Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination. Everything else belongs to Joss Whedon and whomever it it that actually owns Terminator: Salvation.
The HK swooped overhead, its engines emitting a screeching whine. Startled, John pulled Kyle down and out of sight behind a pile of debris. Easing up far enough for a view, his eyes widened at the sight of the large machine flying erratically. It swooped left to right, up and down without seeming intent.
Visibly shuddering, it finally crashed; it’s skidding progress across the field coming to a halt within thirty feet of their insecure position. Both he and Kyle were exposing themselves, but the sounds of ripping metal had their undivided attention.
Something punched through the side, right where the containment cells were located and hands gripped either side of the hole. Another rending shriek sounded and a body emerged.
She was blue.
She had taken down an HK with her bare hands and she was looking at the both of them with an expressionless gaze.
“I am Illyria, God King of the Primordium. You will take me to John Connor. I Am The Resistance.”