Chapter One: Down the Rabbit Hole

May 14, 1998

The library was still and nearly empty. No one was speaking, and though it was a victory and a time for celebration, no one was in a mood for it. It hadn't been a victory without loss. Even Cordelia was speechless, unable to fully appreciate what had happened. They had lost classmates before, from vampires or demons or the odd werewolf, but this was something different. It was more real, given how close they had been to Xander.

Angel couldn't help but feel guilty. While it had been Angelus that had pulled the sword from the statue of Acathla, he had his own part to play in the events that had led up to Xander winding up in the portal. Dead, if he was lucky. Or in some hell dimension experiencing torture beyond imagination.

"He's gone," Willow said numbly, her eyes red. She had just been released from the hospital, and much of her time had been spent clearing up what had happened in the library when Kendra had been attacked and killed. Buffy had been cleared, but it seemed a marginal victory at best.

Oz put a comforting hand on his girlfriend's hand, not speaking as was his manner. He hadn't been that close to the guy one year below him in school, but he knew that Xander had been one of Willow's closest friends growing up. It couldn't have been easy for her, nor for the rest of the group for that matter.

"We don't know that," Buffy said, nearly snapping at her redheaded friend. It wasn't deserved, but she couldn't help it. She looked up at Giles as he stood over the table that they had all gathered around. He didn't look too well either. He had explained what had happened, and she knew that he was blaming himself for not holding Xander back, though he had hardly been in the position to do so. "It was a portal right? It had to go somewhere right? We can figure out where, and get him back."

The Watcher shook his head slowly. "I'm afraid it's not that simple. The texts on Acathla do not say exactly where the portal would come from or what dimension that it is linked to, only that the world would be sucked into hell as a result of its opening. There are multiple dimensions that he could have ended up in. And that's assuming that he could survive wherever it is that he ended up long enough for us to find him. If we ever can."

"We have to try," Buffy stated strongly. Xander had stupidly tried to help, as he often did. She had to admit that his presence was usually for the better, as he had gone after her when she had confronted the Master a year ago. Buffy couldn't help but feel responsible for what had ended up happening. To all of them, if she was honest to herself. If she had killed Angelus earlier when she had had the chance, then it would have never come down to having to have Xander go through the portal to stop Acathla from destroying the world. If she had killed Angelus when she had had the chance, Ms. Calendar would still be alive. There were other students that she knew had likely been killed because she had not had it in her to kill Angelus. The Slayer looked down at the smooth surface of the large central library table, trying to imagine what Xander could be going through. It was enough to almost make her burst into tears. The sadness, anger, and self-loathing mixed and twisted into determination. She looked up at her Watcher, hoping that he knew as much as she believed he did. "We have to try."

xxx

March 25, 2021

Xander knew that he stank. Sweat, grease, blood, and ash coated his body and stained the ragged clothing that he wore. He had gotten used to it though, survival taking primary concern over the niceties of life. He couldn't imagine what had happened when he went through the portal though. He wasn't sure if he was in an alternate dimension. If the books had gotten it right and he was in a hell dimension someplace adjacent to Earth. It didn't matter though. Survival took precedence over the exact mechanics of what had happened. He did know that if Acathla had been able to suck the world into this one, then it would have gone to hell, and everyone he knew would be in his same position. But, while he had imagined horns and pointed tails, the truth was gleaming metal and glowing red eyes. It was a win for the good guys, though it wasn't without cost. It did suck that it was him that had to pay for it though. But, if he had had to do it all over again, he probably would do the exact same thing.

Coughing, Xander wiped a dirty gloved hand across his nose. He knew that in some point of view, that he had been one of the lucky ones there. He had been tagged for further investigation during his capture, the machines wanting to know exactly how he had arrived there. He had explained, but the Skynet intelligence units didn't have a direct frame of reference for magic. They knew about demons, but it wasn't like Skynet could do magic itself. The machine's sensors said he was telling the truth, and further probing had verified it, but it was not something that it could use. So he had been processed and sent to work.

That probably saved his life. From the way that he had had it described to him and had witnessed for a couple of months, the machines randomly picked from the able-bodied to work for them. Sometimes some of the younger ones were picked to perform maintenance work that couldn't be done efficiently by the machines in their rather large and bulky frames. It was more efficient evidently than specially designing machines themselves for some reason, or maybe Skynet just wanted to use the process to mentally beat humanity into submission. The rest of the humans were simply disposed off. First by gas, with the human workers then loading the bodies into large mechanical cremators. Those giant ovens ran night and day, the humans working in sixteen hour shifts. The heat of the monstrosities turned the camp into an inferno, the oppressive heat probably what hell was supposed to feel like in some poetic cosmic happenstance.

Scratching at his new tattoo, Xander looked across from him. The rest of the people that were crowded in the communal living quarters were in the same shape that he was in. Dirty and thin, with dead eyes that had the same thousand-yard stare from seeing too much death and not being able to do a damn thing about it. It had been a couple of months for him, and he couldn't imagine how many bodies he had moved. Thousands, hundreds of thousands. Maybe more. He hadn't tried to keep count. It hurt less that way. He knew that some had been in the camp longer. Years longer.

"You shouldn't scratch that," a voice said, the owner of it taking a seat next to Xander. The man settled himself on the hard ground and leaned back against the old concrete-reinforced wall of their prison. He was one of the old vets of the place. The man had been there since 2015. "Infection sets in, and you're fucked."

