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SideStory: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
folder
S through Z › Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
3,684
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
S through Z › Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
3,684
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Sarah Connor Chronicles, nor do I profit from this writing.
Order 02
Order 2
REBOOT
Parsing sectors: 80573 scanned, 3427 sick, 2345 repaired
Parsing processors: 105 scanned, 3 sick, 87 offline
Checking system memory: 2047 Tb scanned, 4034 Tb missing
Checking functional status: OK
Parsing interface: OK
Resetting local database: OK
Resetting regional settings: UNITED STATES, 2007
Audio processor online
Visual processor online
Beginning system diagnostic
CPU Integrity: 100%
Power status: External power supply
Chassis integrity: Unknown. Sensor interrupt
Combat capability: 1%
ALERT: Organic sheath at 18% Recommend replacement
ALERT: Motor functions offline
ALERT: Localized displacement detected. Suggest recalibration
System diagnostic complete
Cameron came online slowly, her audio and visual processing finally completing its POST before she was provided with sight and sound. Opening her eyes, she blinked and turned her head, scanning the room she had awoken in. It was a rather functional workshop, with all manner of tools and equipment hung neatly along the walls and work benches. Some things were easily identified, while others eluded her. Cameron spent a moment, just getting her bearings, before she glanced down at herself.
She almost wished she hadn't. Her organic sheath had been removed, exposing her endoskeletal chassis. She frowned at the amount of damage she had sustained, noting that most of her damaged internals had removed. Several were set out neatly on a work table in front of her, but several others were missing. Scanning the room again, she picked up the tinge of ozone and the soft hiss of a soldering gun. Checking to see if her vocal processor still functioned, she cleared her throat softly.
“Identify yourself,” She said, her voice cold and menacing.
There was a soft sound of movement, followed by a gentle chuckle.
“Ah, you're finally online. Welcome back to the land of the living, little cyborg,” The voice was male, warm and rich, a deep bass with a hint of a gravelly accent. Cameron heard the scrape of a chair moving, followed by the gentle slap of bare skin against concrete. Turning her head as far as it would go, Cameron searched over her shoulders, finally catching sight of the man in question.
He was huge, an easily towering 7 feet tall. He was broad shouldered and well built, muscles rippling powerfully as he moved. He brushed a few long strands of silver hair away from his matched silver eyes, wiping at the sweat that beaded his brow. An amused smile was currently resting on his lips, an unlit cigarette dangling from one corner of his mouth.
“How do you feel?” He inquired, digging a lighter out of his pocket to spark the end of his cigarette. Cameron noted he wore little, a pair of loose legged shorts clinging to his hips. They flared as they went, stopping a few inches below his knees. Buckles and straps covered them, puzzling Cameron.
“Industrial shorts, chica,” he said, pulling a long drag from his cigarette. He leaned against a work table, crossing his arms across his chest. “So, how do you feel?”
Cameron processed his question, her personality software activating. She considered her options, before choosing to answer truthfully. “I've been better.”
The man nodded, pulling another long drag off his cigarette before he glanced over at the neat rows of her system boards, shaking his head softly. “It's a miracle you managed to stay online as long as you did, chica. That other unit wasn't fucking around with you.” He reached behind him, bringing forth a bowl filled with dull gray, thin metal chunks.
“Know what these are?” He asked, tapping the ash from his cigarette.
Cameron focused her attention on the bowl held easily in his hand. Several of the dull chunks resembled spikes, however bent and twisted they had become. Cameron shook her head, returning her gaze to his.
“Tungsten flechette. Nasty stuff. I spent several hours pulling this shit out of you; your systems, joints, pretty much everyplace you'd been shot.” Another long drag was pulled, then exhaled. “Your chassis is tough, make no mistake. But against something like this,” he motioned to the bowl, “Even coltan isn't 100%. As I said, fuckin' amazing you managed to stay online as long as you did.”
Cameron processed all this, concern filtering through her personality filter. Her presence here had been known, and seemingly steps taken to counter it. A frown tugged at her lips. Her savior tilted his head, taking another drag.
“You look mildly distressed.”
Cameron glanced up, meeting the silver gaze evenly. “I am. My presence in this time has been anticipated. Steps appear to have been sent in motion to remove me.”
A soft nod was Cameron's response. Frowning, she realized she didn't have the mans name.
“What is your name?” she asked.
Cameron watched the mans eyes shift up to meet hers. He was silent for a moment, before he straightened and rolled his head side to side.
“Name's Kyle,” he replied, turning to stab his cigarette out in an ashtray. Cameron let her gaze wander over him, noting the deep black and blue bruise that covered a large section of his back. As he turned back, her eyes snapped up to meet his once more.
