Catherine watched in awe while the man tackled the machine. Without thinking about his own life he had charged at it, dodging the bullets that were fired at him. For some reason she had misjudged him; given his height and breadth she had thought that he would be slow and lumbering, instead he was very fast and agile, knocking the steel man over before it had the chance to parry the attack.
Sergeant Devlin quickly jumped to his feet again, looked down at the machine with disdain and stomped on its throat full force. He has to know what he is doing, she thought impressed by his resilience and determination. Steam rose up in small clouds when the neck hydraulics became damaged. He kept stomping on the machine's throat. The machine began to quiver and quake. Bright blue electric sparks casted their ghostly glimmer against the blood splattered walls of the main hallway.
She looked at the man again as he stood towering over the steel skeleton. He had to be one crazy son of a bitch. Attacking one of Skynet's creations with his bare hands. He had shown no reserve, no fear, engaging in an unfair battle, in a final attempt to save others.
She smiled wryly: it had been an unfair battle but not in the way she had anticipated it. Tears welled in her eyes when she saw the bloodbath. She had been hardened by two years of fighting, hiding and running, but this was bad. She hung her head in defeat; all these people had counted on her to keep them safe and she had failed them. Just as she had failed mankind by being involved in the development of Skynet.

Skynet was furious. For the second time that night the signal to one of his latest creations had been lost. Two infiltration units had been destroyed.
The humans must be smarter than I had anticipated, appeared on the screen.
It was the only logical explanation it could come up with. It had never cared about its other units,
but there was something about the infiltrators. They were something it would never be. They had something it would never have.
Skynet knew the infiltration units needed perfecting still but the loss of tow out of five new units
pointed at a big flaw. They would need a human appearance, a skin. Just because it walked and talked like a human didn't make it human.
Why did you not tell me about that? It asked.
Catherine Weaver shrugged: "They are like ants. Useless little critters."

Tyler grimaced as he tried to remain standing. He had suffered more than one gunshot wound but he knew that it wasn't his time yet. His time was years from now and yet lay in the past. He would live.
He had gone to the latest pockets this night to discuss the transport of the survivors to safe civ bases, to check out if there were useful people for the developing Resistance. Slowly he walked up to the corpse of Rook Thompson and removed the kid's dog tag and weapons.
After that he turned to see the massacre caused by the machine. The little girl, lifeless on the dirty floor. Her tiny hand tight around the tail of the emaciated cat. Every alcove held death.
Only two years into the war against Skynet and the machines and he had already seen more death and destruction to last him numerous lifetimes. Becoming ultra-alert all of a sudden, he noticed movement in the back and he pointed Thompson's weapon at the shadow. His finger was already gently squeezing the trigger, ready to fire if it was another metal man.
"Stand down, Sergeant Devlin," Catherine said firmly.
The tremor in her voice told him that she had sounded more firm than she actually was. He lowered the weapon and took a few deep breaths, hoping the adrenaline surge would soon ebb away. Silently he wished that he could say that this had been the worst night he had lived through.

The door was unlocked and opened again. The disrespectful Private returned. Sarah pondered if she should give him a piece of her mind but refrained.
"C is ready to see you, Baum," he said gruffly, although he didn't look so smug anymore.
Sarah got to her feet and looked at the two girls for a moment. Savannah was fidgeting with the hem of her torn T-shirt. Robin was sitting on the floor, telling herself some children's story. It hurt Sarah in unforeseen ways to see Tyler's daughter.
Was it jealousy? Or concern? Did Tyler even know that he had a six years old daughter? What would her role be in the future history? Her mind became swamped with questions.
She followed the smug Private to a big room where a young man stood bent over a table. He stood straight again and slowly turned to face her. Her heart became lodged in her throat when she saw her son again, after two years.
"John?!?" She exclaimed surprised while she immediately suppressed the need to run to him and hug him.
John looked sternly at the Private and said: "Dismissed, McNab."
The smug Private left and Sarah saw the harsh look on her son's face being replace with an expression of pure happiness.
"Mom?!" He cried, rushing over to her and scooping her up in a wild bear hug. "I missed you so much," he whispered, tears etching into his voice.
"I missed you too," she mumbled tearfully. "How are you? How's Tyler?"
"I'm fine," he answered. "Tyler's out for the night. He'll be so happy to see you."
She smiled faintly before she buried her face in his shoulder, letting her tears spill freely.

"Welcome home, sir," Private McNab said lowly while Tyler sat on his heels to pet the two German shepherds.
Tyler nodded. The two dogs greeted him enthusiastically and tried to lick his face.
"Down, Conan, Ronan!" Private McNab ordered sternly when the two dogs started to become overly excited by the attention Tyler was giving them. "Bad night, sir?"
"Yeah, but not the worst," Tyler replied as he rose to his feet again.
He dug into one of his pockets and took out a few treats for the dogs: "Conan, Ronan, sit."
Both dogs immediately obeyed and Tyler gave them the snacks.
"Who is she?" Private McNab asked cautiously while he nodded towards the woman who had come in with Tyler.
"Ryan, Catherine. Former Corporal with the US Army," Catherine said monotonically.
"At least not another civ," Private McNab grumbled.
Tyler thought he detected some kind of relief in McNab's voice and he looked at him curiously.
"We got a handful of them this night, sir," Private McNab explained. "Like we're some goddamn ref camp."
Tyler glared at the Private and stated: "Everyone's welcome here, McNab, even civs. We're all brothers and sisters."
"C thinks otherwise, sir," Private McNab countered.
"Yeah, I know. C and I don't see eye-to-eye on that," Tyler remarked annoyed.