"Yeah, wouldn't want that, now would we," Xander said, looking over at the person that had taken a seat next to him. It was Martin, one of the other unlucky sons of bitches that had been pulled for the detail. He couldn't imagine how bad the man had it; how he had managed to survive six years in the hellhole he had only been in a couple of months. Martin was in his early thirties, with shaggy light brown hair and pale blue eyes, made even paler by the ash. A couple of scars marred his left cheek, right under his eye. A gift from some terminator during his rather lengthy imprisonment he had told Xander.

Martin looked around, noting the defeated looks on so many of the peoples' faces. They sat staring at nothing, some idly chewing the energy bars they had been given for sustenance. Just enough to allow them to work their next shift without keeling over. There was no defiance there, there usually never was. It was harder and harder to find men and women that still had some fire in their eyes. Too many had just given up; dead men walking. "John wants to see you."

"Really," Xander said, furrowing his eyebrows. He'd met the man a few times, and had been rather impressed. In his mid-thirties, John Connor had seemed out of place amidst the weary laborers. He never looked to have been beaten down by the Machines. Not like the other poor schmucks who were just trying to survive until the inevitable. Like cattle to the slaughter, if they weren't human. Never anger though. John never had anger for the humans that seemed to have given up the ghost. "Where is he?"

"Not here," Martin replied, looking up. He heard the sound of turbo fans from above as a transport approached the camp quickly. It grew louder as the transport shifted its props to hover mode, centering itself over the docking collar at the rear of the camp. The sound started to wind down as the airborne vehicle settled down and docked at the cargo staging area, ready to disgorge its load of captured humans.

Xander just frowned, knowing what the sound meant. The transports could hold hundreds of people, and they would be shoved down corridors and laser-scanned. Some would become workers to replace those that died, the rest being exterminated immediately, the tags mostly a formality at this point. Recordkeeping for Skynet.

It was ruthless and efficient. It was everything a machine would do. Martin had explained it to him. Explained it all. Judgment Day. The end of the world. Somehow computers had gotten advanced enough to take over everything, deciding that humanity was a threat that had to be eliminated. No emotions came into it. It was threat assessment. Emotions on the side of the humans in their fear to pull the plug on the rapidly evolving artificial intelligence that they had previously delighted in. Pure calculation and logic ending in only one solution. War. It had taken only microseconds for Skynet to come to that conclusion, and they were all paying the price for the hubris of mankind.

"Let's go," Martin said, standing up and walking forward, weaving his way in between the multitude of people sharing the too small room. Xander followed him, noticing a few looking at them with curiosity. Not that many, and as soon as they had passed, the eyes fell. Passivity founded upon the overwhelming strength that was the machine. Neither man could blame them.

It would be easy to give up. Martin had been tempted to himself, despite the fact that he had faced more hardship than many of them. Military school to West Point, he had known more discipline and had more survival instinct instilled in him than most. And even he had been tempted to give up. Until John Connor had found him.

xxx

August 12, 1998

Xander looked down both sides of the landing that he was on, making sure that nobody was taking too much of an interest in his presence. There were a few walking throughout the apartment complex, but he knew that it wasn't likely that he'd be able to clock any as terminators until it was too late. As it was, it was a good thing that he didn't recognize any faces. All the Resistance members that lasted any amount of time usually picked up a few models. Of course, that had largely been a process of trial and error.

Knocking on the door, Xander fidgeted as he waited for the door to open. He heard movement from the interior, and it wasn't long before the way was cleared. From inside, a man in his late seventies peered out, looking up at him.

Brow furrowed, it took the elderly man a few moments to figure out exactly who he was looking at. "Xander."

Xander nodded, smiling. It had truly been a long time. More for the old man than for him. More shenanigans thanks to the time stream.

"C'mon in," the man said, stepping back and waving the younger Resistance fighter inside his apartment. He had had the place for quite a while, renovations occurred at times as the decades changed, but he had always stayed. It was near the 105, as well as one of the buildings that he had had a hand in designing. The most important one. That was his day job though. He had done much much more. And had been waiting, maybe not for Xander in particular, but for ones like him. Soldiers.

Xander took a seat on an old couch, leaning back against its still plush surface. He looked over as the man went into the kitchenette and opened the refrigerator. "Do you want me to…"

"It's fine." The man waved a hand, indicating that he could do it himself. He walked back with a couple of beers in hand and took a seat on a recliner that cornered the sofa. He screwed the top off of one of the beers and handed it to Xander, undoing the top of his own as well. After taking a long pull from the bottle, he spoke, "I suppose I know why you're here."

"Yeah. Connor sent me." Xander took a sip from his beer too. Then a longer one. It was a lot better than the stuff that they had had to drink in the future past. And it was cold. It was the simple pleasures in life that one found themselves missing now. Ironic that.

The man nodded, smiling grimly, lines deepening on his face. He had lived so long, in relative peace that it had seemed almost like a dream what he had been through earlier in life. A dream that resulted in him waking up in a sweat every now and again. "You know, it felt like I was abandoning you. All of you, when Connor asked me to go back."

"It had to be done," Xander reassured the man. Time again. He knew that the same thought had been brewing through his head too. But orders were orders. And the mission came first. Even if they were spread as thin as they were back home. "It is good to see you Earl."

"You too," the engineer said, smiling wider. A real one this time. Thirty years had gone by since he had last seen Xander. But, for the younger man, it had been but months. If that. Xander looked no different than he had since the last time they had spoken.

Earl Boykins, engineer and creator of the one Resistance time machine in the 20th century drained his bottle. He stood up and walked into the bedroom, leaning down and pulling a case from underneath his bed. He carried it back to the main room, pulling it up and laying it on top of the coffee table in front of his fellow soldier.

