A.N.: This is the beginning of a novelization of Tron Uprising. It will mostly be in Beck's or Tron's POV and will omit the parts where they are not present most likely. It will have my own twist to the series.

Disclaimer: I do not own Tron.

Ch. 1: Beck's Beginning pt. 1- Beck's POV

Intro

"Hidden away inside a computer, exists, another world. Its Creator designed it from games, but it became so much more. He called it: The Grid, a digital utopia filled with infinite possibilities. He built a digital copy of himself, named Clu, to help create the perfect system. And he relied on the hero, Tron, to keep it free, for all programs who live there. But in his thirst for power, Clu betrayed his Creator."

"Flynn, go."

"Tron fought back, but Clu was too powerful and left him for dead. Clu dispatched his armies and seized absolute control. Now, in a far of corner of the Grid, a young program decides Clu must be stopped. His name is Beck. Could he be the next Tron?"

He was racing against Clu's men.

He was falling towards the Outlands, desperately trying to find his baton.

"You know, you're not Tron."

Beck glanced down at the T-shaped symbol on his chest before looking up at his captor. "Never said I was," he replied. He took in the almost completely black armored figure. What circuitry that was visible was the corrupted orange of Clu's men. Yet, Beck somehow knew this man wasn't one of them. There was something familiar about this place, about his captor. His presence seemed to tug at something in his memory banks, in a forbidden part that he could not access.

"Who are you?" his captor asked.

"Name's Beck," he answered.

Just as he was about to fall he deployed a Tron chute. It didn't stop the inevitable landing, but softened it enough that he wasn't derezzed. He couldn't say the same for the chute or the land in front of him.

"You really thought you could get away with what you did back there," his captor said.

He gasped, waking from standby and took in the barren outlands surrounding him.

"I did get away with it," Beck said.

He heard a cracking sound and as it grew closer he stood and stared in horror at the derezzing land before him, heading his way. "Oh, great." He ran.

"Doesn't look like it to me," his captor said.

He kept running, barely escaping the vanishing data, Mentally, he cursed his luck as he noticed a huge abyss coming up. No time for anything else, he ran as fast as he could and jumped, barely making it to the edge of the other side in time for the line of derezzing to reach the edge he had just been on. He pulled himself up and took a few deep breaths before walking onwards through the Outlands. Finally, he came to what seemed like a junkyard of various light vehicles. He finally found a Light Crawler that was perfect for what he needed. Using the Recoder Bodhi had given him he fixed the engine and started off again. It was only seconds later that he found himself being chased again by one of Clu's men, though he had no clue why they would be way out here. Activating his light ribbons, he raced ahead. His eyes widened when a rise in the land sent his crawler flying through the air for a few seconds. Suddenly, the other program activated his own light ribbons and appeared beside him, then pulled ahead. He cried out as the program trapped his crawler in a ribbon loop, derezzing it and sending him falling to the ground. He looked up as the program headed towards him, having gotten off his own crawler and activated its headlights.

"You're a long way from home, program," the program said.

Determinedly, he pulled his identity disc from his back. Just as he was about to throw the disc, the other program threw a detonator at him that suddenly surrounded him with painful red energy, trapping him. He was barely aware of his disc rolling away.

When he woke up, his hands were cuffed behind his back. A light suddenly went on and he flinched from the brightness.

"You're not afraid?" the program asked. He gasped, looking behind his back.

"No," he replied.

"You should be," was his captor's response.

Opening his eyes, he returned to the present.

"So, his captor said. "Beck, what made you decide to go renegade?"

"If you think I'm the Renegade," he replied as his captor walked towards him, "there's no point in talking."

"Then don't talk," his captor said, pulling the disc from his back. "I'll let you show me." He watched as the program activated his disc with ease and it displayed a hologram of Able's Garage. "You work here?" The images changed and the program turned, hiding the various data he was analyzing.

"Yeah," he said, "but you want to know why I did what I did. It all began there, Able's Garage."

It was a normal day at the garage.

"Beck, you coming?" Bodhi asked. "I want that rematch."

"Hang on Bodhi," he replied as he tried to fix up the cycle he was working on.

"Here," Bodhi said, "Try with this." He took the tool Bodhi was holding out to him.

