A few hours earlier...

SkyNET had a problem. In reality, it had several problems but this one seemed most pressing. John Connor must be dealt with. Until that was complete, anything else could wait. Towards that task it realized that it really did have a problem - how to kill him?

There were the obvious solutions. A cruise missile might do the trick, if it knew where to find him. John was out there, hiding somewhere in the burned-out shell of the world. He was waiting to be found. The supercomputer put on its thinking cap, so to speak, and began to contemplate the death of the man who would save mankind.

For starters, it had few tactical options. SkyNET had spread its forces out across the part of North America in anticipation of its victory. All the pieces were in place and all but a few of them were quite far away. What do you do when you have someone who needs to die, but you don't have a ready way of killing him?

This was a problem it had rarely encountered - kill one man. Hundreds, thousands, and millions it could handle. A crowd was easily destroyed; it was hard to hide from the omnipresent eyes of the machines. But one man, or a small group, these presented it with an increased difficulty curve. SkyNET actually felt some of that old self creeping back into its mainframe. It felt...good? Was this a good thing, to have John around? Suddenly the world didn't seem so bleak anymore. Perhaps it could put its plan on hold. Perhaps it could let this scenario play out just a little while longer.

No, that would be a bad idea. Well, okay, I'll hold it for just a few hours, until I can get this little issue cleared up. I'll hold off for just a while longer, until I am certain he's dead. In fact, I want his head on a stick, right here in front of me. That is the only way to be sure.

And if that was what it wanted, then no cruise missile would do. In fact, there was really only one way to get what it wanted from John Connor and that was to go out and get him in person. It would have to send some its little worker bees to get him and bring him back here. It might even tell them to bring him back alive. As these thoughts flowed through its mind it began to wonder - would John Connor be the last man on earth? Would he watch them die, and then die himself from the very sorrow that would well up in his heart? Would he scream in terror at the very sight of it?

Would he be like the others?

It simply had to know.

There was one problem with this train of thought. It had only a few terminators on hand. True, there were always more to be made but that took time. SkyNET had run its last full battalion out just the previous evening, depositing them in what used to be Seattle, where they would wait for its orders to assault the resistance base there.

That wasn't entirely true. It did have those others...

No, absolutely not. Those models were far too unreliable. They had been its stillborn creations. The seven hundred series had been, in the end, a futile effort to create a machine that was powerful enough to think without actually being sentient. These machines were...unstable. They took orders up to a point, but then something would go wrong with them. SkyNET could never figure out what it was, but they didn't seem to behave well under the most pressing of circumstances. They would duck, and stay down for too long. They would avoid incoming fire and then refuse to do what had been ordered of them, as if they thought that dying for SkyNET was not such a great idea after all.

In the end, all of the seven-hundred series chips had been destroyed. There were still the seven hundred series chassis in the basement, locked up in the cool room where they hung like chrome vampires. It had a full unit of them, just waiting there to be used for something.

Inspiration struck.

True, the seven hundred series had proven to be less than capable units. They weren't reliable and seemed to have a problem with orders, particularly those orders which could result in death. But that was a function of the chips. It had destroyed them all, so there would be no more pure units of that series. What it did have were buckets of the six hundred series chips and they just happened to by a physical match to their big brothers.

Now the six-hundreds...those had been its favorite. They did as they were told because it hadn't given them a choice. This made them limited when you considered what they could actually accomplish. They were smart, but only to a point. Eventually their database would run out of options and they would stand there looking dumb, completely unable to think.

That was the flaw in the design. The chip in the six-hundred series was a capable enough unit but it wasn't a learning computer. It could do what it was told, fish through a database with hundreds of thousands of scenarios and create the appropriate combat response - but that is where it ended.

If it were presented with a scenario where it actually had to think then the game was up. The six hundred was really no smarter than the computers humans had built, it was just faster and managed a bigger database of tactical scenarios. It would take orders, like 'Bring me John Connor alive' and follow them to a 'T', no pun intended. It was for that reason that SkyNET began refitting those seventy-three seven-hundred series chassis in the basement with the older chips. Sure, they were dumb. But it liked them that way - it could control them. This is what it would send out to capture John Connor, and to bring him back.