Pulling it closer to him, Xander smiled briefly as he opened it. He ran a hand over an emblem that had been pasted onto the surface of the inside lid. It was a black shield, with a red helix in the center. A yellow sword pointed upwards overlaid on the DNA helix. It was the Resistance coat of arms, something that one of them had come up with in the spare time they had while hiding from the machines. Xander looked closer and took stock of what was inside of the case. He knew that this was only one of a number.

"I'll write down the address of the storage locker. Your storage locker," Boykins said, standing up again as Xander rooted through the container.

Xander nodded, pulling out a small handgun. It wouldn't do much against metal, but it was better to be armed with something. He slipped in a magazine that had been seated next to it in molded foam, racking the slide and making sure that it was good to go. Placing the handgun behind his back and securing it in his waistband, Xander looked up.

Boykins handed Xander a slip of paper, the address to one of the Resistance weapons dumps that he had set up in the area. He had had a long time to accumulate such equipment, especially at a time when security was laxer and computers weren't in everything.

"Thanks," Xander said, slipping the paper into a pocket. He would wait until dark to arm up more, the night giving him the option of have Burke there to back him up, and for heavy lifting. Picking up his beer, Xander finished it quickly, savoring the last of it in his mouth before swallowing.

Earl hesitated, before speaking again. "There's one more thing."

"Yeah?" Xander asked, watching as the man reached under the coffee table and pulled out a large photo album from the flat lower level underneath.

Opening the book, Earl flipped through it until he reached the right page, turning it around and handing it to Xander.

It took Xander a moment before he realized what it meant. It was an article, yellowed with age, about an explosion at a factory in 1984. There was a picture that accompanied it, of the man that was suspected to be behind the attack. "Kyle. So that's where he went. Damn."

"Yeah," Earl said, nodding in sympathy. He had more time to deal with it, but it wouldn't be that way for Xander. "Imagine having to open up the newspaper and reading that."

"Did he…did he try to come here?" Xander asked, staring at the picture. It was black and white and sensationalistic, and missed the truth completely. He could still remember Kyle, his gentle nature that belied how good of a soldier he truly was. One of Connor's best and most trusted.

"No. I don't know," Earl said slowly. "I was in Boston. Setting up a site. It was a month before I found out. I don't even know if he tried to come here looking for me."

"Do you know where-" Xander tried to say.

"No," Boykins said sharply, interrupting. "And that's not something you're supposed to be wondering about. Connor's orders. We aren't to go near his mother. We can't afford to bring metal down on her. Or him."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. But, Kyle. I can't believe it." Xander stood up and picked up the case, leaving the bottle behind. It was the way of things though. He had lost a lot people before. As close as Kyle had been, and closer.

Funny to think that Kyle had died over a decade ago. Even though he had seen him a couple of months past. And Derek would be devastated if/when he found out. If he hadn't already, in some future time that was happening right now.

Boykins walked Xander to the door, stopping before he opened it. It was like feeling Kyle's death all over again. "It was good to see you again, sir."

"Yeah, I guess that's right," Xander said, smiling sadly. He had ended up as a first lieutenant before he had been sent back. Boykins was or had been a field engineer. A damn good one that had figured out the Skynet tech behind time travel extremely fast. Wasn't hard, the machines made the most efficient designs after all. It had just been a matter of transcribing the design to a format that could be used in the sixties, and knowing what was needed to put it all together in the past. "It's the last time that I'm going to see you, isn't it."

"Yeah." Earl nodded, smiling back. "You only get one."

That was the way of it. Unless one wanted to make theft, petty and not so petty, a way of life, the Resistance fighters would need supplies in the past. The one sent the farthest back was the logical choice to set up those supplies. Of course, it was also a risk. So everyone only got one. Xander was the first. Maybe even the only one, given how old he was getting.

"Hang in there, baby." Earl moved in and hugged the younger man impulsively. An effect of the years; one was allowed to do such things in old age.

Xander was surprised, but hugged his old friend back after a moment. It was like hugging a grandfather instead of a fellow soldier.

"You too," Xander said, as Boykins let go, grasping the door knob with his free hand. He opened the door, turning his head to look back over at the man that had aged three decades since last they saw each other. Months for him, decades for the other. A lifetime for another man that couldn't be there. "Thanks."

xxx

"What's the first step?" Burke said, pulling a couple of M79 grenade launchers from a crate. He slipped them into a canvas bag, putting in a few metal cases of grenades as well. The demon looked over his shoulder at Xander who was taking inventory of the other equipment that was in the large storage unit that Boykins had rented.

"You remember where you are right now?" Xander asked, pumping the action on a shotgun and feeling the weight of it. It was remarkably low-tech in many ways, though they still saw their use in the war against the machines. He'd gotten quite handy with a similar model over the years.

"New York," Burke said, moving on to the next shelf. He opened up another duffle bag and started to load it with bricks of C4 and detonators. This was just one of a number of places where such weapons were kept, each unknown to the other. He suspected that Connor had had Boykins set up sites not only for the usage of Resistance soldiers in the past, but also so that they would have weapons to use in the future. It would give them a head start, and maybe even shave off some of the time it took to win the war.

Xander nodded. They couldn't exactly go there. They couldn't exactly go for younger-Burke. If something happened to younger-Burke as well as the two of them, then it meant that Burke wouldn't exist in the future to join the Resistance. Or so the theory went. No, they would have to go for people that weren't currently, in the future at least, in the Resistance. Of course, they'd also need to find a way to convince people, but he figured that there might be some magical way that might help. That was a secondary objective though. His primary one was to just to find intelligence on who might be willing to join the Resistance in the future, if they were to survive Judgment Day as well as how Skynet actually came to be. To make plans to maximize the possibility of survival. "Sunnydale. We're heading to Sunnydale."

