A/N

Probably apparent, but I'll specify ahead of time that this is based on the context of the intro of Terminator 2.

In the Swing of Things

There's a T-800 on the swing.

That statement alone might raise an eyebrow. But looking at it, I don't see anything unusual. It's a T-800. A T-800 with a missing arm, missing leg and numerous holes in its body. It's a T-800 that's being posed on the swing so that some Resistance members can pose around it while one of their number records the event with what's meant to be a shoulder-cam.

I turn away from them, casually waving my hand as they stand up to salute. I can let them have their fun. They deserve it. They all do.

I keep walking through the playground. It's on a hill, looking over what's left of Los Angeles. Once, parents took their children here, enjoying what the playground had to offer while also enjoying the view. My mother came here once as well, a moment of solace before heading into Mexico and training humanity's future saviour. Watching the children, partly looking for tips, partly breathing in what she could never have.

There's still children around here. I'm looking at them right now, loading salvaged parts onto our vehicles. We've hit Skynet hard and before long, we'll be able to move against NORAD. Before long, maybe these children can play in this park, and not have to worry about heavy lifting.

"General Connor? A minute, sir?"

I turn around. Captain Justin Perry is looking at me.

"Captain," I say. "Your report."

Perry grins faintly-no-one really has much to smile about these days, but we've got to keep things in context.

"Well, quite frankly sir, we kicked Skynet's arse."

That kind of context.

"There's no signs of enemy movement in a ten mile radius," Perry continues, showing me a map of Los Angeles that's taken out of an old road guide, albeit with numerous tactical markings. "My guess would be that it's pulling its forces back to Colorado."

"Cheyenne Mountain," I muse.

"Yeah."

The smile's faded by now. And it's not due to the whole 'you're my superior' stuff or that another T-800 remain has made its way onto a see-saw.

"Speak your mind Perry," I say.

The captain sighs.

"Sir, it's just…the stuff we've found in the facility," he says. "I mean…I'm a soldier, not a scientist, but it doesn't look like your run of the mill gear."

"Leave it to the techs Perry," I say. "Consider it an order."

I could tell him more, I muse. Could tell him what I know, and what the last few physicists left in the world know as well. Skynet's begun construction of a time machine, and the gear we've found proves it. It's going to lose the war at this rate, and the only hope it has is to send a Terminator back in time to kill my mother and in doing so, kill me. Kind of flattering in a way…

Of course, it means I'm going to have to send my own father back to the past to protect my mother and do…well, stuff I'd rather not reflect on. It means that I can't tell anyone, not even Perry, about this. Kyle Reese is ready physically, but I can't have him operating under the future knowledge that, among other things, I'm sending him to his death. And as much as I trust Perry, I can't impart that knowledge to him either. I've sent men and women to die for years, but I've always been able to justify these acts to those who follow me. How can I justify Operation Chrono to Reese or Perry when I'm still having trouble justifying it to myself?

Perry walks off and I look back at the swing. Now abandoned, the T-800 turned off and its CPU extracted for any info we can gain from it.

Maybe one day, when all this is over, when my conscience is at ease, I'll be able to sit on the swing as well.