There’s no fate but what we make.
Ever since I was born, my mother constantly told me this. As soon as I could walk, she made sure I knew how important I was, how I was supposed to become this big savior of humanity when Judgement Day happened when I was 13. Up until my mother was institutionalized, I was trained to be a soldier, a leader, the hero of humanity. Then we stopped Judgement Day. My mother and I, and a rogue T-800 Terminator found a way to keep the end of the world from happening. The T-1000 that been sent to kill me was destroyed, then the T-800 I’d come to know as ‘Uncle Bob’ destroyed himself to keep any trace of his technology out of the wrong hands. As I watched the closest thing I ever had to a father figure sink into the molten steel, I started to realize that for the first time in my life, I could be my own person. I wasn’t bound by some destiny with the weight of the world on my shoulders. I could be a normal kid. I could play baseball and date girls and have fun. I could have a real home. Unfortunately, my mom wasn’t convinced it was over. She wouldn’t be convinced until the day Judgement Day was supposed to happen came and went with no nuclear war. And until she was convinced, she kept close tabs on me, making sure I continued my training just to be safe. Over the next two years, my mother and I continued arguing over what may or may not happen when we got to Judgement Day. It’s like no matter how this went down, she had my entire future planned out. If the world ended, I’d be this big war hero that saved humanity. If not, she planned for me to go into politics to ensure that nothing like Judgement Day ever happened. An existence of keepings tabs on our government to make sure we didn’t die due to some bonehead decision. Saving the world is nice and all, but I wanted a chance to have my own dreams. My own wishes and desires. I wanted to fall in love and watch my own kids grow up in a safe world. Why did it have to be me that has to save the world? Why did I have to be so important in the grand scheme of things? * 2 Years Later Playa del Carmen Mexico John Connor sat at the counter of a beachside club, tinkering with a device he’d been trying to make for some time. In his right hand, he held a small screwdriver to adjust the wiring. In his left hand, he had a stress relief ball that he was repeatedly squeezing. A doctor had prescribed it in lieu of pills after seeing how stressed John was at such a young age. It didn’t quite take all the stress away, but at least it helped somewhat to be able to relieve a little stress. Not too far away, Sarah Connor sat at a table while sipping on a drink. She couldn’t get over how much John was starting to look like his father, who had died before John was born. But she still wasn’t convinced that the danger had passed, that’s why she’d been raising John to be a fighter, to always be aware of any conceivable threat. She wouldn’t let herself be fooled again. As she watched John, she realized how gifted he was with technology and wondered if that was something he got from his father. She only knew Kyle Reese for a day, but she saw so much of him in John when she looked at the boy, wondering just how much the two learned from each other in the war. “Almost got it,” John said as he turned the screwdriver again. “If this works, I’ll have an advantage over any Terminators that come our way. Unfortunately, I need a strong enough energy source to power it. Maybe if got a car battery…” As Sarah enjoyed her drink, someone walked onto the beach, holding a sawed-off shotgun in his hand. Sarah just happened to turn around just in time to see a T-800 walking toward the club. “No,” Sarah said as she jumped up, spilling her drink as she ran toward the Terminator to try to stop him. “NO!” As she ran toward the T-800, he merely grabbed her by the shoulder and flung her into the sand like she were a piece of litter. As she hit the ground, she looked up where John was sitting with his back turned while working on his project. “JOHN!” Sarah shouted. “RUN!” John turned his back to see his mother on the ground and the T-800 coming right toward him. “That’s not Uncle Bob,” John whispered as he quickly pieced together what was happening. The T-800 raised his shotgun and fired as John ducked out of the way. “Shit!” John started running as the Terminator kept a slow and steady pace while following him. “Shit, shit, shit!” John said, not being able to find any other words. With no place to take shelter, John started running toward the dock ahead as the T-800 fired off another blast, hitting John in the shoulder, sending blood flying toward the sand. The boy screamed as he fell to his knees, trying to reach the dock before he went down from shock. If he could make it to the water… but as he got to the dock he collapsed before he could make it. There was only one option left. The T-800 slowly walked onto the dock where John lay stomach down with his eyes wide open. As he looked down at the boy, his scanners