Burke turned and fixed Xander with a tight expression. They'd been through a lot, so he knew quite a bit about Xander's history. "You so sure that that's a good idea? The Slayer's going to be there. And she knows you on sight. That's attention that we don't need."

Xander shrugged. Burke was right, but he had his reasons.

Burke sighed and stepped forward, confronting Xander and crossing his massive arms across his chest. "If this is about Lauren…"

"It's not…it's not about her," Xander said, lips tight. It wasn't exactly. He would have wanted to go there anyway, but that wasn't the point. "You want to go looking for demons, you go to the Hellmouth."

"And you want to check up on your friends," Burke noted. It wasn't really a question, and didn't need to be one. He knew the human that well. His protective streak a mile wide.

"Yeah well, that too." Xander had to admit, that that had been a tertiary goal. The mission came first, but there were always those things. Things that they would have wanted to see, if they had a second chance. He imagined that Derek would want to see his brother again. That had to be more painful than anything he would see on the Hellmouth.

"Just so we know what we're doing," Burke said, turning back to his work. Connor had asked him to make sure that Xander's head was on straight for this. Given his recent loss, their leader had wanted to ensure that Xander wouldn't take any unnecessary risks and jeopardize the mission. The demon was sure that his commanding officer wouldn't, though he knew that gentle reminders couldn't hurt.

"We're going to need ID's," Xander said, knowing that while he might be able to get away with using his old one, it'd require getting back into the system to request a new copy. And that was information that could be used against him if Skynet came looking. Not to mention all the uncomfortable questions that would go along with it.

Burke turned to glance at him.

Xander looked back, shrugging. "Well, I'm going to need an ID."

xxx

It had been a couple of weeks. The case that Earl had given them contained a good amount of money, in addition to a few weapons, as well as ways to get more. Knowledge of the future had come in handy, and though the exact details had been lost for much, Boykins had had enough to make quite a bit in the stock market. Never enough to cause any real changes to the timeline, but enough to set up drops and fund any Resistance soldier that came through.

Xander waited as his computer booted up. He had gotten used to the tech that they had managed to scavenge in the future. Even taking into account that it had been cobbled together from various sources, their systems still ran much faster than a Pentium running Windows 95.

"I don't like this." Burke stood in front of the large window that faced the street below, the neon sign outside reflecting off the glass. He could see out, but nobody could see in. Night had fallen, but there were still people walking down the promenade, stopping at shops or even going to see a movie at the theater that their new apartment was located above.

"Yeah, well there aren't that many leads we have to go on," Xander said, connecting a browser to the Internet and typing in a few search terms into a search engine. It was primitive, but the war had left them without any real resources. If it hadn't been for him, Connor would never have learned about this piece of the Skynet puzzle. If it was even connected. "Shit."

"What is it?" Burke turned around and moved towards the kitchen where Xander was seating at the table in the center of it. He leaned over and looked at what the computer screen was displaying. It was a news article about a computer buyout that had happened about six months ago.

"Calax Research and Development was bought out. Their patents, IP, all of it had been purchased by Cyberdyne and CRS. Joint venture apparently. And, the local facility has been turned into an off-site high security server farm. Backup data storage also." Xander frowned. It would likely mean greater security than what had been in place when Buffy and he had broken in the last time. More security and actual people working there. "It still has some R&D going on though. I guess it wasn't worth it to move everything out to another site."

Xander got up and walked into the main room, headed towards the large closet that was set inside one of the side walls. He opened it up and pulled out a metal case.

"What do you want me to do?" Burke asked, watching as Xander armed himself. They had fashioned appropriate weapons for the environment in addition to guns they had acquired, meaning that the human would be carrying a couple of stakes as well.

Xander pulled a light jacket on, hiding the weapons that he had strapped on. Turning, he spoke, "see if you can pull up an employee list. Cross-reference it with what you can get on Cyberdyne. If anybody was transferred, especially in the research division, it may give a place to start looking."

"And you're going to do what exactly?" Burke asked, frowning. Backup would have been a better idea, although he knew that Xander could take care of himself.

"Just a look around," Xander replied. He headed into the short hallway that led to the entrance to the apartment. "See what kind of security they have."

xxx

They had been patrolling for an hour or so, and hadn't come across any vampires. Present company excluded of course. It had been months since Xander had disappeared, and though they had slowly started to get over it, it still left a hole in the group. Giles had looked relentlessly in the first weeks after Xander's disappearance, but all of that research had come to naught. Those weeks had turned longer and slowly Giles had stopped devoting as much time to it. They still looked, when there was some flash of an idea, or someone felt guilty, but it was getting less and less. Nobody wanted to say it, but they were also losing more and more hope.

The graveyard the pair was walking in was deserted. Nobody was rising, and there would be no visitors during the night. The air was still over the grassy field, the streetlights illuminating a few of the closest graves.

"How has school been," Angel said, trying to fill the silence with something. He knew that Buffy still blamed him somewhat for what had happened, and he really couldn't blame her. Giles likely felt the same way, as did the rest of them. It might not have been completely unfair, but he could understand it. It was something he had to cope with, and it wasn't like he didn't have the time.

Buffy shrugged, saying nothing for a few moments. "We just started. The rumors are still flying around, about what happened with Kendra and everything. But, since I'm still there it's dying down."

"And Xander?" Angel asked with some hesitation. "What are they saying about his disappearance?"

The Slayer didn't answer, looking away and surveying the grassy field. Gray tombstones and markers dotted it in various places, a testament to how many people had lost their lives in the town. Too many by far. She wondered how many she could have saved.

"What classes are you taking?" Angel said, changing the subject.

Buffy just stared at him, finding it an odd question. It was like it suddenly came to her whom she was dating.

