Chapter 1

July 22, 2091-Boston, Massachusetts

Light Tower was a lot bigger than Tracy had imagined. She was escorted into the lobby, still in restraints. She looked to the woman escorting her, "I know you don't believe me, but can we please cut these zip ties off? This is kind of embarrassing." She said, looking at the gawkers.

"If we find out that you are who you claim to be, then I'll cut you loose. Until then, better safe and all that." The woman called "Miller" responded.

Tracy rolled her eyes, "I told you, I can prove who I am, just open my bag."

The Captain kept walking, "Calm down, we're almost there." She replied, as they entered the lift.

On the top floor, they walked through security checkpoints, before approaching the holding cells. Tracy sighed, as she was put inside the cube of reinforced glass. She rubbed her freed wrists, looking at the male soldier, "Hey, can I have my things now? You guys already took the data drive."

Radcliffe nodded, "Miller's taking the drive to Dr. Light, and a droid is on the way to scan your bag."

She laid on the bed, looking to the ceiling, almost dozing off. Almost, that is, before Miller returned, obviously irritated. "Up, girl." She said, "What the hell are you playing, here?" She asked.

Tracy stayed on the bed, smiling, "Can't get past my encoding?" She picked at her teeth, "Bring my things to me, in Dr. Light's office, please."

Miller huffed, then activated her comms, walking outside the door. Tracy sat up, grinning at Radcliffe and the guards. Miller wasn't gone long, before returning, "Congratulations," she said, "you now hold the record, for shortest detention stay in Light Tower." She said to Tracy, who stood and curtsied, sarcastically.

In Light's office, the brown-haired man sat, awaiting her arrival. Preston Light looked impatient, the stubble on his face suggested a high amount of drinking, and an equally low amount of sleep, in his lifestyle. At the age of forty, he was already feeling run-down and defeated. He raised his eyes to her, as she entered with Miller in tow.

"Tracy 'Tron' Bonne, huh?" He asked, skeptically, eying the small, pink-haired, nineteen year old. "So, this is you?" He said, activating a holopad, bringing up a picture.

Tracy put a hand over her mouth, unsuccessfully stifling a laugh. The picture was an artist rendering of a tall, muscular woman, with a dark pink liberty spiked mohawk, and two huge machine guns. Beside her was a small, silver robot, with a skull on it's chest, and cannons for hands. "That is so me." She answered, sardonically.

Light was slightly amused, "Bring me her things, please." He said to Miller. "You know, I don't disbelieve you. But we are in the middle of a...situation, at the moment. Are you familiar with The Rancors?" He asked.

Tracy raised an eyebrow, "I've been living under bridges, in restrooms, and in storm drains for the last three months. I wasn't even sure if I was going the right direction half the time." She leaned closer, "So, no, Dr. Light. What is a fucking 'rancor'?" She asked.

He brushed the subject off, as Miller placed her duffel bag on the desk. Light opened it, to see a small, yellow-face robot, looking out at him. "So you are Tron Bonne. I must admit, the drawings are a tad exaggerated." He said, pulling the servbot out.

"Since he's out, any way you could hook him up and reboot him? Life on the road was too much for him." She asked, grinning.

He looked over to her, "Shouldn't be a problem. But let's talk about this data drive first."

"I'm not decrypting it." She stated plainly. "Not until you agree to help me, and everyone, ultimately."

He was confused, "Okay, I'm listening." He responded.

Tracy pulled out a framed plexiholo, activating a thumbnail picture. It brought up a photo of her and Scott, taken days before his capture.

"Your brother." He began, "He was executed, I'm aware of that and I sympathize, I really do. But if you are planning on asking me to go after Wily, I'm afraid the answer's 'no'."

She shook her head slowly, "Not exactly. I'll give you a small hint of what's on that drive. The men leading Wily's forces, all over the nation, aren't men, at all. They're the highest form of A.I. Living, thinking, humanoids."

Light was knocked of guard, speechless for a moment. But he knew she was telling the truth, his former best friend was certainly capable of deviant things, he had come to find out.

She pointed to the data stick, "Information on a good amount of android officers, is what's on that. My brother and my friends all died getting that intel. The last time I spoke with Scott, he told me to put this in your hands, that you were the only capable person to make use of it." She looked at him, seriously now, "When he was executed, I encrypted it, thoroughly."

Light was baffled again, "Why? Why would you do that?"

"Because, the fate of a nation is now on your shoulders, and I need a favor. Otherwise, everybody will continue to suffer and be slaves here, just because you wouldn't help a young, homeless girl." She replied.

He stared at her, "You're clever, I'll give you that. I'm starting to see why The Wraiths enlisted you." He put his glasses back on, "Alright, Miss Bonne, what can Light Industries do for you?"

