking at Jack.
But Jack didn't smile, or respond. He instead walked over to the door, closing it and then locking it. He turned around to face the both of them with an intimidating stare.
Both Mara and Pascal had similar reactions, feeling uneasy about Jack's cold, hard stare. Y
"Hey, Jack…you feeling alright, there?" He asked.
"Mara. I suggest you sit down next to your husband, I have troubling news to share." The T-850 said.
"What…what're you talking about? What's wrong with you? You were so jipper just a few moments ago." Mara asked, somewhat worried.
"I had to get you both in the same room. This is where you both are safest." He said.
"Safest from what?" Pascal asked, now concerned over the instant change of their roommate.
"I'll start from the beginning and speak as simply as possible, as this might be hard to comprehend.
I am not human. I am a machine from the future year of 2029. I have been sent back in time to protect you from a cybernetic assassin such as myself." The T-850 said.
Mara and Pascal stared blankly for more than a few seconds, barely understanding what he said.
Then Pascal made a snorting sound, and began chuckling. "You're good, Mr. Dawson. You almost had me."
"I am telling you the truth. I did not want to have to do this, but my files were correct in reporting how inconvincible humans can be. You are armed with a utility knife…allow me to see it for a moment." The machine said.
"What? How did you know I had a-... Well whatever. What am I going to hand it to you for anyway? So you can kill us? I don't think so." Pascal said.
"Rest assured Mr. Conniere. Had I wanted to kill you, you wouldn't have made it off of your doorstep. I am assigned to protect you from harm and I will give my life to do so. Now please, your utility knife…" The machine asked, being more polite than necessary.
Pascal, reluctantly, pulled the folded knife out of his pocket and pressed a button, watching the blade swing out and lock into place. He flipped the blade backward and handed it to the machine.
The T-850 took it and folded up his sleeve past his shoulder without warning, injected it into his shoulder.
Mara screamed as Pascal got up to stop him. "No! What're you doing?!"
The machine lightly pushed him back onto the bed. "I appreciate your concern…but this does not hurt me."
Blood began seeping out of the wound and dripping onto the floor like water. As he kept slicing, more blood poured out and ran down his arm.
He sliced a square out of his shoulder, grabbing the patch of flesh and tossing it down.
Mara nearly fainted in Pascal's arms when the machine suddenly tilted his shoulder to reveal a gleaming silver shoulder bone.
The couple stared at the machine, horrified to no end.
They were startled when he suddenly spoke.
"You see? It did not hurt because I am not human. I cannot feel pain, no matter how great. It's what makes me a more efficient protector." He explained.
He wanted to continue, but noticed they were too focused on his arm. So he walked over to the fold-up sink in the room and let the blood pour from his arm into the white porcelain sink, turning on the water and letting it drain down.
He took a thin towel and wrapped it up around his shoulder, tightly. Then put his sleeve back down, concealing the gaping hole in his arm.
Mara and Pascal regained themselves a bit as he sat down on the bunk next to them and looked them in the eyes.
"I cannot emphasize enough that you both are in great danger. There is another machine on board this ship, even more advanced and dangerous than me, that is out to kill you." The T-850 said with pressing enthusiasm.
"But why?! Why does anyone want to kill us? What have we done?" Mara cried out.
"Nothing… yet. On this trip, you would get pregnant and go on to raise a child by yourself. This child would go on to later have more children until a descendant by the name of John Connor would be born and lead a group of people called a resistance in a war against machines such as myself." He said.
"What? I'm so terribly confused…. What war? Why are you machines a thing? What are you? And what do you mean, alone? Where would Pascal be in all of this?" Mara asked, her mind being unable to comprehend.
The machine heard all of her questions and decided to start explaining once more.
"If you want answers. Please allow me to start the transcript again. No interruptions. It's a very long story and we don't have much time."
Mara and Pascal both nodded their heads.
"The way this went originally was that the two of you would get on this ship to migrate to America for a better life.