"I think it's clear," Angel said, changing the subject again, noticing the bewildered expression on Buffy's face. "We can check by the warehouse district and call it a night."

Buffy just nodded.

xxx

Xander stood in the shadows of the building across the street from the rear of the Calax facility. Putting a night scope up to his eye, he scanned the building and the surrounding area, taking particular interest in the loading dock and the areas that weren't normally seen by visitors. There were multiple security cameras doing continuous sweeps of the rear, and it was likely that there would be more all around the building and parking lot intent on ferreting out people that shouldn't be there.

Another fence had been installed, just inside the old one, with long metal covered cables running to it. It was electrified, another measure to keep people out. There were probably reinforced doors and additional security systems inside as well. A frontal, or even direct rear assault would be suicide. If there was anything inside Calax, Xander knew that he'd have to find another way.

Hearing movement, Xander shoved the scope into a jacket pocket, turning and stepping into an alleyway that formed the boundary between two warehouses. Xander ducked behind a dumpster, resting his back against it and turning his head toward the sounds of people approaching. His gun was already out and ready, a reflex that had been ingrained so deeply that he didn't even need to think about it. He didn't know if it was people from Calax, but he wanted to be ready just in case.

It was a position that he had been in all too many times before.

xxx

September 14, 2022

All that could be heard was the crunching of metal on metal as the heavy tonnage of the HK tank made its way down the street. Its torso tracked side to side, the sensor suite enclosed in its head constantly searching out signs of human life for extermination. It was on lone patrol, in steady communications contact with an aerial unit that was assigned to the area in case it was ambushed. Usually it wasn't necessary for the tank to call in reinforcements. Improvements in armor and weapons technology had been made a geometric rate, far surpassing anything that the so-called Resistance could develop to fight against Skynet.

Reaching the end of the street, the HK turned, moving amongst piles of debris and concrete and upended pipes that used to be office buildings and shops. A couple of decades ago, there would have been a teeming human population that complained about the congestion and overpopulation in Los Angeles.

Not anymore though.

Xander breathed hard against the dirty gray cloth that he had wrapped around his face. His back was against an overhanging concrete block that had rebar sticking out along the sections that it had been blasted from. Turning his head, the Resistance soldier waited as he heard the tank slowly start to pass by. He had been taught that the machines used infrared at night to search out for them. The sensors they used were still not that sophisticated, and the humans found that they could block their heat signatures by hiding behind sufficiently large pieces of debris. The ruins helped them. Housed them and hid their presence from the untiring eyes of the machines.

He reached into a pouch that had been strapped to his shoulder and took out a demolition charge. It was a large cylindrical metal object with a handle at one end. Xander removed the dust plug and tested the circuit, waiting for it to go active. With well-practiced motions, Xander disengaged the safety, reaching up and grasping the handle. He twisted it clockwise, from safe to armed, priming the anti-tank charge. The light around the base of it flashing once in anticipation of its purpose. Training had engrained the instructions into his muscles, and he knew that it wouldn't start counting down until he let go of the handle. Xander looked over and nodded towards his partner who was hiding a few yards away as soon as he was ready.

He knew the man well. His fellow soldier was one of Connor's most trusted friends. A Los Angeles local, he had been a former football player. John hadn't hooked up with him in the camps, instead the man had been living with one of the scavenger groups that still inhabited the deepest dregs of the city, trying to survive rather than fighting back. The man had wanted more, and he had committed himself to the cause. Which was led to him being out that night, as the second man on the team.

That was the way of things. Two men sapper teams that scurried around the wasteland like rats, trying to take out what metal they could, scavenging what they could steal from the machines, or serving as decoys for a larger assault.

Barnes nodded back at his partner, taking a few crouched steps back and turning his grenade launcher towards a section of wall where there was a small gap. He aimed carefully, knowing that he only had one shot. The large man also had to be careful not to expose himself to the sensors of the ogre tank. They had started to see newer weapons than the high powered machine guns and cannons that the old versions used to have. Now they were using energy weapons of some kind, ones that could blast fast moving bursts of high-energy plasma at them. The concrete wouldn't matter much to the firepower the HKs had now if it chose to turn its attention to his general location.

Triggering his launcher, Barnes fired a thermal decoy across the front of the tank, aiming it as far across from them as he could. He didn't bother to just watch, knowing that he had his mark. The man had already pulled back, ducking behind the concrete wall as he pulled another rocket-propelled grenade from a bandolier that was strapped across his chest. This time it was a high explosive that had been modified with armor-piercing capability. Good enough on a multitude of the humanoid units that they had found themselves encountering.

The heat grenade traveled about twenty feet, before it ignited. A mixture of phosphorus, magnesium, and other chemicals created an extremely hot, but long-burning flame. It was perfect for drawing the attention of the HKs. The relatively primitive AI that was housed in the center of the torso of the tank did not think very well, performing only rudimentary analyses on the heat signature that it had just picked up. Headlights turned in the direction of the flare, scanning for its location. Swiveling its mounted plasma cannons at it, the HK attempted to get a lock on what it presumed to be a human trying to hide.

Xander heard the machine move further towards the decoy. He let go of the handle of the demolition charge and shifted it into a throwing position in a well-practiced move. He didn't have much time now as the fuse was already burning its way down its five second countdown. Stepping up and around the corner of the concrete wall, Xander flung the demo charge as hard as he could underneath the center of the tank, in the gap between treads where the armor was weakest and he could place it as close to the ogre's computer brain as he could.

He didn't bother to see if he had hit the mark, instead turning and diving back behind the concrete overhang. The machine intelligence in the tanks, though still relatively primitive, still thought faster than a human. Xander had seen more than one soldier get their guts blown out because they stuck around too long to admire their handiwork. Sometimes it was shrapnel and fragmentation from the explosion and compression wave that ripped through their bodies. Others didn't anticipate the speed in which the tanks could swivel their mounted guns.