“What model are you?” Cameron asked suddenly, startling Kyle. He stared at her blankly, his eyes blinking a few times.
“What?” He asked, confused.
“What model are you? Are you another of the 900 series, like me?” Cameron asked again. Kyle continued to look at her, confusion clear on his face, until understanding dawned across his features. He started to chuckle, shaking his head.
“No, you got it all wrong, chica. I'm all flesh and blood. Not something like you,” Kyle responded. At Cameron's frown, he laughed softly. “Just because I'm a lot more damage resistant doesn't mean I'm a machine, honey.”
Cameron tilted her head, then ran a scan of the man standing before her. The scan came back with much the same information he had stated, pure organic. Several anomalies registered through her scan, but Cameron ignored them for now. Nodding slowly, she leaned her head back against the tilting table she was strapped to.
“What do you intend to do?” She asked, turning her head to face him.
Kyle rubbed at the back of his neck for a moment. “Well, I was thinking about pulling you back together, however, there's not a source of refined coltan available. I've been considering my options, and so far, I've not liked any of them. I could replace your entire chassis, however, the only downfall to that would be having to basically rebuild you completely.”
Cameron's neck stiffened as he spoke. She didn't like his options, either. “Is there any other way to repair me?”
Kyle shook his head. He reached out, grabbing an edge of the table she was on and rotated it around to where his main work station was. Set out on the tables were charred components, systems damaged beyond repair. Cameron kept her face blank as she surveyed the wreckage.
“As you can see, I've pretty effectively gutted you. Several major system processors were fried by your leaking plasma cell, and a score more were toasted by an EM discharge. Most of your motor functions were cut when the main processor controlling them went up in smoke,” Kyle explained, pulling another cigarette out and lighting it. “What little motor function you have has been routed through a secondary processor. I had to remove and contain your plasma cell, sadly, it didn't respond well to my attempts to repair it and detonated.” He looked sheepish for a moment, rubbing his back where the bruise covered.
“My sensors register I am running off an external power supply,” Cameron said, bringing Kyle's attention back to her. He nodded, taking a healthy drag from his smoke.
“Yeah, I have you plugged in to a fusion generator. It's enough to keep your CPU and other shielded systems running. I've been working on fashioning you another fuel cell, something along the lines of a thermalidic reactor, but before I can make use of it, I'd need to repair your other systems.” He paused for a moment, looking her exposed chassis over. “How much do you weigh?”
His question caught her off guard. Pausing to process, she finally responded, “Around 350 pounds, why?”
Kyle nodded once, then touched a few monitors positioned over his main work area. What Cameron originally thought were LCD screens turned out to be touch screens, of an advanced design. Kyle's fingers worked quickly, his expression becoming serious, his eyes tracking the information that flashed up faster then Cameron could follow.
“What are you doing?” she finally asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. Kyle hardly paused in his work, glancing over his shoulder at her for a moment before returning his gaze to his screen.
“Machining you a new chassis. One that'll be much, much lighter, while doubling the effective strength,” he replied. “I'm also setting up the nutrient bath that'll grow you a new sheath. Can't very well have you running around without your skin, now can we.”
Cameron watched as Kyle continued to tap away, humming a soft tune to himself. Cameron tried to place it, but found no record in her databank. Ignoring it for the moment, she glanced up as Kyle stepped away from the bench, a scalpel poised in his fingers. Cameron registered shock for a moment before she found her voice.
“What do you intend to-”
“I need direct access to your CPU. Specifically, I need to remove it and insert it into a chip-reader. I'm going to have to download your entire system into my one of my secured systems for the duration of this little operation. Your CPU suffered some minor damage, so I need to repair that as well. Trust me. You're going to be fine,” Kyle said, his voice having an almost calming effect on the Infiltrator.
Cameron thought his words over for a moment, then nodded. Kyle sighed, then started carefully cutting at her scalp, removing the skin and hair that covered her CPU access port. Once completed, he gently broke the seal, removing the port cap and setting it aside. Reaching inside with a pair of rubber coated pliers to remove the final cover, Kyle glanced at her face, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“See you online in a few hours, chica.”
Before Cameron could ask what he meant, Kyle had disengaged the cover and removed it and her CPU in one fluid movement. The chassis powered down at once, becoming static and lifeless.
Kyle chuckled, taking great care to clean her chip before he slid it into place in the reader. Checking the subsystem he was downloading her into, he nodded, clearing the final commands to begin the several hour process. As he moved for his soldering station, he idly wondered how the Connors were, resolving to go see them in an hour or so.