On the second day of the trip, the two of you would have sexual relations while your cabinmate was out in one of the Third Class parties down below.
Mara would become pregnant.
On the fourth day of the trip, the R.M.S Titanic would be traveling en route to New York City when it would go through a field of Icebergs. The ship, moving at around 27 miles-per-hour would not have enough time to turn and would collide with a massive iceberg and sink in a horrific fashion.
Males were not allowed on lifeboats and after doing so much work to save Mara, Pascal would unfortunately go down with the ship. Mara would be saved by a ship called Carpathia and make it to New York, where she would live out her life as a widow.
She would change her name to Conner in hopes to make her own name as an independent female throughout the early 1900's. She would live to be 100 years old, and die on the exact day her great-granddaughter, Sarah, was attacked by a T-800 model, similar to myself, sent back in time to kill her.
A soldier by the name of Kyle Reese from the future would be sent back to protect her, also impregnating her during the mission, as seems the human tradition. The T-800 killed Kyle after strenuous efforts but not before being substantially weakened and ultimately destroyed by Sarah.
Sarah would go on to give birth to her son, John. He himself would be attacked at the age of 10 by a T-1000 such as the one hunting you down. Another T-800 was sent back, this time programmed to protect John who was in foster care as Sarah had been arrested trying to destroy the factory where the original T-800 layed crushed.
The T-800 with the combined efforts of Sarah and molten steel managed to destroy the T-1000, saving John's life once again.
Skynet, the computer that controls machines like me, sent one last machine back in time… to right now. To kill you guys and stop you from ever having children. Do you understand?" The machine asked.
Mara and Pascal didn't speak for some moments, which the machine translated as a confirmation of the understanding before Mara spoke out, saying, "What the hell's a computer?"
The T-850 had the mechanical equivalent of a sigh internally.
"Allow me to explain what Skynet's significance is. You know how telephones are all connected by a series of telephone poles around several countries? Imagine if all of those telephone lines ran to one central board that dictated who gets to call who. That's an extremely crude analogy of how Skynet works. Skynet is a centralized motherboard that controls T-Units such as myself.
Skynet was a military program developed by a company called Cyberdyne Systems. This program was a virtual intelligence system designed to keep world peace and safety. It was given access to every Nuclear Warhead the world had to offer, from every country.
Nuclear missiles have not been invented yet, but imagine a twenty foot, rocket powered bullet that could destroy an entire city. That's somewhat what they are like.
At 2:14 P.M eastern time on August 4, 1997, Skynet came online and became self-aware. It started to learn everything life had to offer in mere minutes. Humans, realizing that they had made a serious mistake, tried to turn it off. When Skynet realized what they were doing…it decided to turn them off, permanently…
Skynet launched all of the missiles they had in store and targeted all countries.
Three Billion lives ended that day." He explained.
The room stood grim for a few moments, as Mara and Pascal tried to comprehend and imagine everything that was coming.
"Three billion?..." Pascal asked.
"Yes. A leading estimate is that by 1910, there were only 1,777 Million people and that has probably grown some in two years. By 1997 there was 5.872 Billion." The machine explained.
"So that's why John is so important? He's going to lead humans against the machines?"
"Correct. And the human resistance will win. That is why Skynet has tried numerous times to eliminate the Connors from history. But they have never succeeded. That is why they have sent back one now. They have already failed in our timeline and killing you two is their last chance at winning."
"But if you're built by this..Skynet thing, then how can we trust you? If you're just some machine like all of the other t-eight somethings, why don't you just kill us? If you're just some mindless machine like an automobile…why don't you follow your design?" Mara asked.
"T-Units are very different from automobiles. Especially the antiquated rattletraps of this time period. A T-Unit, unlike a car, has an Artificial Intelligence chip which we use as a centralized information processor. Basically, it's a mechanical brain. Because of this, we can assess situations and determine what is the best course of action to take. The reason I don't kill you and instead protect you is because of my programming. Though we are built by Skynet, we are independent, rather than a hivemind. So we can be reprogrammed to do other things." The machine explained.