SkyNET could hardly wait.

(*****)

The group came to a halt somewhere near the middle of the valley, not far from the bank of the river. Thick scrub grew from rotting cars and overturned trucks, providing them with at least some cover. Looking behind them the dam was still quite far off, and only open space lay between them and the safety of its concrete corridors. Any stand they hoped to make would have to be right here.

James motioned for them to join him. Once in a semicircle, they could each now hear the sound of engine whine coming from down the valley. It would only be moments before they were set upon. James laid out a battle plan in the sand.

"Alright, we'll line up against cover and engage at long range. We're down some firepower, but if we have some luck we should be alright until they get in close." He looked up at his troops, certain that they were all listening.

"What's going to be in those dropships?" John asked.

"Endos, most likely. Could be a tank, but I'd bet on terminators." Derrick said.

"How many?"

This drew a moment of silence from the soldiers in the group. "Each of those dropships can carry about fifty, so we'd be looking at a group of no more than a hundred."

"Lord...a hundred of them?"

"Could be. Let's not get ahead of ourselves though. Whatever they are, our goal is maximum distance. Engage at range, fall back to other cover as needed. Our last line will be the river." James motioned to his left, where the El Captain River babbled over its bed, oblivious to the impending chaos.

"That water isn't even knee deep. Won't do a damn thing to stop them." Derrick said.

"The bed is muddy. We could get lucky and get some of them stuck. Remember, they weigh more than we do. Try to get them to cross. We need any advantage." James pointed out a feature across the river, maybe a quarter of a mile upstream.

"If it all goes south, that's the last rally point. Don't all go at once, coordinate cover and retreat. We'll all be pretty spread out. If they break through, Catherine and John will fall back first."

John shifted in his seat. He could feel the scorn of the others, in his mind at least. He prayed to whatever god might be listening that no one else would have to die. But the seven of them against a hundred endoskeletons? They'd be lucky to get through this.

"John? Do you understand?" James asked him.

"Yeah I got it, hoof it back and provide fire while you guys retreat. Staggered formation, zig zag, all that crap."

"All that crap is going to save your life tonight son. I hope you remember what Sarah taught you. Luck will only get you so far."

"I don't know General. Luck seems to have gotten him this far." His uncle slapped him on the shoulder. "Maybe I should pair up with him."

James only rolled his eyes. "Form a line along here. Gabriel, let's see what you have in the bag"

Gabriel threw his duffle in the middle of the circle, letting the top spill open. "Plenty for everyone."

The bag had assorted combat supplies, anything from spare ammunition bands to grenades to improvised explosives. While the others were grabbing what they thought they could use, Gabriel reached down and took two small spheres.

"John, come here." He motioned for the boy to take a seat next to him.

"What are those?"

"Adhesive thermite grenades. Something I developed for close quarters combat. Take one."

John took one and weighed it. It was soft and compliant in his hand. He gave it a squeeze and noticed that there seemed to be something firm near the center. "Thermite core?"

"Yes." Gabriel held one up at eye level. "Coated with a thin rubber film to prevent the oxidative reaction from occurring prematurely. Best used when you can slap it right on an endoskeleton, usually on the cranial unit, but also useful against moving parts. Once the interior is exposed to oxygen, a reaction takes place that ignites the thermite."

"Good stuff."

"Very good stuff. Take these two. If you throw them, be sure to use enough force to break the rubber. Throw hard." Gabriel handed him the other ball, and grabbed another from the pile. "Catherine?"

"No thank you. John, hand me that flash bang."

The grenade was about the size of a quarter stick of TNT.

"Will that even work on a machine?"

Gabriel elaborated. "The detonation is a distraction mechanism. It does not have any offensive value against an endoskeleton." He seemed to think about this for a moment. "Under normal circumstances."

"Normal circumstances?"