"Didn't realize you were in such a rush to get beat," he said.

"It never felt like work, but that's probably 'cause I was doing it with my friends."

"Showoff," Mara said, joining Bodhi.

"Just using my natural talent," he said.

"Looks like showing off to me," she said.

"Or he's afraid of the rematch," Bodhi said.

"Why would he be," Zed said. "You've never won.

"Yet, Zed, yet."

He grinned as the cycle roared to life. "There, now we can go," he said. He gasped as he dodged a tool that Bodhi threw at him. His grin grew and he chased after his friends.

"Now, I may be a young program, but I've been on the Grid long enough to know I have it good. Able's Garage is not just a job, it's my home. The only thing I enjoyed more than the job, were the Disc Games we'd get into afterward."

He remembered the game so well, especially the final move.

"Huh, not bad Bodhi, looks like you've been practicing," he had said.

"I don't need encouragement from you Beck," Bodhi had replied.

"Looks like you do," he had said, throwing both his and Bodhi's disc at his friend who dodged, only for them to hit the walls and fly back at him, hitting him and knocking him to the ground.

"Player 2, defeated," a voice announced. "Game over." The walls descended and he walked over to Bodhi with both discs. "Do you wish to play again?"

He held out Bodhi's disc. "Best you can do?" he asked.

"Just warming up," Bodhi replied.

"That's what I like about you Bodhi," he said. "You don't give up."

The sound of several Light Jets and Recognizers turned their attention away from a rematch. In the middle was a giant ship.

"Greetings programs, this is General Tesler," a voice announced.

"That can't be…" Mara said.

"Good," Zed finished.

"In the name of our great leader Clu, I now proclaim Argon City as occupied territory."

The huge ship hovered about the city center and Mara and Zed rushed back towards them as a statue was dropped. A huge explosion ripped through the field. Bodhi reached the statue first but he wasn't far behind. They both stared up at it.

"Definitely not good," he said.

There were other programs now behind them as they watched the guards march through the city like they owned the place, which they pretty much did now.

"If Tron were here," he said.

"You mean if Tron were alive," Bodhi replied.

He bit back a retort. It would be no use trying to explain to Bodhi the unexplainable sense he got that Tron was alive. He had felt it ever since he had woken up at Able's Garage with no memory of his past but his name and that he was a mechanic. He had remembered the Grid's history, but his own was a complete blank. The only clues he had were Able's secretiveness and lack of surprise when he appeared, his mechanical skills and his disc game skills, which included wielding two discs.

He watched as Bodhi walked up to one of the guards. "Hey, that's our field," Bodhi said.

"This is our field now," the guard replied.

"Hey, you can't do…" Bodhi was smacked to the ground by the guard's staff.

"Bodhi!" Mara exclaimed.

Bodhi locked up at the guard who was now standing above him.

"No more games," the guard said. Bodhi stood up and suddenly terror filled him as he knew what was about to happen.

"You don't scare us," Bodhi said, facing the guard. In response, the guard struck Bodhi with the staff again, this time derezzing him.

"Bodhi!" he cried out as he watched the scattered bits of Bodhi's data remains fall to the ground and his friends disc follow, rolling to a stop against his foot. He leaned down and picked it up. "You won't get away with that," he said, standing up.

"Want to be next?" the guard asked.

"Beck don't," Zed said, resting a hand on his shoulder. "There's nothing we can do."

"For now," he said, determination filling him. He wouldn't let them get away with this.

"You lost a friend, you were angry, but it sounds like it was his own fault," his captor said.

"It was Clu's fault," he said remembering how he had stared out at the rain after Bodhi's death. "Before he sent Tesler and you goons here everything was fine. But now, as it hit me that I would never see Bodhi again, it became clear. I had to do something.

He stared resolutely at the Recoder Bodhi had given him in his hand. Tossing it once into the air, he headed for the garage elevator. As he walked, he removed his disc and attached the Recoder to it. Changing his suit to resemble Tron's felt easy and right, like a part of him that he had lost was returning.

"You really thought one program could make a difference," his captor said skeptically.

"Why not?" he replied. "One program already did." He remembered how right it felt as his suit changed and he fell into Tron's role. "Tron. I decided to take on his identity. Tron saved the grid before. Maybe he could do it again.