"C wants to see you," Private McNab told Tyler.
"What does he want now?" Tyler growled while he check the bandages one last time.
"I don't know, sir, but he stressed the fact that you would come and see him straight away," Private McNab answered.
Tyler looked at the man in the disheveled and torn soldier's uniform. It was two sizes too small and Tyler thought he looked ridiculous in it. For some reason Tyler didn't like him. He didn't like the disdain with which the Private spoke of the civs, survivors unable to fight the machines. He didn't like the fact that the Private thought he was important and irreplaceable.
Deciding not to give McNab another thought, he wondered what would be so important that John did not grant him some rest and recovery time. News travelled fast on CD Base. John should have heard about his run-ins with the machines by now. If there was one person who understood the need for downtime, it was John Connor.
It didn't make any sense that John had McNab get him. McNab was a Bouncer, a Private to gather intell at the safe door of the base. He put on his cleanest T-shirt, checked his Beretta and put it in the holster on his belt.
Better safe than sorry, he thought as he pulled out his dog tags from under his T-shirt. Only on base you had to wear your tags over your clothes. Another stupid rule thought of by John. Rank meant nothing to him, as it meant nothing to all who had died and who would die in the battle against Skynet. Humans were humans, whether they were civs or soldiers.
The only time he would pull rank was with insulent soldiers like McNab who clearly thought that soldiers were superior to civs.
He left his room and trudged down the hallways of their latest hideout, an abandoned warehouse on Naples Island. With only two access roads, it was easier to defend than the base they had before in Downtown Los Angeles. Private McNab walked a few feet in front of him, stopping and looking over his shoulder once in a while to hurry him. Nevertheless Tyler was in no hurry to get to John as it gave him time to remember better times. Dwelling on the past was a means for him to escape to horrors of this brutal life and world, but he didn't do it as often as he had done in the past.
... In the future there will be a very courageous young man and his name is Tyler Jess Devlin. Alongside his best friend John Connor he would fight against the robots' rule over the world…
He could still hear his mother's gentle voice as the fantastic stories she had told him echoed in his mind. A world in ruins, humans fighing the machines for a better tomorrow, a champion of the people. It all had become a cruel, intolerable reality.
"Ty," John called, waiting for him at the end of the main hallway leading to the command center. "Com'on, man. Hurry up!"
Tyler noticed the impatience in John's voice and posture: "What is it, John?" He asked.
"Come," John said while he gestured that Tyler should follow him. "I've got something to show you," he grinned from ear-to-ear.

Sarah stood staring out the window at the ruined city of Los Angeles. For a long time she had tried to stop this from ever becoming reality by refusing her destiny, only to accept it after their failed attempt to steal the Turk, the core of the computer that one day would blow up the world.
TJ's words after Tyler's sacrifice and the discovery that they had stolen a fake Turk had made her realize that she would never been able to stop this future. Instead she could only prepare for the bad things to come.
She heard the door being unlocked and opened behind her but she made no attempt to turn around and see who came in, unable to stop looking at the world in ruins.
"I have a favor to ask of you, Ty," she heard her son say and finally she turned to look at them.
"Hello, Tyler," she said warmly when she saw the look of utter shock on his face.
"You're the only one I can trust to keep her safe," John continued.
"I don't like to be blindsided."
She could hear Tyler's voice tremble.
"Neither do I, Ty," John said in palliation. "But I didn't have a choice."
Tyler kept quiet when she walked up to him. She took a good look at him: he had changed quite a lot in the two years she had not seen him. She noticed the bandages slowly turning a pale red as blood seeped through. It told her that he had just come back from another battlefield.
"It's been a long, Ty," she whispered while she looked at his face.
The scars told their own stories of battles lost and won. Only the kindness in his eyes was the same. She extended a hand to him, suppressing the urge to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him.
"Yes," Tyler nodded as he shook her hand. "It has been... But I don't understand, John. Why me?" He asked, turning to John after he had let go of her hand.
"Because I can trust you with her life," John answered. "Because I know that you will not tell a soul or machine about her existence. Because I know that you would give your life to protect her."
"Like I will do in the past," Tyler remarked sarcastically. "You should not put so much trust in me, John... Weren't you the one telling me over and over again that we have to distrust each other, as it is out only defence against betrayal?"
"I did," John nodded in agreement. "But despite what lies ahead of us, I know you will never betray us or our cause."
Sarah looked from John to Tyler and back. This Tyler knew more of his own destiny than the other Tyler had ever done.
"And how can you still be so goddamn sure that I will not betray her?" Tyler asked darkly.
"Trust me," John answered, sending her and Tyler a meaningful look. "I know."
She gulped nervously. What did her son know? She looked at Tyler again but he avoided any eye-contact. She knew that he would come to love her one day because she had heard the other Tyler call for her, beg her to stay, tell her that he loved her in one of his nightmarish sleeps after she had beaten him up in a fit of rage.
She smiled when she caught him scratching himself behind his left ear, the telltale sign that he was obviously uncomfortable with the conversation and the situation. Some things never change, she thought when she remembered the shy teenage boy on her couch.
"Choose your crew and leave this place," John said in a whisper. "The less people know about mom still alive and kicking, the better."
"Who knows?" Tyler asked.
"McNab and the Hounds," John answered.
"Good to know," Tyler nodded.

Chapter 6: All Standard Procedure

Chapter 8: Nothing Venture, Nothing Gain