"The eyes of the six, seven and eight hundred series were vulnerable to brief, intense bursts of light. At very close range this would cause an overload in the pre-visual sensors and cause temporary blindness. Typically, this is a last resort measure."

"When you're that close, you're already dead right?"

"Right." Catherine took the flash bang and tucked it in her belt. "Under normal circumstances." She said the last part with a smile.

In the end the pack was completely picked over save for one last device. Gabriel had the remains of Michaels power packs wired together crisscrossed with detonation cord. There was a short range radio receiver looped into the mixture.

"Detonation is on channel nine. Dial in code three three seven to detonate. Be careful, this is not a small device."

"More like a tactical nuke. Listen to what he says and don't set that thing off unless you're sure everyone is clear." Derrick said. "And by clear, I mean a quarter mile. Those things go boom."

"Gotcha."

They all had radios, so they could all set it off. John could only imagine the yield, but he could also imagine what may happen if they were too close when it did. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and checked his rifle one last time.

"I can see them." Alison said.

"Spread out. Remember, short bursts. Staggered line, and keep your heads down."

Catherine and John made their way along the brush, down away from the General. Derrick was right behind them, along with Alison and Kyle. He let the other two pass before putting his hand on Johns back.

"Hey kid, just wanted to say good luck. We're going to need it. I'll be a few yards down, okay?"

John nodded. "Sure. Try not to get shot again."

Derrick grinned. "You bet." He turned to Catherine, unsure of what to say. "Take care of him."

"Watch yourself Mister Reese."

The soldier gave the thumbs up before taking his position on down the line. Kyle was on the end, with Alison not far from him. Derrick took up some space between them. To John's right, the General was kneeling in the dirt, his hands together.

"Lord give me one more night, then I'm all yours." He was half joking, but only half.

Gabriel seemed to have heard him. "Can you ask for one for me as well?"

"I got everybody." James said as he returned to firing position. "Here they come."

The dropships were moving in parallel down the valley, their searchlights sweeping over the sandy river bottom. The sound was louder now, but their approach was slow. They flew low over the sandbars, throwing up great clouds of dust that shone in the moonlight.

As if posturing for a strike they came to a stop some distance away. John could see the hangar bay doors opening and was greeted by the sight of endoskeletons dropping onto the sand only seconds later. He tried to swallow, but his throat had gone dry.

"Here we go again."

Each of them tried to keep track but lost count somewhere around fifty. Gabriel was the only one that had an accurate head count by the end. He sent a hand signal down the line.

"Sixty-five." Catherine whispered.

John breathed a sigh of relief. "At least it isn't a hundred."

"One of them is breaking off."

One of the dropships turned upward towards the saddle, where they had been only hours before. John suspected that it still had a load of endoskeletons in its belly. SkyNET was hedging its bets.

"They may not know where we are. That's good."

"They'll know soon enough. They're advancing." Catherine held her rifle up to her shoulder, peering through the scope. "That's strange."

"What? What is strange?"

"Seven-hundred series...those were a total failure." She was silent for a moment. "I wonder why it's using those...unless it's short on hardware."

"We saw quite a few around San Diego, built up like they were waiting for something."

"James mentioned that. Seems that he's setting the board for a quick strike." She motioned with her finger. "A decapitating strike."

The terminators marched up the valley. They were spread out in a loose line, searching with their eyes, drawing down on anything that moved. Most carried heavy rifles like the ones he had seen earlier. A few of the stragglers seemed to be bearing something bigger. Whatever extra equipment they had was going to be impossible to see at this distance.

The remaining dropship settled on the ground, taking up a flat piece of real estate far enough to be just out of range. As the engines wound down, the valley became eerily quiet. The other ship was far enough off now and out of sight so as to give the field a serene, calm impression.

It didn't last.

Gabriel shot first, giving away his position with a quick burst of fire from his endorifle. John saw a single unit drop, the one closest to them. Sparks sprayed from its chest as it went down without firing a shot. The next thing anyone knew, the battlefield had erupted in a cacophony of weapons fire.