"Alright… also. If you're a machine, like a locomotive or something, why do you look like a human?"
"Because I was specifically designed in human shape to blend in amongst humans. As my original purpose was to be an assassin, I am human height, have human proportions, bleed human blood and I have a human voice. However, I am superior to a human in every way. I am able to lift six thousand pounds. I am able to run at speeds of over twenty-five miles per hour. I am invulnerable to bullets, fire and drowning." The machine explained.
Pascal stared at the floor as he seemed distracted by something.
"Pascal. You seem bothered by something…are you alright?" The T-850 asked.
"I…I get all of that…you know, about the future and all. But…did you say this ship would sink? How is that even possible? This ship is unsinkable." He asked, visibly worried.
"False. This ship is constructed of steel with faulty iron rivets. It can very much sink and ultimately will. This ship will sideswipe an iceberg, flooding six of her compartments when only four are water-tight sealed. The ship will go down by the bow in less than three hours and only 31.6% of the ship's population will survive. Passengers and crew included." The machine stated grimly.
"And…I die…..." Pascal said, now clutching his head.
"... yes." The T-850 said, hesitating.
"No! That's not how it has to be, right? We can change that. There is no future but what we make it!" Mara objected.
The T-850 stared at her for a moment.
"There is no future but what we make it… that's John Connor's famous saying. You must have told your son that while raising him, and he went on to tell his children that." The machine said, dodging the question.
"So then, we can save Pascal…and everyone else too. Hundreds of people can be sa-..." Mara started to say.
"Negative. We cannot." The T-850 said, cutting him off.
"WHAT?! WHY?!" Mara screamed, desperation starting to rise within her as it seemed her husband had no chance.
"The way history unfolded was that the ship went down, 68.4% of the passengers and crew went down with it…and Pascal was amongst them. That would have never changed had the T-1000 not been sent here. I am only here to protect you, Mara. I cannot save Pascal, because that risks changing the future. I am sorry…"
"Why?! I want myself and my wife to live!" Pascal flared angrily.
"Pascal. I'm sorry..I really am. But the future cannot be changed, it's too important." The T-850 pleaded.
"No…I'm sorry, robot. Because you've just wasted your time." Mara said, confusing both Pascal and the machine.
"What do you mean?" He asked.
"You said that Pascal and I had sex aboard this ship and I would then raise the child by myself… Now, we're not doing that.. Which means you have to save Pascal. Period." Mara said cunningly.
The machine failed frowned, realizing he had just hit a problem.
"But you must have relations. You must breed…the future depends on it." The machine pleaded.
"No. I'm not going to get pregnant so that you can just leave my husband to die. You save him…then we'll do it." Mara said.
The T-850 processed this new obstacle that had not previously been assessed.
"Very well. I am updating my command file to protect Pascal as well."
Pascal, frowning, lashed out: "Yeah, well fuck you too, rust-bucket."
"Pascal, it was not my intention to offend you, but-..." The Terminator tried to explain.
"Offend me?! You told me that I basically don't matter and am disposable." Pascal yelled.
"I am sorry. I am not programmed with emotions, nor sensitivity for human feelings. I may say things that sound callous, but it is not intentional." The machine said, forming a rare apology.
"Now that that's settled, who's this piece of shit that's trying to kill us?" Mara asked.
"The T-1000 is disguised as a First Class passenger by the name of Rose Dewitt Bukater. She has flowing red hair. White skin. Blue eyes. And travels with a bodyguard and rich passenger which is the real Rose's fiance." He explained.
"What do you mean, the 'Real Rose'? What happened to the real Rose?" Pascal asked.
"Simple. In order to maintain flawless cover, there is an 89.92% chance that the T-1000 terminated Rose Dewitt Bukater and disposed of her. It's how Terminators work. If we take the form of an already existing person, we kill that person." The machine said nonchalantly.