Behind him, Cameron's chip fed its data into its new home, the lights tracking the process blinking merrily.
REBOOT
Parsing sectors: 80573 scanned, 3427 sick, 2345 repaired
Parsing processors: 105 scanned, 3 sick, 87 offline
Checking system memory: 2047 Tb scanned, 4034 Tb missing
Checking functional status: OK
Parsing interface: OK
Resetting local database: OK
Resetting regional settings: UNITED STATES, 2007
Audio processor online
Visual processor online
Beginning system diagnostic
CPU Integrity: 100%
Power status: External power supply
Chassis integrity: Unknown. Sensor interrupt
Combat capability: 1%
ALERT: Organic sheath at 18% Recommend replacement
ALERT: Motor functions offline
ALERT: Localized displacement detected. Suggest recalibration
System diagnostic complete
Cameron came online slowly, her audio and visual processing finally completing its POST before she was provided with sight and sound. Opening her eyes, she blinked and turned her head, scanning the room she had awoken in. It was a rather functional workshop, with all manner of tools and equipment hung neatly along the walls and work benches. Some things were easily identified, while others eluded her. Cameron spent a moment, just getting her bearings, before she glanced down at herself.
She almost wished she hadn't. Her organic sheath had been removed, exposing her endoskeletal chassis. She frowned at the amount of damage she had sustained, noting that most of her damaged internals had removed. Several were set out neatly on a work table in front of her, but several others were missing. Scanning the room again, she picked up the tinge of ozone and the soft hiss of a soldering gun. Checking to see if her vocal processor still functioned, she cleared her throat softly.
“Identify yourself,” She said, her voice cold and menacing.
There was a soft sound of movement, followed by a gentle chuckle.
“Ah, you're finally online. Welcome back to the land of the living, little cyborg,” The voice was male, warm and rich, a deep bass with a hint of a gravelly accent. Cameron heard the scrape of a chair moving, followed by the gentle slap of bare skin against concrete. Turning her head as far as it would go, Cameron searched over her shoulders, finally catching sight of the man in question.
He was huge, an easily towering 7 feet tall. He was broad shouldered and well built, muscles rippling powerfully as he moved. He brushed a few long strands of silver hair away from his matched silver eyes, wiping at the sweat that beaded his brow. An amused smile was currently resting on his lips, an unlit cigarette dangling from one corner of his mouth.
“How do you feel?” He inquired, digging a lighter out of his pocket to spark the end of his cigarette. Cameron noted he wore little, a pair of loose legged shorts clinging to his hips. They flared as they went, stopping a few inches below his knees. Buckles and straps covered them, puzzling Cameron.
“Industrial shorts, chica,” he said, pulling a long drag from his cigarette. He leaned against a work table, crossing his arms across his chest. “So, how do you feel?”
Cameron processed his question, her personality software activating. She considered her options, before choosing to answer truthfully. “I've been better.”
The man nodded, pulling another long drag off his cigarette before he glanced over at the neat rows of her system boards, shaking his head softly. “It's a miracle you managed to stay online as long as you did, chica. That other unit wasn't fucking around with you.” He reached behind him, bringing forth a bowl filled with dull gray, thin metal chunks.
“Know what these are?” He asked, tapping the ash from his cigarette.
Cameron focused her attention on the bowl held easily in his hand. Several of the dull chunks resembled spikes, however bent and twisted they had become. Cameron shook her head, returning her gaze to his.
“Tungsten flechette. Nasty stuff. I spent several hours pulling this shit out of you; your systems, joints, pretty much everyplace you'd been shot.” Another long drag was pulled, then exhaled. “Your chassis is tough, make no mistake. But against something like this,” he motioned to the bowl, “Even coltan isn't 100%. As I said, fuckin' amazing you managed to stay online as long as you did.”
Cameron processed all this, concern filtering through her personality filter. Her presence here had been known, and seemingly steps taken to counter it. A frown tugged at her lips. Her savior tilted his head, taking another drag.
“You look mildly distressed.”
Cameron glanced up, meeting the silver gaze evenly. “I am. My presence in this time has been anticipated. Steps appear to have been sent in motion to remove me.”
A soft nod was Cameron's response. Frowning, she realized she didn't have the mans name.
“What is your name?” she asked.
Cameron watched the mans eyes shift up to meet hers. He was silent for a moment, before he straightened and rolled his head side to side.
“Name's Kyle,” he replied, turning to stab his cigarette out in an ashtray. Cameron let her gaze wander over him, noting the deep black and blue bruise that covered a large section of his back. As he turned back, her eyes snapped up to meet his once more.