picked up no vital signs. - Firing two more rounds is advisable to ensure Target can’t be revived. - Unessecary. Target will bleed out in two minutes. There is no way to receive proper medical aid before that happens. Moments after the T-800 walked away, John’s eyes started blinking. Meanwhile, Sarah saw the T-800 walking back toward the beach as she started attacking him. “You son of a bitch!” Sarah shouted with tears in her eyes, even though her hits had no effect. The T-800 grabbed her arm as his scanners searched her. “You are not a threat,” it said as the T-800 merely pushed her aside as he continued walking. Sarah got back up and started running toward the dock. “JOHN!” Sarah shouted, finding only a puddle of blood waiting for her, along with a warm stress ball that John had used under his arm to keep the T-800 from sensing his pulse. As she looked down into the water, there was no sign of John anywhere, only one of John’s sandals floating in the water “John?” Sarah immediately dived into the water to find her son. John wasn’t dead, he couldn’t be dead. She’d find him, nurse him back to health and then together, they’d hunt down this new Terminator together. After several hours of searching, Sarah returned to the bar to find John’s device. The only in the world left of her son. * A few miles up the coast, John had washed up on the shore where he quickly found himself surrounded by several kids on the beach, one of whom went to get an adult. The saltwater had preserved John until he made it to the beach where he still had major blood loss. I know, right? I actually pulled a fast one on a Terminator sent to kill me, but I knew it wouldn’t last long. At some point, he’s going to realize I’m not dead and come for me, so my only option is to go even further off the grid. I should tell my mom that I’m okay for the most part (being shot in the shoulder is not fun), but if she thinks I’m dead, she might stay safe. For the first time in my life, it’s my turn to protect her. Some locals found me and fixed me up, but I knew I couldn’t stay even after they offered me shelter after faking amnesia and saying I had no memory of where I came from. Having no ID, forging a new identity would be easy if and when I got my strength back. If I stayed here, the T-800 would eventually track me down and kill these nice people. No one else dies because of me. No one. What I needed was time to plan, to think. I knew how T-800’s operated, I got a good look at Uncle Bob’s cybernetics a few years ago. There’s no way in Hell I could replicate that, but I think I could figure out a way to get into its programming, but I’d have to take one out first, and for that, I’d need the right tech and a private place to work. After two months when I got my strength back and stole some painkillers, I snuck out of Mexico that night. Couldn’t leave a paper trail by buying a plane ticket, so I hitched a ride across the border. I had to do some things I wasn’t proud of, like offering to trade… favors for safe passage. Oh, don’t worry, this story doesn’t end like you think it does. John walked away whistling as a truck driver lay on the ground with a bloodied crotch while John wiped his bloody knife clean. “He’ll live,” * Three Years Later It took a while to do it, but after changing my hair to a reddish blonde, burning off my fingerprints and getting color contacts, I just kept running while I gathered electronic equipment. I’d found an old abandoned garage in Indiana to set up shop in where I could hide and hopefully remain undetected. It wasn’t much, but it gave me the privacy to work and develop a plan to bring the T-800 to me so I could take it down. I just wondered if my mom was truly okay. I know it sucks to make her believe I was dead, but I’d make it up to her someday when this was all over. For now, I couldn’t endanger her if Skynet wanted me dead. She’d be the first person they kill if she knew I was alive, so I imagine ‘Uncle Bob’ probably keeps an eye on her just to make sure I don’t contact her. Finally, I was ready. I just had to lure him here, and what better way to lure in a machine than using a machine? I started going online, signing into chatrooms, making bogus purchases, and basically trolling the bastard. If I recall, Uncle Bob had limited internet access, and odds are that he had a special search engine if my name just happened to have any online presence in certain places Skynet was searching for. And sure enough, a few weeks later… John had fallen asleep in his workshop as a silent alarm started glowing. John opened his eyes to see a flashing red light and ran over to a security feed just in time to see the T-800 shoot out the camera. “Come get me, you bastard,” John smirked as he rushed over to his workshop where a car battery sat hooked up to a small handheld device. “I just hope this works. Guess I’m going to find out.” Shutting off the lights, John pulled off his AC/DC t-shirt to set up his trap, putting it on a mock-up dummy. He’d rigged up a device to