"I've followed your career my entire life, just about. I've always considered you to be a superior engineer to Wily. So if he can make these things, so can you." She pointed to the photo, "I want my brother back. He deserves more than a bolt through the head, for his heroism, and we still have unfinished business." She stated.

Miller scoffed, "Out of the fucking question. Get up, we're leaving."

Light raised a hand, "Hold on, Lana." He said, stopping her.

"What?!" She replied, "You can't be serious! Machines are our enemy, Preston!"

He smiled, "We've heard the stories about you, Tracy. If they're true than you should be able to easily program a stable artificial life form. And if what you say is true, we are going to need some sort of defense against the machines." He nodded, "I'll build a prototype of your brother, on one condition. We are not attacking Wily, that is not an option, here. But when the time is right, and if we have the means, we will make our move. But not until I say. Understood?"

"Got it." She said, as she opened Robbie's back plate, and pulled out a data stick. "Here you go, Doctor." She said, tossing it to him.

"What is this?" He asked.

"It's Detective Shroud's full intel and network, like I promised." She said, pulling the data drive from the console.

"Then, what's that?" Light questioned.

"My personal music collection." She said, putting it in her pocket, "I couldn't actually encrypt an entire data drive out on the run, c'mon." She gave him a wink, and began to walk out.

"Miss Bonne," He said, stopping her, "what would you say if I offered you a job with us? I have an empty lab on the top floor."

She grinned, "I would say Dr. Bonne has a nice ring to it."

Tracy walked slowly into her fully-stocked working quarters. She felt like a kid on Christmas, as she tossed her bag on the worktable. She looked around in amazement, before hearing a young man's voice behind her, "So, the Tron Bonne, here in Light Tower." He said, as she turned around. He was a slim, plain-looking man, about her age, staring back at her in awe. He put out his hand, "I'm sorry, Brian Jennings, I'm Dr. Light's apprentice in Advanced Technology Development."

She shook his hand, responding, "Tracy Bonne. I don't go by that other name, anymore."

"I hope you don't mind me asking," he began, as she pulled the servbot from her bag, "but how old are you? I don't mean any disrespect, it's just, I thought, from the stories and all, you would be..."

"Bigger?" She finished, grinning. "Nineteen." She answered.

"Wow, I mean, you're my age." He said, amazed.

She shrugged, "Guess we were all forced to start learning early. How long have you been here?"

He chuckled, lightly, "I've lived here my whole life, just about. My dad was one of the resident workers back when this place was The Wily-Light Tower. He always talked about how much fun this place used to be, back when the two of them would have employee banquets, and all that." He lowered his head. "I was in middle school when it just became Light Tower, been kinda glum since."

Tracy rolled her eyes, turning to grab various fabrics and metals from the cases. "The Takeover really did a number on you guys." She said sarcastically, "Made you all sad and shit."

Brian looked down, slightly embarrassed, "I'm aware of what the outside world thinks of us, in here." He looked back up to her, "But we aren't completely apathetic."

"Yeah, Miss Bonne," Miller interjected, walking in, "Not everyone is out causing mass hysteria. Some of us choose to fight back in a more subtle way." She nodded to Jennings, who took the hint and left the lab. "Don't get me wrong, The Wraiths were a beacon of hope and heroism to all of us. But I never took you for the self righteous type."

Now it was Tracy's turn to feel like an ass. "I'm sorry, I've just been alone and sulking for too long, I guess."

Miller smirked, "I understand trying to make a change, but violently lashing out against Wily brings on the wrong kind, especially if you're unprepared."

Tracy chuckled, "Are you kidding me?" She said, hooking up a shaping grinder, "We were fully prepared," She fired up the machine, "and organized!" She yelled over the screaming steel plank.

Miller was unaffected by the noise, simply shouting over it as well, "Not The Wraiths! I'm talking about the irresponsible splinter groups you inspired."

Tracy stopped the machine, pulling her goggles up, "What are you talking about? That's just crazy."

Miller raised an eyebrow, "Is it? Since the fall of your group, there have been several bands of novices, getting themselves killed trying to fight the machines. Then there's this latest gang of savages, they call themselves The Rancors. They're a different breed, they're actually good at what they do."

"Ah, well there ya go." Tracy interrupted, clicking her tongue.

Miller put a hand up, "What they do is loot supplies that would be rationed to the civilians, then torch Wily's buildings and stores to the ground. What they are doing is hurting everyone, and no one can seem to get their hands on the pricks." She rubbed her forehead, "In a month we've only seen two in the act, but they got away."

Tracy went back to work on her materials, "I believe you'll figure something out." She said pulling her goggles back down.

"Well, that's kind of your job now." Miller said smirking, "You'll start patrols with Radcliffe tomorrow, so don't stay up too late tinkering with..." She looked at the pile of metal, raising an eyebrow, "What the hell are you doing, anyway?"

"Oh this?" Tracy said, looking back to her, "It's a dog. Well, sort of."