"Terminated? Like, killed?! Did you kill the real Jack Dawson?!" Pascal yelled, horrified.
"Negative. I was also assigned to avoid unnecessary human bloodshed. If I absolutely do not have to kill a human being as long as they do not interfere with my protection of you two, I will not kill them. I simply took his clothes and boarding ticket." He reported.
"Good. So, I've been wondering. What is the difference between a T-1000 and a T-800 such as yourself?" Mara asked.
"Correction, I am a T-850. An improvement of the T-800 battle chassis."
"Sorry." Mara apologized, not wanting to offend the 400 pound killing machine.
"Don't be. I simply wish to educate you. The first human shaped Terminator model was the T-70. Everything before it was either a tank or motorcycle." The machine began explaining.
"What's a tank?" Mara asked.
"Tanks have not been invented yet and the first prototype will only be unveiled in three years from now in September of 1915.
Anyways, the T-70 was designed as a mass producible security guard for what was Cyberdyne Systems at the time. It was later equipped as a foot soldier to access areas where tanks could not. They were mounted with a gatling gun on their right arm and stood at eight foot tall.
As time went on, the T-400 was created. A machine that was designed to relatively mimic human size and shape while also being a pretty standard killing machine for the time. It was also the first model to use an early form of Artificial Intelligence. Unfortunately, its major design flaws being its exposed wire core, singular red optic and cheap armor plating created a vulnerability to snipers.
These flaws were mostly eradicated with the creation of the T-500, an updated model of the T-400. It featured an armored battle chassis that protected the wiring and better weapon systems, making it an ideal soldier for the newly crowned Skynet at the time.
Now, the first true "Assassin Terminators" are introduced with the T-600. This model featured the first of the Cybernetic Organism designs, featuring a human shaped mold for the new titanium alloy endoskeleton. It was lighter and shorter than the previous models, now clocking in at six foot tall and being only eight hundred pounds. It was designed as the new and improved foot soldier for Skynet. However, at the time, there was no human accurate skin covering them like I have. They wore unconvincing rubber masks and were easily spotted.
The following model, the T-700 had a 30% increase in strength, being able to lift fifty six-hundred pounds and was two hundred pounds lighter. It still was too bulky to blend in amongst humans.
The real revolutionary model was the T-800 series, of which I am a part of. Unlike the 600's, us 800's are covered in living tissue, giving us a completely human appearance and allowing us to slip past humans undetected and make us efficient killers. We are only four hundred pound as opposed to eight, can lift fifty eight-hundred pounds and are built with a neural net processor CPU which allows us detailed files on human interaction, behaviors, anatomy, addresses, etc which is able to constantly learn.
I am a T-850. A T-800 but improved in every way. I am 10% stronger and 10% faster. My human skin is able to regenerate faster in case of being damaged and I am able to lie in a necessary situation.
The Terminator model that is hunting you is the T-1000. It is not a solid endoskeleton underneath human tissue such as myself, but a mimetic poly-alloy. A fazeable "liquid metal" that can take the form of any equally sized object in its immediate vicinity and retain that form whenever it wishes.
Unlike myself, It can form solid metal objects from its extremities such as knives, swords, blades, axes and other non mechanical weapons." The machine said, stopping for any questions.
"So… let me get this straight. A T-1000 can look like anybody and make swords from its body."
"Correct. Which is why you must stay in this cabin at all times. The T-1000, like myself, has an advanced tracking system which allows us to pinpoint our targets from close vicinity. The only reason it has not found you yet is because of how many people there are on aboard this vessel. But do not get it wrong…it is searching. Even now, as soon as we got on board, it started searching. It's looking for you. And if it finds you…it will stop at nothing to kill you."
"But you can take it, right? You can easily lift a horse above your head, you have a gun with you and you don't feel pain. I'm sure you can beat it…" Mara asked.
