Hello everyone! Welcome to my humble fanfic. I first want to point out that I don't own anything from this story. Star Trek and Terminator belong to their owners, and I am not one of those people. So, apologies for every implying anything to the contrary.
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA; MARCH 13, 2009
Cameron woke up. She didn't understand this at first, since as she constantly reminded John, Sarah, and Derek, she didn't sleep. But some part of her, some dormant line of code, had just surfaced. The sensation most resembled her reactivation after the car bomb, when she had tried to terminate John's life. This was similar, but it wasn't compelling her to any sort of action. To be safe, she ran a complete diagnostic of her CPU.
The line of code was there, but it was in a language she didn't recognize. Circles with different-shaped segments omitted; seven of them. She attempted a translation protocol, but it corresponded to no known language or code that she was aware of. It was glaring at her constantly from her HUD in an ominous shade of green.
Cameron woke up again. She had been so invested in her self-maintenance that she only now realized that she was standing in the middle of the street, in the middle of the city. Her internal chronometer indicated she had been walking for two hours and seventeen minutes.
Cameron didn't sleep, but she had just sleepwalked. Her mission priority reasserted itself: Protect John Connor. It was a deliberate choice, to protect him. She had chosen not to terminate him when he had given her the option almost a year ago. The prospect of having options was unsettling. Options indicated a lack of certainty. Cameron didn't like being uncertain.
But she was certain now. She would return to the safe house and report these anomalous behaviors to the Connors immediately. The safest option would be to terminate Cameron. It was not a preferable option, but it was the optimal one. That was what mattered.
"So let me get this straight, Cam. You not only slept, but you sleepwalked?" John said.
"Yes. I was unaware of my surroundings for over two hours, during which I moved without being consciously aware of that action. This immediately followed an anomalous line of code spontaneously activating."
"Wait, what? What kind of code are we talking about here?" Sarah asked. More proof that the machine couldn't be trusted. It couldn't even trust itself.
"The code consists of seven characters of an unknown language in a green font."
Derek shook his head. "And green is significant, why?"
"Because my HUD is only equipped to display green when an object I see is actually green. All lettering appears in blue, red, or black. I have never seen green letters before."
John was confused. "So, is this code dangerous? I mean, you haven't tried to kill us or anything."
"For all we know, it could be a very simple seven letter word that's a command." Sarah knew this new code was bad news, whatever it was. Why couldn't John see the danger right in front of him?Because he doesn't see it as a machine
, said a voice in the back of Sarah's head. For a moment she asked herself what else he could possibly see it as, but the answer was all too obvious, and she didn't want to think about it.
"I agree. There are several commands that this code could be. Why it hasn't resolved into a comprehensible language yet is unknown. But the risk is too great. You must terminate me."
Sarah just blinked. "What? You want
us to kill you?"
John shook his head vigorously. "No. No way in hell. You chose not to kill me once; you can choose to ignore this code if you want to as well."
Derek was grinning like an idiot. "No, we won't kill her. Because you're not a her, are you? You can't be killed since you're not alive. And for once, I agree with the machine. We terminate
"Derek, you are not helping," John growled.
The conversation was interrupted by a knocking at the door.
They all stopped talking and armed themselves. Sarah went to answer the door, and elected to open it all the way, rather than let the chain catch it part way. Best not to seem suspicious; it wouldn't stop a terminator, anyway.
Sarah found herself face to face with a rather tall figure dressed in a trench coat, wearing dark gloves and boots. Neatly groomed blonde hair adorned the figure's head like a dome, but the eyes were covered by abnormally large sunglasses. The appearance was almost comical.
But then a sultry female voice asked in a level tone, "Sarah Connor?"
"Terminator!" Sarah shouted as she pulled her gun out and opened fire, and was soon joined by John and Derek. Cameron was moving forward to engage hand to hand.
Sarah didn't expect the bullets to do any real damage. She also did not expect a green light to shimmer in front of the machine, acting like an invisible wall, stopping the bullets in their tracks.
Sarah fell back to let the two machines fight it out, but oddly enough, no sounds of fighting came. Cameron just stood there as the other machine removed its sunglasses.
"Cameron, what are you doing?" John shouted.
"It's all right," Cameron said. How this could possibly be 'all right,' Sarah did not know. That line of code must have made been designed to make her docile for the enemy.
"She's not a machine," Cameron said.
"Correction," said the other machine. "I am mostly
not a machine." It stepped into the house in plain view, and now Sarah saw why it was wearing such large sunglasses.
The thing was beautiful, or at least it imitated beauty. It had a picturesque female face with piercing blue eyes and only the tiniest of wrinkles around them. It gave itself away quite spectacularly by the semicircle of black metal around its left eye.
"I apologize for surprising you. However, I require your assistance, and for that, I needed to locate you. And so I apologize for activating the code that allowed me to lure Cameron to me so that I might follow her back here."
"I… You… What?" This made no sense. Machines didn't apologize. Nor did they do half-assed jobs of disguising their true nature. "What are you?" Sarah blurted out.
"My designation," the woman/machine said before pausing, as if she had made a mistake. "My name," she said with emphasis, "is Seven of Nine. And I am here to help you stop Skynet; whether you want my help or not."
Seven looked at the shocked faces, and hoped they wouldn't waste any more ammunition. She also hoped that Cameron would not choose to engage her in combat, as Seven was doubtful of her ability to dissuade her from such a course if she felt it necessary.
"May I come in?" asked Seven calmly. Nobody answered. "Please?" she added.
Finally, after a very length pause, the boy who had to be John Connor spoke up. "Sure," though he didn't sound very sure. "Come in."
"John!" his mother reprimanded immediately. "Do I need to even explain why that is a bad idea?"
"Look, mom, if she wanted us dead, then she would probably be locked in combat with Cameron right now."
"And if I ever fought Cameron," Seven interrupted, "I would lose. My skeleton is bone, not titanium or coltan."
"Threat assessment is not minimal, but still well within acceptable parameters," Cameron said, most likely in an attempt to reassure the Connors.
John seemed more than willing to take her word for it, which gave Seven hope. His mother, on the other hand, seemed ready to shoot at her again. And the other man, who Seven did not recognize, also looked murderous. Seven was beginning to understand how John Connor became the man she knew from the future.
Seven had still not moved from the door, and the others, it seemed, were looking at her expectantly. "I have no desire for conflict. I will not enter without your permission," she said in a somewhat softer voice, though it took some effort to do so. Seven was not typically a soft individual.
Sarah scowled and jerked her gun to indicate that Seven should move inside. "Get in, but if you try anything," she threatened.
"You will shoot at me again? And watch your bullets bounce away from me before they touch my body? I have no love for Skynet, and thus I do not wish you to waste your ammunition in such a futile gesture. For my part, I will try not to provoke one."
"Glad we cleared that up," the scruffy-looking man said without humor.
Seven walked inside and took in the house. It was comfortable, but there were boxes in various states of being packed - or possibly unpacked). It was good that Seven had caught them when she had, where she had.
"Now, then," Sarah said impatiently, "who are you, and what, exactly, are you doing here?"
Seven breathed a heavy breath, but did not look to take a seat. If anything, she stood up straighter. "That is a long story, but it is one that you must know. Put your weapons away, and I will tell you everything."