The storm was a perfect cover. As he hid between the guards' tanks, he watched them, analyzing their routine. Finally, seeing an opening, he ran up to the statue and began to climb it, carefully avoiding the guards. At the top of the statue, he pulled out his disc and skillfully cut of its head, pushing it to the ground. He tossed a detonator into the opening of the statue.

"Perimeter breach," he heard one of the guards say too late. He was already easily hopping down the statues levels. As the explosion reached him, he rezzed his cycle and started down the road. His work was done for now. The guards would spread the rumor of the Renegade bearing Tron's symbol that destroyed CLu's precious statue. With his luck, CLu himself would be on Tesler's ship and his pride would make him dispel the idea. He frowned as an error registered with his system at the thought. The glitch disappeared as soon as it came however and he barely paused to comprehend it or search for its source. He had to get as far away as he could.

He raced through the city, as the corrupted goons of Clu and Tesler appeared and started to follow him.

"Clu's forces didn't deter you?" his captor asked. There was almost pride in his voice, but he was too busy feeling pride of his own to detect it.

"They tried," he replied, "but they were amateurs. I've been riding the streets of Argon long before they came. They never had a shot."

Probably his best stunt with the amateur guards was when he swung off his cycle from a pole and let his wayward cycle do the derezzing for him. He had gotten both guards.

"That was easy," he said. He landed on the ground as the pole derezzed in his hands.

"Doesn't explain how you ended up alone, in the Outlands," his captor said.

He cried out as one of Tesler's more skilled goons knocked him against a wall.

"Clearly*, it turns out they weren't all amateurs," he replied.

The orange cloaked program walked up to him and just as it was about to punch him, he kicked its helmet, revealing a feminine eye. Sure enough, his attacker was a young raven-haired woman. She stared at him fiercely as she recalled her helmet. She threw back her cloak. "Now that," she said, grabbing her identity disc, "was a mistake." Her disc activated in her hand. "So you're Tron. Huh, thought you'd be taller."

With a skillfull leap, he jumped onto the building he had been sitting against. Luckily for him, she had cornered him between two buildings. He used both of them and their structures to turn the tides in his favor. Now, he was the one cornering her. He held his disc in anticipation. It had been a while since he had had a good fight.

Error. Hadn't he had a good fight with Bodhi? That same part of him from before answered yes, but not the kind like this. That was what he had meant. Yet, he couldn't remember ever fighting before this, though his skills suggested otherwise. Then again, he couldn't remember much of his past.

Focusing his attention on his opponent, he ran at her. He skillfully avoided her thrown disc, only for her to use his prone posture against him. He resisted the urge to blush as she sat on him.

"What a waste," she said.

The fear of derezzing from the disc she was about to put in him was enough to make him gather his senses. He stopped her hand, struggling to keep the blade above his head.

"They usually don't last this long," she said. "Who are you?"

"You said it yourself," he replied. He knocked her disc from her hand and escaped her grip. "I'm Tron." Without a second thought he ran. There was a Light Jet following them that pulled ahead and his mind raced with the possibilities. He suddenly froze as he found himself at a dead end, cornered. The light from the jet shined down on him.

"Okay," he said. "This is a problem."

"There you are," the female guard said. He turned to face her.

"Here I am," he replied as two more guards came down from the jet in Tron Chutes. They walked towards him, their discs activating.

"Game over, Program," the female guard said.

"Not yet," he replied, grinning. He ran at them. Jumping, he used the two goons as springboards, allowing him to jump between the walls of the buildings. Running on top of the warehouses, he found himself at a dead end again, staring out into the Sea of Simulation. He turned to run back but the female guard was already there waiting for him.

"How long are you going to keep running?" she asked.

The sound of the Light Jet from before caught his attention. "I'm done," he said, turning and doing a running onto the jet. "My ride's here."

He landed right in front of the cockpit and silently smashed the pilot through one of the computers before throwing him back.

"Warning," a feminine voice alerted. "Flight control offline."

He pulled out the Recoder Bodhi had given him. "Thank's Bodhi," he said. "Come on, Come on," he muttered as he used it to repair the control panel. "Nice."

"Flight controls, restored."

He suddenly turned and wrestled slightly with the female guard from before who had been about to derezz him.