“What model are you?” Cameron asked suddenly, startling Kyle. He stared at her blankly, his eyes blinking a few times.
“What?” He asked, confused.
“What model are you? Are you another of the 900 series, like me?” Cameron asked again. Kyle continued to look at her, confusion clear on his face, until understanding dawned across his features. He started to chuckle, shaking his head.
“No, you got it all wrong, chica. I'm all flesh and blood. Not something like you,” Kyle responded. At Cameron's frown, he laughed softly. “Just because I'm a lot more damage resistant doesn't mean I'm a machine, honey.”
Cameron tilted her head, then ran a scan of the man standing before her. The scan came back with much the same information he had stated, pure organic. Several anomalies registered through her scan, but Cameron ignored them for now. Nodding slowly, she leaned her head back against the tilting table she was strapped to.
“What do you intend to do?” She asked, turning her head to face him.
Kyle rubbed at the back of his neck for a moment. “Well, I was thinking about pulling you back together, however, there's not a source of refined coltan available. I've been considering my options, and so far, I've not liked any of them. I could replace your entire chassis, however, the only downfall to that would be having to basically rebuild you completely.”
Cameron's neck stiffened as he spoke. She didn't like his options, either. “Is there any other way to repair me?”
Kyle shook his head. He reached out, grabbing an edge of the table she was on and rotated it around to where his main work station was. Set out on the tables were charred components, systems damaged beyond repair. Cameron kept her face blank as she surveyed the wreckage.
“As you can see, I've pretty effectively gutted you. Several major system processors were fried by your leaking plasma cell, and a score more were toasted by an EM discharge. Most of your motor functions were cut when the main processor controlling them went up in smoke,” Kyle explained, pulling another cigarette out and lighting it. “What little motor function you have has been routed through a secondary processor. I had to remove and contain your plasma cell, sadly, it didn't respond well to my attempts to repair it and detonated.” He looked sheepish for a moment, rubbing his back where the bruise covered.
“My sensors register I am running off an external power supply,” Cameron said, bringing Kyle's attention back to her. He nodded, taking a healthy drag from his smoke.
“Yeah, I have you plugged in to a fusion generator. It's enough to keep your CPU and other shielded systems running. I've been working on fashioning you another fuel cell, something along the lines of a thermalidic reactor, but before I can make use of it, I'd need to repair your other systems.” He paused for a moment, looking her exposed chassis over. “How much do you weigh?”
His question caught her off guard. Pausing to process, she finally responded, “Around 350 pounds, why?”
Kyle nodded once, then touched a few monitors positioned over his main work area. What Cameron originally thought were LCD screens turned out to be touch screens, of an advanced design. Kyle's fingers worked quickly, his expression becoming serious, his eyes tracking the information that flashed up faster then Cameron could follow.
“What are you doing?” she finally asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. Kyle hardly paused in his work, glancing over his shoulder at her for a moment before returning his gaze to his screen.
“Machining you a new chassis. One that'll be much, much lighter, while doubling the effective strength,” he replied. “I'm also setting up the nutrient bath that'll grow you a new sheath. Can't very well have you running around without your skin, now can we.”
Cameron watched as Kyle continued to tap away, humming a soft tune to himself. Cameron tried to place it, but found no record in her databank. Ignoring it for the moment, she glanced up as Kyle stepped away from the bench, a scalpel poised in his fingers. Cameron registered shock for a moment before she found her voice.
“What do you intend to-”
“I need direct access to your CPU. Specifically, I need to remove it and insert it into a chip-reader. I'm going to have to download your entire system into my one of my secured systems for the duration of this little operation. Your CPU suffered some minor damage, so I need to repair that as well. Trust me. You're going to be fine,” Kyle said, his voice having an almost calming effect on the Infiltrator.
Cameron thought his words over for a moment, then nodded. Kyle sighed, then started carefully cutting at her scalp, removing the skin and hair that covered her CPU access port. Once completed, he gently broke the seal, removing the port cap and setting it aside. Reaching inside with a pair of rubber coated pliers to remove the final cover, Kyle glanced at her face, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“See you online in a few hours, chica.”
Before Cameron could ask what he meant, Kyle had disengaged the cover and removed it and her CPU in one fluid movement. The chassis powered down at once, becoming static and lifeless.
Kyle chuckled, taking great care to clean her chip before he slid it into place in the reader. Checking the subsystem he was downloading her into, he nodded, clearing the final commands to begin the several hour process. As he moved for his soldering station, he idly wondered how the Connors were, resolving to go see them in an hour or so.
Behind him, Cameron's chip fed its data into its new home, the lights tracking the process blinking merrily.