"You didn't stand a chance against us," says Greshim, flatly pulling me from the reverie of memory files, "coming into the city without someone already there to sneak you in."
I make a face and absently rub the back of my head, mussing up my hair.
"I didn't have anybody else. And I hadn't figured out that I could make forged discs yet," I said.
That's what I've been doing for the better part of the last 600 cycles; using my knowledge of construction to help the resistance. Nowadays, you're more likely to catch me programming a forged disk or an outfit download for disguise than prototyping a new solar sailor.
The outfits are some of the most important things I do, actually. The ones we're born in aren't really designed to come off, after all. Temporary downloads and upgrades are really the only way to change them without laser-torching them off and starting from scratch, and surprisingly few of us know how to program our own. In that respect, all my playing around during off hours back in my old system quarters have paid off. That's what has allowed me to survive. The Yori all of these people are watching isn't wearing the blatant uniform she came here in anymore. Not exactly, anyway.
The body of it, the Y formed by the tiny squares that's centered below the triangle on my chest, the line of circuitry running down my throat, the curved collar of light framing the triangle, the sideways, elongated triangles that follow the curve of my hips, the bars of circuitry down the front of my thighs, they're all the same cerulean blue. But the circuits running down the shins and around the back of my boots, the lights on the gloves I replaced the old ones with after I torched them off, they're all white now. So is the border on the long, wide sleeved jacket I wear now. My hair, too, is different. It's down, no hood. Sharp, flaring blond layers fly wildly and freely around my face, down to my shoulders. While Clu was in power, I masked my disk in white, too, but these days, its back to itself.
Blue, with white. I'm the only multicolor program I know, but it suits who I am now. My one fear is that if Tron, or Rinzler, (or whoever he is now,) is still out there, he wouldn't even recognize me.
Author's Note: I know I promised action, but it just occured to me that I created a whole new image for Yori now that she's in the new system, but none of you knew what it was! So there you go. Thanks again for reading!
End of Line.