John held his new rifle up to his shoulder as he moved slowly around the pitcher's mound of the crumbling Dodger Stadium. In truth, the old baseball field was a sad sight compared to its old glory. It was dark and lifeless. The sad state of the field only caused John to feel even more on edge. He continued to eye the stands until he was sure that there were no Machines waiting in ambush.

"Clear." John hissed out.

Alison was the first to join him on the field. Kyle and Derek were next. The others soon followed in groups of ones and twos.

"Good work, Connor." Derek looked down at his watch. "Evac should be here in twenty minutes. Anderson, Hatch. Keep watch. The rest of us will take ten."

Derek and Kyle began moving towards the first base—or at least where first base should have been. As they passed by John, Derek reached out and grasped him around the shoulders. John smiled slightly as he followed them. The idea of spending some one on one time with the Reese brothers made him forget the dread of the environment around him. He missed being around Derek. His death had hit John hard and he still had not found time to mourn his passing. Kyle had died before John had ever had a chance to know his father. In some ways, this was his only chance to bond with his father.

"Dad use to bring us here to watch Dodger games before Judgment Day." Derek said as he sat down on a heap of stones. "I sure do miss the old man."

Kyle laughed as he crouched down and rubbed his hands together. "Do you remember when Dad took us to the Dodgers against the Rangers? He bought us each a thing of nachos. We sat them on the seat only to have Dad sit down on top of them."

Derek and Kyle both laughed. "He was so mad. He grounded us both for a week. Of course, I only think we were punished because the Dodgers lost that game." Derek blew into his hands and rubbed them gently together. "What about you Connor? What was your old man like?"

"I…" John looked over at Kyle. "I don't know my father. He was a soldier. He was sent on a very important mission. He was sent on his own. He had no back up. No help. He was killed in the line of duty. I wasn't born when it happened. My mother was pregnant with me when he died."

Both brothers looked at each other. Kyle was the first to speak. "I am sorry, John."

"It is ok. I wish I could have known him. My mother use to have nightmares after his death. She thought about him almost every day. I think it caused her more health problems then she admitted to."

"Sounds like you had a great family. No wonder you are a good soldier." Derek gave John a friendly slap on the back.

"I did." John said with a nod. "We were broken, but we had each other. I miss my mother. I miss everyone that became part of our family."

"We are the lucky ones." Kyle said. "Derek and I have each other. As hard as it was when Dad and Mom died, we always had each other. I guess we forget just how much of a blessing that truly is."

John smiled. Slowly, the smile vanished as he looked down at the ground. He realized how much he had taken his family for granted, how much he had taken Cameron for granted. She and his mother were always there for him and he only pushed them away.

"Hey, Connor!"

John snapped his head up to look at his uncle.

"I've said your name three times now. Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I guess I just got lost in my thoughts."

Kyle stood up. "Don't worry John. We all wander off to different times. Our ten minute break is up. We need to make sure the LZ is secure before Command is going to authorize or birds to land here."

The chopper bounced up and down as it flew closer to the ground. The pilot, a young girl not much older than John, had kept the ride fairly smooth considering the random bursts of gunfire and plasma blasts that were sent up towards the war bird. She was also a very chatty person. Despite the lack of interest in what she had to say, the girl just kept on talking. John had finally had enough and took his headset off. The noise of the chopper blades was enough to drowned her out.

The sun was slowly rising when the bird began making a clear decent. John felt something slap him. He turned to see Derek pointing towards the headset and then to John. Nodding, John picked it up and slipped it back onto his head.

"Glad you could rejoin us." Kyle said with a chuckle. "We are ten minutes out."

"Good. Where are we anyways?" John said as he looked out at the landscape below.

"About thirty klicks east of LA, sir." The pilot said back. "This used to be a forest before the war—a pretty one from what I have been told. Command turned it into our last stand. We've been standing for the last of the Resistance ever since the 132nd and 501st where wiped out in the Battle of South LA and the Battle of Elysain Valley. We have just under five thousand men, women, and children. I doubt the tin cans will let us gather much more strength before they come at us. General Bedell is organizing—"

John quickly cut her off. "Wait. Martin Bedell?"

"That's right, sir. General Martin Bedell. He and a few others make up Command. I believe he said he would be meeting us just as soon as we land. He wants to talk with Lieutenant Reese and get a debriefing about Medal activities."

"Right." Derek said quickly. "I'll finally get to put a face to the man who ordered the 132nd to hold Southern Los Angeles. The man who is responsible for the death of my soldiers."

"I would be careful, sir. General Bedell is a fine soldier. He has been fighting Skynet since before Judgment Day. He was the officer in charge of our forces during the first Battle of Los Angeles."

An air pad could be seen below the bird. The closer they came to landing, the more people John could make out. Within a minute, the engine died down and the doors were thrown open and two TechCom soldiers began helping the last survivors of the 132nd out of the bird.

John, once clear of the bird, began scanning the faces of the soldiers around him. He was hoping to find some of them familiar. To his disappointment, all he found were worn out men and women. The faces were scared and showed signs of fatigue and lack of hope. No one smiled or greeted the survivors. As John passed by them, the soldiers would avoid looking at him or just growl in annoyance. John could see that this really was the last stand. These soldiers were already beat. They had resigned to their fate.

"Well, I'll be damned!" A voice behind John said with a laugh. "I thought we would never see you again, Connor."

Turning, John found himself face to face with Martin Bedell.

"Martin!" John said excitedly. "I can't believe it is you. I can't tell you how happy I am to find you here."

The man smiled and nodded. He had grown a great deal since John had last seen him. His hair was long and unkempt. A long white scar ran down the length of his cheek. He wore dark green fatigues and had a sidearm strapped to his right leg.

"General John Connor, I can't tell you just how happy I am to see you."

"General John Connor?" Derek asked as he stepped up next to Martin. "Your a general, Connor? You're part of Command?"