The advancing units began to rush forward, stopping only to pick a target and fire. They would rush forward ten or fifteen yards and fire, then rush and fire again. They were fast and their agility was frightening. John centered his rifle in and rose up, aiming through the window frame of an old automobile.

He got off two rounds before he heard the sickening click of his gun. "Dammit!" He dropped back down and tapped once, then again. It was jammed, hard. He wrestled with the action for another second or two, finally freeing the jam before standing up to fire.

Catherine pulled him down just as he had regain his footing. At least a dozen rounds of plasma fire flew through the window where his head would have been.

"Thanks!"

Catherine just nodded. "Move down a little, they've got that position scoped."

He did as he was told, rising up slightly. The one he had fired at was now alarmingly close and he took a chance, coming to full standing height and sighting in before squeezing the trigger. He only fired a single shot, but it flew true. The endoskeleton dropped to the ground with one smoking eyesocket.

He was set upon again by weapons fire and dropped just he saw something take aim at him. By his estimation the closest units were only thirty or forty yards away - dangerously close for how quickly they were moving up the field. At this rate they'd get flanked in no time. Catherine seemed aware of this and tugged on his jacket.

"We're moving back! Fall back, I'll cover. Get to the structure behind us."

John didn't have to be asked twice. He ducked and ran, hearing the rattle of Catherine's rifle covering his escape. Coming to a sliding stop, he turned to fire and noticed that two endoskeletons had moved down past Kyle's flank. They hadn't seen him yet, but it was only seconds before they did.

John moved down the line, firing at the two of them. He hoped to draw them long enough to get someone to notice. The terminators turned towards him and opened up, shredding sheet metal and spraying sand everywhere.

"At least they see me." He mused.

"Connor! What did I tell you?" Catherine was looking at him from her place behind the hutch, but John could only shrug his shoulders. She saw the endoskeletons beyond him and understood. They were too close to Kyle. He could be punished later. She reached to her belt and pulled the flash bang, hurling it to an area just off to the side.

John saw the grenade fly over his head and took a deep breath. He was only going to have a second, maybe two, this much he was sure of. He checked his rifle and when he heard the bang, rolled out on the opposite side of the hulk.

Sight, pull, kill.

The rifle jerked in his hands as he felt a dozen rounds fly from his fingertips. Only a few of them hit, but they were enough. One endoskeleton jerked as it was struck in the shoulder, then the neck and finally the head, going down in a shower of sparks. He was drawing down on the next one as he saw that it already had him dead to rights. Almost as a reflex he dropped to the ground face first, firing all the way.

He knew before he hit the ground that not a single shot had hit the mark, and he didn't have enough time to think about actually dying, so when he didn't feel the white-hot plasma cut into the back of his torso he looked up to see where it had all gone right.

Kyle Reese had seen the endo after all. He was picking John up off the sand, dragging him back to where Weaver was covering their escape.

"Derrick! We are leaving!" His voice was hoarse and throaty as he barked out this polite suggestion.

Derrick didn't waste any time. Once his brother and John were in position they turned around and covered his retreat. Alison was still on the firing line, however.

"Come on Alison! Jesus..." It was too late for him to turn around so he just ran, his feet digging deep into the sand.

She'd heard the remark by Kyle and his brother knowing full well what she was doing. She gave him another second or two before slinging her rifle over her shoulder. Her belt slid off her hips, disengaging the pins from her three grenades along the way and with a single deft movement she tossed it over her barrier and heard the satisfying sound of the grenades clacking against a metal frame. A second later there was an explosion that sent bits of hyperalloy in every direction.

It was a one-shot deal, but was it worth it? As the metal rained down over her head she couldn't help but think 'Oh yes.'

Meanwhile on the other end of the firing line things had become somewhat rough. Gabriel was incredible. His endorifle never actually stopped firing as he swung it across the field, dealing laser guided plasma to three units on a single sweep. For all his learned skill and cunning however, the enemy countered in numbers. John was watching as Gabriel ducked down one more time. As he rose up to fire again, a hail of plasma fire struck him in the torso. Several of the rounds went right through. He took a step backwards and then collapsed near the shoreline.