The explosion sounded, and was all the evidence necessary to know that it had been a successful strike. Shrapnel flew in all directions as the armor of the tank was compromised, bits of hydraulics, gears, and wiring spewing out.

Xander smiled grimly as he heard the sound, picking up his shotgun and inching towards the corner again. He peeked out, making sure that the ogre had truly been slain and was not simply playing dead. Satisfied, Xander approached it quickly, sweeping the area back and forth with his shotgun while Barnes backed him up.

It wasn't like the shotgun would do much against such a beast. It was barely capable of bringing down one of the up-armored humanoid hunter-killers that Skynet deployed against them. It was filled with slugs, of course. Pellets being of no use against the titanium/coltan armor of the 700 series and up. It used to be easier, with assault rifles being useful against the 90 series and even the T-600's if the right areas were hit, but Skynet had soon adapted, creating and testing more and more varieties of machines against them.

"What do we got?" Barnes said, turning and scanning the area behind them. Another HK, probably an aerial version would be sent soon. Skynet was linked to all of its larger forces and would know when one was taken out. Especially on a routine patrol, it would be able to muster a recon force to determine what had happened quickly.

"Scrap metal," Xander said, nudging some of the twisted and burnt metal with a booted foot. He searched around for anything useful though. But, there usually wasn't. While the micro-fusion reactors that powered the ten meter tall behemoths were nuclear, they didn't go critical when blown to hell. It was one of the universe's little favors to them. Didn't mean that anything useful was left behind though.

Barnes nodded, glancing back towards Xander. "We should get going."

"Yeah," Xander noted, just as he heard the whine of an aerial HK start up in the distance. The search for them was already on. They needed to get underground quickly to avoid being found. They'd taken out another Skynet battle unit, that was enough for now. "Let's go."

xxx

August 27, 1998

His heart ached as he identified who it was that was walking across the alleyway. It had been seven years, but he could identify Buffy's voice anywhere. The other one had to be Angel, who would be a welcome sight as well. But, he couldn't jump out and greet them. That was part of the mission too. His presence back amongst them would be identifiable. It would raise too many questions and too many flags that would be noticed by the system.

Xander had checked the local missing persons reports as soon as he had gotten into town. He was there, starting a few weeks after he had disappeared. But, it had gone mostly unnoticed. His parents hadn't cared enough to try to keep it in the news and the public eye, and disappearances were a dime a dozen in Sunnydale. No one cared, and those that did would have known what happened, and how useless it would have been to plaster posters everywhere.

In some ways it was a boon that there were so many disappearances to cover his own disappearance. In case he ever had to deal with officials in an official capacity it would prove difficult to identify him if he was captured and uncooperative. Not to mention that he looked seven years older.

Hearing the voices fade, Xander relaxed a little, still on guard, but inside he slumped. It hadn't exactly been a close call, but it had hit like a gut punch. He was expecting it of course, but never something as close as that. He had to shake it off. He still had work to do.

xxx

Angel stopped as he started to round the corner past the warehouses that they had just walked behind. There had been no demon activity there either, a slow night all things considered. Maybe it was appropriate given that the number of teens out at night was not as high as it had been during the summer. Something stopped him though. He smelled something familiar. Something he couldn't quite place, but it felt very familiar.

"What is it?" Buffy said, turning around to look at the way that they had come. There was nothing that she could sense. No demons or vampires had jumped out to attack them, and nothing moving that she could hear.

Angel frowned, furrowing his brow. It played at the edge of his mind, but he couldn't quite get at it. He shook his head, shaking the feeling off. "Nothing. It's nothing. Let's go."

Buffy nodded, starting forward again and heading around the corner with Angel.

xxx

"Find anything?" Burke asked, looking up as Xander pulled out his handgun and laid on the counter. He had been digging around on the Internet as much as he could, trying to see what he could find out about the employees of Calax. He was no hacker, but he had learned some tricks about cyber-system security back home, and the systems used here were much more primitive. He could at least access some of the HR systems at the company, pulling down some of the employee and contractor lists, along with job titles. Cyberdyne would probably be a bit harder, but he had determined that there was a network connection between the two companies' computer systems that could be useful in penetrating the larger internal network.

"They've upgraded their security systems. I need you to see if they're running it through the city power grid, and if they have their own backups." Xander pulled the door to the refrigerator open, pulling out a soda. They kept it well-stocked, full of things that they hadn't had in almost a decade. Taking a seat at the kitchen table, he noticed Burke looking at him intently. "Please."

Bending down to work again, Burke tapped at the computer's keys with the tips of his claws. He had to be careful not to damage the machine. "Right. Do you have any idea what you're looking for?"

Xander shrugged. He was grasping at anything now. There were no orders from above anymore. "When Moloch happened, we didn't take the body with us. If Calax kept it, they could have kept working on it, trying to see what it…him tick. We have no idea what kind of jury-rigging Moloch did to make a robot body to tool around in."

"You're thinking that it could have been more mechanical than magical?" Burke asked. He had been briefed about Xander's experiences with the computer company. From his uncle's tenure there as part of the custodial staff, to the demon Moloch's usurpation of the company to try to become free of his noncorporeal form.

"We've seen the same things." Xander leaned back in his chair, thinking aloud. "Whether a computer brain or a mushy one, the same things need to happen to move a body. We have nerves and stuff, and the machines have neural nets and circuits. Moloch, he had to have used something."