"You know," she said. "This isn't yours." She stomped on his foot and after more wrestling, held him to the floor. "I can't wait to see what you've got…"

He flipped and now he was the one on top. "Maybe we should slow things down," he joked, "get to know each other better."

"Impressive," she said. "Maybe you should work for me. We'd make quite a team."

"I don't like your boss," he replied. "Maybe you should work for me." He grabbed his disc.

"Sorry," she said. "Don't see a future in that."

She kicked him and the alarms sounding through the jet grew. They narrowly missed crashing into a building. That still didn't stop them from continuing their fight though. Finally, he was kicked through the jet and had to hang on desperately. He threw his discs, destroying one of the engines and sending the pain crashing. Gaining his grip, he pulled himself up and knocked out the female guard with his disc. "That was fun," he said, tossing the Recoder in his hand. "We should do this again." He headed towards the exit door. "Hope you know how to land this thing." And with that, he began his fall into the Outlands that had led him here.

His captor deactivated his disc and walked towards him again. "You know this makes you an enemy of the State," he said, tossing the disc to the ground beside him (Beck).

"The state is the enemy," he replied. Secretly, he activated his Recoder and began to work on unlocking the cuffs.

"I see what you're trying to do," his captor said. With that, he deactivated the Recoder. "You can dress up like Tron all you want, but he's still dead."

"That's what they tell us," he said, returning to his escape attempt. He deactivated it again as the program walked past him.

"Why do you want programs to think he's alive?" his captor asked.

"Maybe he is," he replied, letting his feelings on the matter show. "And maybe if others think so too, they'll be braver, think for themselves some more, not sit still for Clu's rule." It was a response that came from his forgotten past.

"You really think if they believe Tron's alive it will inspire a revolution?" his captor said.

He remained stoic as he finally broke the cuffs. "I know it will," he said. With that, he grabbed his disc and attacked his captor. "We won't be intimidated. I don't care how strong or powerful your forces are! "

Suddenly, his captor had him in a chokehold. "You should," he said. He grunted as he was thrown to the floor, his disc landing nearby. "Your actions have consequences." He trembled and slowly stood up.

"So does image," he said, rushing at the program, "or slavery, or friends of mine, gone*." His opponent blocked each punch and kick he threw with ease. Suddenly, his opponent once again had him in a bind.

"And nothing I say will stop you?" his opponent asked.

"I won't stop fighting," he replied. He endured the hits he was given in response. He kept his calm appearance but was secretly elated when he was kicked back to where his disc was. He looked over to the spotlight he had been under only to see it empty and his opponent nowhere to be seen.

'He's behind me,' he thought, turning around, only to have his opponents disk fly up and stop right at his neck. He winced and closed his eyes, opening them when he realized his opponent had no plans to derezz him yet. It felt like he was trying to teach him a lesson.

"Even if it means you'll be derezzed right now?" his opponent asked.

"If it means others will take up my cause," he said, determined. He moved his arm and now had his own disc pressed against his opponent's neck. "So be it." "Step aside," he ordered. "Let me out."

"No," his captor replied.

"Then this is the end of both of us," he said. Yet, his very being was screaming that this was wrong, that he couldn't kill this man.

"You won't hurt me," his captor said.

"What makes you so sure?" he asked, wondering how the captor seemed so certain that he wouldn't. He was surprised when the orange disc against his neck was pulled back and deactivated.

"Because you were right about one thing," his captor said. He watched in shock as the helmet pulled back and a familiar face was revealed, a scar running across one part. The black suit slowly derezzed to be replaced by a white one with the familiar T. "I'm not dead."

"Tron," he said, suddenly realizing he had pulled back his disc. "I was right. You're here to help." Yet, that didn't seem right either. Currently, his system was going haywire with glitches and errors upon seeing Tron. The security program obviously played an important part in his forbidden memories, though he couldn't figure out how.

"No," Tron said, "I'm here because I need help."

"What?" he said.

"From someone who's committed," Tron continued, "and I think you may be just what I'm looking for." There was a look in Tron's eyes as if saying that there was a lot more he wanted to say but couldn't, as if he was too afraid of the consequences of it.

"What are you looking for?" he asked. The room they were in lit up.

"The next Tron," Tron said.