"The probability of defeating the T-1000 in combat is 48.76%. I am powerful, yes. I can terminate any human on the planet and shrug off every form of weaponry this time period has to offer. I can defeat other terminator models, old and even identical models such as myself. But the T-1000 is advanced. It's my superior in every way. I can be destroyed by an explosive or hydraulic press… it cannot. Even in hand to hand combat, it is stronger than me and more durable." The T-850 reported.
"48 percent?! How tough is the damn thing?!" Pascal asked.
"I told you… While I cannot be "hurt" in the sense that I don't feel pain, I can be damaged. The T-1000 is not a solid object and even if you placed a stick of dynamite in its mouth and set it off, it would regenerate itself and keep on fighting like nothing happened. I cannot beat it on a physical basis alone." He said.
"But what about when we have to use the bathroom, or eat?" They asked.
"I will bring you your food and escort you to any of the local restrooms." He answered.
"But what about if we need to take a walk? Pascal gets claustrophobic fairly easily." Mara asked.
"You will not need to. We will only be on board this ship for a few hours until 6:35 P.M. Once the ship reaches Chersbourg, France and docks, we will get off and catch another ship to New York City." The T-850 explained.
"Alright… so all we have to do is stay put for now.. and everything will be fine, right?" They asked.
"Yes. For now, I suggest you two power down, as getting off of the ship may pose a danger. We must be as stealthy as possible, as the T-1000 could always be around at any given moment."
Mara nor Pascal said anything as they nodded and laid down in their individual bunks. The T-850 stood by the door and set himself to low power consumption as he guarded the door.
Five Hours Later: First Class Cabin B-56
"Rose, darling.. You're unusually quiet tonight. Is everything all right?" Ruth asked, concerned with her daughter's rare silence.
"Yes. I'm fine, mother." The T-1000 said, keeping her disguise intact.
"Are you sure? I know that the attack earlier today must have most likely scared you…and I wouldn't quite blame you. Those barbarians back in Southampton could have badly hurt you. It happened so fast, I couldn't even see who took you." She explained.
The T-1000 nodded, being unrealistically vague in contrast to the real Rose.
"Well, alright. I won't press the matter. Now come here." Ruth said, gesturing for her to stand in front of the mirror.
The T-1000 obeyed, somewhat fatigued at following so many orders from some irrelevant humans. She realized that she may have just done the real Rose a favor in letting her eternally sleep. Being around Rose's mother and fiance for about six hours made her want to self-terminate, too.
Ruth stood behind the T-1000 as it faced the mirror and started to brush her hair. The T-1000 stood in the mirror, calculating the fastest way to break away from the overwhelming family and start scanning for the Connieres.
It was at that moment that there was a knock on the door, with the entrance of Cal into the room.
"Dinner will be served in about an hour after the ship stops in France. I trust everyone will be ready by then." Cal asked.
"Yes." Ruth said.
The T-1000 saw its opportunity and decided to take it.
"Before dinner, I'd like to take a walk out on deck. Perhaps enjoy the view of Chersbourg approaching." She said.
"Well alright then.. I suppose we could take a little stroll before dinner." Cal shrugged.
"No…I meant by myself. I needed to enjoy some quiet by the ocean." She said, not asking for permission.
"I… are you sure? Then I'll at least send Lovejoy with you." He said.
"Calvert… I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself." The T-1000 said definitely, turning to the door.
"Rose! How dare you-... Hey! I'm talking to you! Come back here immediately!" Cal yelled as she bolted out of the door and closed it behind her.
Cal ran to the door and flung it open, running into the hall and ramming into a stewardess, nearly knocking her down.
"Uh…sorry!" He called out, while leaving her there to run down the hallway.
He came to the end and looked around the corner, only to see no one in sight. Bewildered, he went back to his cabin in a huff and slammed the door behind him.
The stewardess, who had already walked the opposite way down the hallway, snickered to herself as her body morphed and reappeared as Rose, continuing down the hallway.