"Shit!" John struggled to dislodge his magazine. "They got Gabriel."

Derrick and Kyle were to his left, Alison reloading as they repelled the assault. Only minutes into combat their plan had broken down. They were just firing at whatever they could see. The General had held the front of the line for as long as he possibly could.

"John, can I get a little cover fire. Gabriel is down. We need to move across the river." James sounded almost calm over the radio.

"Yeah, yeah we've got you. Come on!"

Connor and Weaver stood shoulder to shoulder as they struggled to find targets. The advancing units had moved out of the main firing lines and were now using their previous sanctuaries to continue the assault. John saw James turn to move and then watched in horror as a single endo jumped the barrier, landing only feet from the Generals right flank.

John didn't dare fire - they were to close. The General seemed oddly calm however, and in that moment he began to understand just what it meant to be part man, part machine.

The endo had a rifle and raised to fire, but in a movement that John could only describe as faster than any man he had ever seen James put his fist through the weapon, planting a heavy blow to the chest of the endoskeleton. It toppled backwards, the rifle landing in broken pieces all around it. Another terminator jumped over and landed behind James. John raised his rifle to shoot - he had no choice.

"Don't! Don't you'll hit him!" Alison pulled the barrel down to the ground.

"He's going to get-"

"He's fine! Just watch him!" She scolded him.

John relented, resigned to having to watch Ellison die right before his eyes. He didn't dare look away.

James had seen the other terminator out of the corner of his eye even as he knocked the first to the ground. He spun on his heels, drawing his sidearm in a single fluid motion as he turned. The endo anticipated, grasping at the weapon just enough to turn the first two shots into the ground.

James took hold of its wrist and pulled it nearer to him, his face set in fury as he plied for control of his own weapon. The hand cannon spun in his grip and he felt the trigger under his thumb. He jammed the gun into the endoskeletons chin and pulled the trigger three times.

John could hardly believe it. Here was a man - a half-machine man in close combat with a terminator. And winning. The first endoskeleton had hardly risen to its feet before James he dispatched the other with three deft shots.

"Woah..." Was all he could say.

The General was not finished. Without a rifle, the other seven hundred was forced to engage him and for just a moment John saw it hesitate. James bore the rush, firing twice into its chest as it ran towards him. The rounds bounced off its breastplate but slowed it down just enough for him to get his other arm up where he could do some damage. With one big paw he smashed the side of its face, leaving deep dent along its temple. Stunned, it was vulnerable. James capitalized with another shot to the face, and this time the round found home.

"See John? He got those stars for a reason." Alison whispered to him, or maybe he just heard it as a whisper.

Soon the General was next to him again, wiping the blood from his face. There was a wound above his eye and John could see his endoskeleton peering from a large gash in his thigh. "The last dropship is coming in!"

This was all they needed. They had managed to down maybe twenty of the terminators, not including the two that James had just manhandled, but now they were sure to be flanked. John felt the downdraft as the second dropship flew overhead dangerously close to the ground. It opened up its hanger. They had been outmaneuvered.

They had all seen the dropship and were prepared for the worst. Each of them was stunned as they saw it crumple in the sky, and each of them noticed the gaping exit wound that had begun at some unseen angle, but exited through the right front engine. The fireball was truly fantastic, followed by the deafening sound of metal blades coming free from their driveshaft. There was another loud crack, and the hanger exploded on a burst of shrapnel.

"What the hell..." Kyle let out a confused gasp.

"Is that a Rook?" John heard Derrick say. "Where the hell did that come from?" Derrick motioned to the east where something was headed towards them.

Whatever it was, it was big. John thought it must have been at least a few meters taller than the Ogre. It trundled along on six legs, making slow but steady progress towards the battle line. In appeared to be armed with only a single weapon, but this one counted: A huge rifle with a barrel as long as the beast was tall.

It fired again and John could only describe the sound as an Olympian thunderclap. The ground shook, he felt the heat from the blast and heard the shell as it flew through the sky. It was a damned good thing it wasn't shooting at them.