"And that something could lead to the development of a neural net processor by Cyberdyne." Burke had to frown at the dark supposition. The brain for the national defense system of the most powerful country in the world being based on a demon that wanted to take over the world was not something that he wanted to think about. It made some sort of sense. Too much sense actually.

"It could explain why Cyberdyne is picking up steam again after its headquarters were blown to hell in '91," Xander threw out, referring to the reported destruction of the Los Angeles facility of the large computer development firm. They'd nearly gone out of business, but some strategic moves and divestitures had allowed the company to free up cash flow and reinvent itself.

Burke smiled grimly, the tips of his fangs showing through his lips. "I'll keep looking and see if I can pull up a list of Cyberdyne personnel that may be interacting with these guys. Any ideas on how you're going to get in?"

"Not yet," Xander admitted. He was thinking about it though. They were in for a long night.

xxx

Turning his head back and forth, Xander looked at himself in the mirror. He hadn't slept well, and there were bags under his eyes. It was odd, a bed was more than he had had in the future, but here he was, unable to take simple comfort in having the simple comforts.

Rubbing his chin, Xander heard his hand scraping against the stubble that had accumulated under there. He had stopped shaving, wanting to be able to be less recognizable to people that had known him. His hair had started growing out too, a little more fashionable than the chopped up mess he had had in the future, where scissors and mirrors had been a commodity. He looked younger than his years, odd though it was considering how the future tended to age people. The facial hair helped a little, but he could still tell that it was him. Especially the eyes.

He heard Burke walk around in the kitchen, probably preparing breakfast. One of the other simple comforts that they had been denied. He imagined that if he drove into Los Angeles, he could get to 10250 Santa Monica Blvd easily enough. Only now, it would be the Century City Mall, not Century Work Camp. Both would be filled with people, but only one of them by choice.

Xander sighed, washing his hands in the sink and drying them on a towel that hung on a rack next to it. He had work to do, and dwelling on the future didn't help stop it.

xxx

"So what is it that you're looking for?" the worker asked, hurrying to catch up to the man that was now walking down the concrete corridor, looking at the various animals that were kept in chain-link cages on either side.

Xander just kept looking, dismissing many of the dogs for various reasons. Too big, temperament looked off, age, breed there were a number of reasons not to pick most of them. It occurred to him that he should look for a park or something; he couldn't have a dog just lie around inside all day. "Something small, and young. I need something that can be trained."

"Like a guard dog or something?" the man inquired, catching up to the man that was a few years younger than him. He had only been working at the pound for a few weeks, but had heard about the different types that could come around looking for dogs. Most of them only wanted a companion, but it wasn't unknown for someone to come in looking for a fighter. It was odd to look for a small dog though. There were more likely candidates that had already been passed over, including a pure-bred German shepherd that had been found roaming the streets a little while ago.

"Just something that can bark. But, that can play with the kids," Xander said, looking at the man and smiling as innocently as he could. Size didn't really matter. After all, there was no chance that a dog of any size would be a match against a terminator if it came around. At best, it would be an early warning system for them, giving them a half minute or so head start at retreating. Bad news for the dog of course, which was unfortunate. They tended to get close to their guard dogs in the future, and the loss of any of them was not only a strategic loss, but the loss of a fellow soldier as well.

The man nodded, getting a good vibe off of the guy. Weird, but good. He had the feeling that Xander would take care of any dog that he placed with him. "Well, there's a rat terrier mix that we have. Good temperament. And he's pretty young too as far as we can tell. Stray, but we checked him out. He's healthy."

"Okay, let me see him." Xander followed the man further down the line, stopping in front of a cage. Xander knelt down as a small furry dog walked to the barrier, pushing its snout in between one of the empty gaps to sniff out the people that were in front of his cage.

Xander examined him carefully. The dog was small, white fur with black patches on the body, with brown fur around the eyes, a strip of white between them. One ear was bent while the other was cocked as the little dog examined him closely. Sticking a hand out carefully, Xander let the dog lick his fingers, seeing how the dog would react. The dog seemed to be a good choice, although he knew that terriers could be troublesome. It depended much on the training and discipline of course. They had been lucky that a few in the Resistance had experience with dogs and were able to train up a good quantity of them as guards to help screen people going into the bunkers. It had been John's idea, and he had been one of those tasked with finding strays and bringing them in. They'd lost a number of good soldiers before they had managed to get enough trained, most of them originally having gone feral in the years after Judgment Day. Of course, he would still have to make sure that the dog wouldn't bark at Burke.

"Good dog," Xander said, standing up and turning back towards the animal shelter employee. "I'll take him."

xxx

"Joseph Frakes. Ph.D. in computer science from CalSci. Undergrad at Berkeley, with an emphasis on artificial intelligence and quantum computing," Xander read off of one of the computer printouts that Burke had made during his time away. The demon had managed to find more names, one of which showed up in the human resources databases of both companies at one time or another. "Two years at Cyber Research Systems, five at Cyberdyne. And now he's head of R&D at Calax. Great."

"I still don't know what he's working on now though," Burke interjected, looking down as the small dog they now owned leaned against his lower leg and wagged its tail. He frowned, annoyed at the little dog's constant interest in him. Still, it was better than not having the canine there. "It could be completely unrelated to Skynet. It wasn't a transfer. He left Cyberdyne to work for Calax. We going to take him out?"

"Not yet." Xander flipped the page, reading further. There was little that was directly related to the future. At best, the researcher's background and education simply meant that he was qualified to be able to work on artificial intelligence systems. Frakes had published a number of papers on the development of AI systems, but nothing directly defense related.

There was a picture on the back page. Frakes was in his forties, with thinning hair, but a bright smile. It was a company-taken photo, but the man was wearing a Looney Tunes tie. A man with a sense of humor. Xander frowned as he stared at it, it used to be easier when it was just machines. "I want to know what kind of research they're doing at Calax before we do anything we can't take back."