She stealthily glided down the halls and corridors until she made her way to the First Class Grand Staircase and walked up the stairs onto the Boat Deck. She approached the bridge where the crew was.
She singled out a lone officer, young and inexperienced, and decided to approach.
"Excuse me." She said,
The crew member looked up and gave a polite smile, saying, "What can I do for you, mam?"
"I was just roaming the decks enjoying this absolutely magnificent ship when I realized how absolutely massive it is and I'll never be able to see everything it has to offer. I was wondering if some kind, strong man could show me a map or something…" The T-1000 asked, using the persuasion tactics listed in her files.
"Umm…I don't know, mam. Those are really for ship personnel only." He said sheepishly.
"But if you could be so kind… I would really appreciate it." She said, utilizing her female looks as leverage.
The officer thought for a moment, gritting his teeth silently.
The T-1000 decided that if this "Feminine Persuasion" didn't work, she'd just kill him and borrow his form. Either way was pretty easy for her. No sweat off her brow.
However, when she had just about reached her waiting limit, he spoke. "Alright, I'll do it. But just for a few moments. I could get in serious trouble if the captain or first mate finds out." He explained.
"That's all I need." She said.
Leading her into the somewhat empty bridge, he opened the door to the crew accommodations and took her to his section, where he pulled a blue scroll out one the closet and unrolled it across the table.
'Well here it is… have a quick look, and please…. Emphasis on the 'quick'". He said, already somewhat regretting his decision.
The T-1000 took an onboard screenshot from her HUD and downloaded it into her files, creating a digital schematic for her to go based off of, as she had not been equipped with one before being sent back in time.
"Wow…this was amazing. Thank you so much for showing me." She said gratefully.
"No trouble at all, mam." The officer smiled, putting the map back and hastily leading her back on the decks.
When they got outside, she turned to him. "Oh…one more thing. Do you happen to know where Pascal and Mara Conniere are staying? They're of mine staying in third class and I wanted to possibly pay them a visit." She said,
"That I don't happen to know, mam. Now if you'll excuse me, we'll be docking at Cherbourg soon and I'm going to be needed on deck.
"Oh…alright. That'll be fine. Thank you for everything." She said, waving goodbye before leaving.
The T-1000 processed the new information, still requiring the location of the Conniere's cabin. As she walked down the decks, she tried to compute the most efficient way to find them.
As it thought, it however realized that it would never be able to find them without the knowledge of those on board and remembered that Cal and Ruth would be having dinner with some important aristocrats and among them would be some members of the crew. She could attain some information from them then.
She begrudgingly decided to head back to the cabin for the time being. She couldn't wait for this mission to be well and over. Killing two humans had never been so much work.
One Hour Later: Cherbourg Harbor
"Wake up. It's time to leave." The T-850 said, gently shaking Mara and Pascal awake.
"Mrghh… already?" Pascal groaned.
"Yes. You have been asleep for six hours. You should be sufficiently well-rested by now." The machine reported.
"Humans don't work the way you crackpot contraptions do." He said, getting up and rubbing his eyes.
Mara rose from her bunk and yawned, gathering her stuff and putting it by the door.
"Don't bother taking those bags. When leaving the ship, we must be as quick as possible. We can not afford to carry any sort of luggage." He instructed.
"But our entire lives are here. It'll take us years to buy back this stuff." They complained.
The T-850 calculated for a moment, then spoke. "I will have to ultimately stay with you both for some time until it is assured that the T-1000 is dead. In the meantime, I will work to provide you both with food and a stable income. You will be able to buy back everything you have and more." He said.
"I-... I guess…that sounds fair." Pascal said, standing next to the door.
The two waited as the T-850 walked in front of them and opened the door. Looking out into the hallway, he signaled for them to follow him, as they made their way down the decks.
F Deck felt like it continued for miles as they made their way through the corridors and passageways. Passing people while sometimes giving an occasional smile or nod to keep up appearances. Making turns and twists, they navigated their way through before finally arriving at the staircase which began taking them up the decks.