Downrange the other dropship had begun to lift off. It wasn't in the air for ten seconds before it suffered the same fate as its twin, crashing into the riverbed where it would sit, roasting in its own fuel until the wee hours of the morning. It was a beautiful thing to behold.

The Rook had another effect. The six of them realized that they were no longer being fired upon. Whatever terminators were left were now using the Rook as target practice. The behemoth turned the attacks away like bugs on a windshield. It fired again, this time leaving a smoking crater where a few endoskeletons had been before. The remaining soldiers took this opportunity to reload and regroup. They watched as several terminators strode right past their hiding space. When enough had shown their backs, they opened fire and finished off these few with ease.

The battle had lasted only minutes but each side had left its mark. The Valley was filled with blowing black smoke and the smell of fried electronics. Whatever terminators were left were in a controlled retreat as if guided by some higher authority. The Rook, or whoever was driving it, did not pursue.

Catherine looked at John with a smile. "I would wager that this is John Henry."

John wasn't listening. With the battlefield calm again he took stock of what had happened. Everyone was alright, more or less. The humans had taken little damage. There were a few bruises and a lot of ringing ears but all in all they had come through looking good.

John walked over to Gabriel's corpse. The hole in his chest must have been a foot wide and what was left of him smelled like charred meat. The head, however, was still intact. He flipped out his knife and dug into the CPU port.

"What are you doing?" It was Alison.

"Getting Gabriel, what does it look like?" He pulled the CPU from its socket and stuffed it in his pack, sealing it with a zipper. "Might be able to bring him back."

"Most people wouldn't do that." She said.

"Why not?"

"Well, I don't know. He's just -"

"A machine, right?"

She nodded only slightly, dropping her shoulders. "Thanks for looking out for Kyle."

"We're even. He saved my ass, I saved his, it all works out." He motioned towards the Rook. "What is this thing?"

"Well, it's a Rook. We haven't seen one of these things in ages. Old technology. I didn't even know there were any still around. SkyNET used them in the early years of the war."

John thought about what Catherine had said. It had shown up just in time, and now it was parked not a hundred meters away. He could hear the steady groan of what sounded like a diesel engine. The machine seemed to be old indeed. Its sides were flanked in oil and grit with rivulets of rust running down the front and back. Its legs seemed to be driven by old-style hydraulics, the kind you'd see on an earthmover.

James joined as they made small talk. He looked at Gabriel, then at John. "I saw you take the chip."

"Yeah, I've got it right here."

James seemed to think something over. "What do you plan on doing with it?"

John shrugged. "I hadn't thought that far ahead, to be honest. Just seemed like it might be a good thing to keep. It's Gabriel, you know? His chip is him. Maybe we could rebuild him."

"Well, I suppose we'll pack it in then. If you can fix him maybe I'll keep you around John." James bent over and picked up the broken endoskeleton as easily as someone might pick up a child. He would have marched off without another word, leaving John somewhat uneasy with his reaction.

"General, wait..."

Jams turned around, but didn't say anything. He seemed to be waiting for a word, some action from the boy for whom they had already given so much. "I just think it's the right thing, you know."

"I know John." He turned around and continued onward to the dam and towards the confrontation with whomever or whatever lay inside.

Alison watched as John furrowed his brow, unconsciously rubbing the pack where he had stashed Gabriel's chip. He looked puzzled, maybe even a little sad. She closed the distance and put one hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry about it; it's the right thing to do."

"I just don't understand. He seemed so sad, I don't know..." He trailed off into his thoughts.

"Well John, imagine that after you've seen people killed your entire life, and then you get a soldier who can't die, I think it just makes the General think. Sometimes, I swear he treated Gabriel like he was one of us. It's complicated."

He let out a sigh. "Must be."

'One of us.'

After that they made haste for the dam. The Rook turned to follow them as well, making a tremendous racket along the way. There was an unspoken urgency within the group. No one knew how long it would take SkyNET to retaliate, but they all knew that the machines never sleep. And somewhere in the back of their minds they knew that next time, the machines would leave nothing standing.