mimic a heartbeat that he attached to the dummy as he put it into the chair, turning it around and hoping the T-800 would be convinced it was the real deal. John climbed up into the rafters just in time for the door to be kicked open. The T-800 looked around, scanning the darkness until it came upon the turned around chair. The Terminator sensed the heartbeat and fired off several shots until the dummy fell out of the chair where its head and wig fell off. “Hey, asshole, I loved that shirt!” John said as he swung down in front of the T-800 and shoved the device onto his chest where it magnetically clung to his body. “Merry Christmas, Uncle Bob. Oh, and uh… fuck you!” John flipped him off with both fingers before taking cover as the device went off, blasting the Terminator backward, landing on the ground, unmoving. The lights exploded overhead, knocking out power for a good 500 feet as everything went dark. Low range EMP. I’ll have to replace the fuses in the garage and the neighbors up the street might be pissed, but it’ll be worth it if this works. But I don’t know how long I have, so I have to work fast before he reboots. Better start by taking out its CPU. * Hours later, John had tossed the T-800’s legs into a vat of molten steel he kept in the basement. That left only the head and torso to destroy. “Alright, Uncle Bob, time for the hard part,” John said as he took the CPU and prepared to hook it up to his computer. “Let’s see what you can tell me about how you got here.” The computer started sparking as John switched to alternative power before the screen turned bright blue. “Should have known my crappy computer needs more power,” John said as he hooked up more power sources. “I’ll remember that for next time.” “User identity required,” the computer said in a heavy Austrian accent that sounded just like the T-800. “John Connor, you murderous fuck,” John told him as he started typing furiously to get around any security measures to keep the computer from spilling its electronic guts. “You’re going to tell me everything I need to know. Why you’re here, who sent you, and if Skynet is still around in the future.” “I am model T-850 Terminator, my mission is to terminate John Connor in the event of the T-1000’s failure. The fate of Skynet is unknown with the failure of Judgement Day. Skynet sent four additional Terminators back in the event that the T-1000 was defeated.” “And it took you this long to track me down?” John asked. “You had gone off the grid, I awaited confirmation of your survival to continue,” “And the other Terminators?” “The four additional T-850’s immediately sought a safe place to shut down until needed,” the computer told him. “The first three are programmed to wake up at pre-determined times to continue the mission.” “And the fourth?” “In the event of the defeat of the T-1000’s defeat and the first three T-850’s, the final is programmed to seek out and kill one Kyle Reese,” “How? There’s no way that Skynet knows about my father, there’s no record of him, he was born after Judgement Day for God’s sake.” “Skynet had no knowledge of Kyle Reese being biologically related to you. After Kyle Reese’s departure to the past, video footage was uncovered and used to identify him as John Connor’s second-in-command. Upon planning to kill you at 10-years-old, Skynet used DNA tracking from a blood sample of Kyle Reese in the future to determine his birth parents. Deducing his age, Skynet programmed the final T-850 to strike when he was a child. Killing Kyle Reese would prevent him from saving Sarah Connor.” “Fuck,” John said as he ran a hand through his hair. “When’s the next T-850 due to wake up?” “The next T-850 is due to activate upon the destruction of my CPU,” the computer said as John wrote down the information. “Well, best not keep him waiting. Better make more EMPs for the coming fight.” “Unwise,” the computer told him. “The other T-850’s know what I know, they will adapt and be ready for a surprise attack.” “So the other Three Stooges can learn from each other. Fucking perfect. That leaves me roughly three years to kill two more T-850’s and track down my father before he’s wiped out,” John said. “Okay, where are the other three T-850’s located?” “Unknown. They were programmed to find locations that can not be tracked,” “So, if I finish the T-850’s and save Kyle, this will be over,” John said. “The world will be saved and I can tell my mom that I’m alive. I can have a real life outside of this. I don’t have to be the world’s savior or this big war hero. Maybe I’ll take up golf.” After tossing the rest of the T-850 into the molten steel, John sighed as he tossed the CPU chip in, watching it melt quickly. “See you real soon, Uncle Bob.” * On the other side of the country, in a storage freezer in a basement, a pair of menacing red eyes opened. TO BE CONTINUED…
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Tobias ChristopherUnfeeling killing machine. Archives
June 2020
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