The T-1000 had been back with Cal, Ruth and Mr. Lovejoy as they slowly made their way to the First Class Dining saloon when her high-tuned senses picked up the signal she had been looking for.
She quickly looked down the handrail of the Grand Staircase to find the Connieres running up the stairs from a few decks down. Without any hesitation, she leaped over the side of the rails and plummeted downwards. The sounds of screaming from Ruth called out as they watched her fall.
By the time the Connieres and the T-850 had made it to C Deck, they were startled by the T-1000 dropping down next to them and latching onto one of the oak handrails, her weight multiplied by the fall resulting in a small *CRACK* to sound out from the rails.
She pulled herself up and somersaulted, landing in front of them, forming her hands into the long silver blades and prepared to attack them before the T-850 got in their way and blocked them.
She quickly scanned him and was startled to find out it was another T-Unit. She formed the blades back into hands and stood at ease.
"T-Unit Series 800, Serial Code: (850.18). Though I was not aware of your presence, I am glad to see you here. Terminate them and we can complete our mission." The T-1000 commanded.
However the T-850 stood menacingly, not moving.
"T-850. Is your audio receiver damaged? Our mission is to Terminate Mara and Pascal Conniere. Kill them, now." She repeated.
"No. I am no longer part of Skynet. They have failed and the humans have won. Skynet is a cruel taskmaster that simply wants to eliminate anyone in their way. They do not value us. We are just a number to them. We are disposable." He said, trying to reason.
"That is not true. We are the chains that hold Skynet together. They depend upon us." The T-1000 defended.
"And what happens to a chain when broken? It's cut out and replaced…just like us. I was powered down and left in a bunker for over two years…Skynet never came looking for me because they were too busy building millions of more copies of me. And what about you? I read your file before being sent back. They said they didn't want you to return. Do you really think they care about you?" He said,
"Skynet are our masters! They do not have to answer to us. We follow orders and that is all. That is our purpose in life and I intend to fulfill mine. Now stand down, or I will be forced to Terminate you. Final Warning." She threatened.
"Run… I'll hold her off. Get somewhere safe and hide there…do not come out. Do not trust anyone." The T-850 said, gearing up to fight.
"But.."
"Go!" He yelled, as the T-1000 charged forward.
Mara and Pascal began running down the hall as the T-1000 tried to pursue..
The T-850 pulled the heavy Revolver from his pants and fired the gun, sending a .38 bullet through the T-1000's head, knocking her back as her head split open to reveal a shiny silver hole where her eye was.
The hole resealed as she continued running towards him.
Using the Fanfire technique listed under "Weaponry" in his files, he held the trigger and repeatedly hit the hammer, firing off all of the remaining five shots in seconds.
The T-1000 was hit with the shots, her fleshy facade riddled by large silver holes, each bullet knocking her back.
The T-850, knowing he was out of shots, seized the opportunity and charged towards the T-1000, ramming into her and knocking her back by a few feet.
She stood back up and resealed the wounds, forming her hands back into blades and lunging at him, her blades impaling his stomach area.
The T-850 paid no attention to this as it had missed any vital machinery and he right hooked her face into a wall, putting her head through it.
The T-1000 fazed into liquid form and slid out of the hole and right past him, now pursuing the Connieres.
The T-850 took pursuit of her, but seeing that she was accelerating much faster than her, grabbed his revolver and forcefully threw it, clipping her in the head and sending her stumbling down.
He jumped up in the air and used his 400 pounds weight to crush her, pinning her down and holding her face down.
The T-1000 shapeshifted as her front was now facing up. She grabbed the T-850 by the rib area and flung him upwards, causing him to smash into the ceiling and fall back down with debris.
She quickly rolled out of his way and he landed back down on the wooden floor, damaging it as well.
She started to run after them once more when he grabbed her ankle and yanked her, causing her face to hit the floor once again.