"I can't get any further inside their systems from the outside. They have some pretty advanced cyber-security, I can't crack it with this." Burke pointed down at the laptop he had. It was ironic that more advanced technology would be a help now rather than a nightmare. "And I'm pretty sure the important stuff is going to be kept on systems without a direct connection to the outside. We'll have to go in to access them; I did manage to pull up some schematics and blueprints from the city planning office. Only easy part all day. Someone put in a couple of backdoors in the city's computer system, so it wasn't hard to crack."

The demon dropped an arm, extending his claws as the dog rubbed his back on them, scratching it. The little dog knew a good thing when he saw it.

Xander looked up at him, a stray memory crossing his mind of old friends. Before he had come back he hadn't thought about them for quite a while, but it was all starting to flood back with interest. "Buffy and Angel were there."

Burke stared at him for a moment before responding, sitting up straight at that bit of news. "The Slayer? Did she see you?"

"No," Xander said, shaking his head. He sighed, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes. There were quite a few other sheets to go through, but Frakes was the most promising lead for now. It did occur to him that he'd have to go try to find out what actually happened to Ted's remains as well. They had faced a lot more technology than it seemed. "I hid. But, she was on patrol near the building. Sunnydale ain't that big."

"Great," Burke replied sarcastically. Less than a month in town, and already they had almost been stumbled upon by someone that would actually recognize Xander. "I've put together a list of stuff we need to be able to break into the facility. If you think that's what we should try now."

Xander nodded, he could work on acquiring those during the day. "Only way to figure out what to do. I guess we can go get a closer look at Calax tomorrow night. I want you to hit Willy's during the day. See what's going on in town; if there's anything in particular we should be worrying about. Watch out for the Slayer though. There are some things we probably don't want to change here."

xxx

The pair of vampires walked down the street, a little more cautiously than they would have a few months ago. The Slayer had changed. While before she would be more carefree and therefore sloppy, she was much more focused on her work now. Which made it all the more dangerous for the nightlife that inhabited the Hellmouth.

They had already fed, the corpse hidden in a dumpster a few blocks back, when they heard the wind start to blow. It was localized though, with the trees that dotted the graveyard they were standing beside, still and unmoving in the night air.

"What's that?" one of them asked, turning towards the noise. He was the taller of the two, though very thin. He caught flashes of light, blue and purple and white, as the crackling of lightning sounded. Hopping the fence easily, he strode towards the light and sound, the other vampire trailing after him.

The two demons watched as a white sphere of light appeared between a few grey tombstones, expanding in size for a few seconds. It sparked, sending up lightning in all directions.

The first vampire squinted his eyes, raising an arm to block out the light that was nearly blinding in intensity. The shorter one looked on nervously, wondering if they should leave. He had only been around a few decades, but even he knew that curiosity could be deadly on the Hellmouth. Even for the likes of them.

The light stopped before they could decide what to do, disappearing to reveal a charred through circular area as if the energy sphere had been extremely hot. It seemed to have destroyed everything within, as a chunk of grass was missing. The stone of one of grave markers that the time bubble had crossed through was cut in half, the edge glowing red hot. In the middle of the circular depression crouched a figure, heavily built, but completely naked.

"What the hell?" the two vampires said, nearly simultaneously. They looked on as the man stood up, his muscles bulging as he approached the two. Standing, he was huge and built like a tank, but he looked human enough. The only frame of reference for the two of them was that it had to be some sort of magical portal to an alternate dimension, though one with humans.

The figure stopped in front of the two vampires, its eyes scanning back and forth at the pair. Looking the taller one up and down, it scanned the figure's topography analyzing its volume and dimensions to ensure that the clothing would fit. The naked cyborg looked further, scanning deeper with its thermographic sensors. The heat signature, or lack thereof, indicated that it was a vampire. As was the other one.

"Your clothes. Give them to me," the figure said, standing still as the two vampires walked closer, flanking it on both sides.

"Right," the first vampire said, shifting its face to reveal sharp fangs and yellow glowing eyes. A devilish grin marked his face. "I don't think that's what you have to worry about."

The cyborg said nothing, its left arm darting forward to grasp the vampire that had spoken by the throat. Not to choke, since vampires did not breath, but simply to keep it in place. The vampire grabbed the arm, trying to wrench itself free, but it was no use against the cold mechanical strength of the terminator. Looking to its right, the cyborg moved its right arm, its hand racing up and forward, grabbing the other vampire by the throat and twisting hard.

The movement crushed and broke the vampire's neck and spine completely, causing the demonically animated corpse to lose cohesion, turning it into dust.

The terminator turned back to the first vampire and tossed it to the grass, speaking unemotionally. "Now."

The vampire hurried to comply, taking off its jacket and shirt. It didn't know what the hell the being that had come through the portal was, but he had seen how easily his fellow vampire had been dusted. He didn't want to give the hulk any reason to do the same to him.

As soon as the vampire was done undressing, the terminator reached down and grabbed the vampire by the throat, twisting it and destroying the vampire in the same manner as he had dispatched the first. While it did not have to be subtle in carrying out its objectives, it did have programmed orders to make sure that its presence was as undetected as possible, including terminating anyone that had seen its appearance in the past.

Unspeaking, the machine crouched down and picked up the shirt that lay on the grass, dressing in silence. As it was dressing, the terminator looked up at the night sky to verify that the correct space-time coordinates had been reached, activating its primary objective. Skynet had loaded as much information as it could on its target, but there was not that much. It had a location and the general time. That would be enough of a start for its mission.