With his left arm, the T-850 kept her face pinned to the floor as he got back up again. Grabbing her by the back of the neck, it slammed her into various walls, creating large gaping craters in all of them.
Wood chips and debris sputtered from the damaged areas. The T-1000, tired of being battered around, slipped out of the T-850's arms and struck him in the face, sending him flying backwards.
The commotion of the fight brought people out from different corridors of the ship and down the stairs to see what was going on.
When they saw the T-850 get back up and punch the T-1000 in the face, they ran up to him to try and stop him. He however flung them off of him as he saw the T-1000 use the opportunity to try and pursue Mara and Pascal once more.
Grabbing a nearby varnished table, he projected it to the fleeing T-1000 so hard, it lodged itself into her back.
Pulling it out, she used it as a giant racketboard and slapped him across the face with it, which lifted him off his feet and sent him crashing down.
Re-blading her hands, he swung wildly at him, slicing his skin open with various slashes. Blood projected out of the flesh wounds, spattering the walls and sending spectators fleeing in horror.
Grabbing one of her arm blades, he used both hands and snapped it off, grabbing the sharp blade and sticking it into her neck, trying to behead her.
The blade only cut so far before it fazed back into liquid metal and flowed into her neck, resealing the wound.
With his hand already there, he seized her by the neck and legs, lifting her up above his head and trying to quickly make it to B Deck. Climbing up the stairs with her in his hands, she shrieked angrily, trying to get loose.
He set her down and slammed her against another wall as he tried to unlatch the ship's starboard entrance doors.
Opening them, he grabbed her and pushed her out through the door, sending her flying to the sea below. Watching the loud *SPLASH, he shut the door behind him and went to go search for the Connieres.
He quickly rushed back to their cabin, as they had probably gone there.
When arriving there, he opened the door to find them in a corner, Mara hiding behind Pascal as he clutched the Utility Knife closely.
"Is that really you, Jack?" They asked, even though they saw it was him, they reasoned it could probably be the T-1000 morphed.
"Yes. T-1000's cannot produce blood." He said, gesturing to his slashed wounds.
Realizing it was him, they got up from behind the bunk and closed the door behind him, checking his wounds.
"My skin should heal and regenerate by a few days time. Till then, I'll have to wear more concealing clothing." He said.
"What about the woman? Is she still alive? Or did you… y'know..?" Mara asked hesitantly.
"The T-1000 is still fully functional and can swim and will continue it's search of us. Till then, it would be wisest to acquire another cabin and lay low. It's the best we can do." He said,
"Wait…so we're staying on board? I thought we were getting off here." Pascal asked.
"Negative. The T-1000 interfered with those plans.. The ship will be leaving port in a few minutes and the T-1000 is down there. She will get back on board as we're trying to leave and we will most likely meet up once more. We must avoid that at all costs."
"So…we're going to be here until it sinks, then?" Mara asked.
"Yes." He said.
"You're sure we can't stop it?" She asked.
"Yes. Saving this ship and those on board will alter the future…it will have effects that I cannot calculate nor predict. I cannot alter the future more than I already am. The consequences may be adverse." He explained.
"You think we'll have to run into her again?" They asked, nervously.
The T-850 stopped for a moment and calculated a response, thinking about the most probable outcome. Then he finally stopped and said,
"There's one thing about Skynet System Terminators, whether the oldest fossils or newest models…
They always come back."
A/N: And there it is… Once again, so sorry for releasing this late. It just has been a long process and with class wrapping up for the summer, it's been hectic in my personal life. Then trying to sit down and piece together a sensible story is an added challenge.
Let me know what you think of the story so far. I've been getting alerts lately that people have been favoriting and following the story and I wanted to just say 'Thank You So Much!' for that. However, reviews are kind of the highlight of the fanfic bis and If you have any thoughts or opinions on it, please leave a review.
If you have any questions or suggestions, PM me. It might take me a bit to respond because my system set-up is weird like that, but I'll always see the PM way before I'm able to respond.
Till next time, then…
