Hey everybody! Hope you're all having a good 4th of July! Anyway, here's the latest chapter. Enjoy and R&R...for all of you who have been reviewing, I greatly appreciate it; you all are what's keeping me writing this ~Moore12~

Nine

1992

I

She opened her eyes and looked around warily, well aware of what had happened to her but unaware of where she was. As far as she could tell, she was safe. She didn't recognize the room she was in at all but there was nothing particularly threatening about it, so she allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief and acknowledge that she had survived. But what happened? she wondered as she sat up. And where am I?

That was when she saw him, sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, smiling at her. It can't be, she thought, in wonder. It can't be the creator. "I see you've finally rebooted," Flynn smiled at her warmly; yes, it was Flynn and not his program, Clu; everything had worked out after all.

"You saved me?" she asked, still amazed by everything that was happening. The memory of Rinzler holding her down, of the hand that had given her hope that maybe it wasn't over after all, of everything fading to black tore through her. She had to wonder how Flynn had saved her, how he had taken down Clu's number one assassin.

"Of course I did, Quorra," Flynn replied, his smile widening into a rather boyish grin. "I just happened to be in the right place at the right time, and I wasn't about to let Rinzler de-rezz you."

That didn't make any sense, and she knew it. Why would the creator put his life in danger for her…for one ISO? Why would he be willing to fight Rinzler and risk everything he had worked for—he was, after all, the only one who could adequately resist Clu—for her? "Why?" she finally asked after a prolonged moment of silence.

"Why?" Flynn echoed, a slightly surprised look on his face. He paused—clearly trying to think up an adequate answer—and then continued, "Well, I couldn't just let him de-rezz you, not when I could help. You can't always just think about yourself, you know?"

She didn't think anybody really thought about anybody other than themselves anymore so Flynn's reasoning amazed her. Most programs selfishly ignored the plight of the ISOs; their indifference saved them from Clu's wrath. Others—the ones that had always been hostile towards Flynn's "miracle"—sided with Clu, becoming allies, helping him to wipe out the "virus." Very few were sympathetic, helping to smuggle ISOs out of the city or hiding them in their homes; for the most part, they met the same fate as the ISOs they had futilely tried to save. Clu was ruthless, the programs knew it. Nobody wanted to make him their enemy, and the vast majority decided to put themselves first, save only themselves. The User world must be different, she thought as she stared at Flynn in wonder. I can learn so much from him…

Realizing that Flynn was staring at her questioningly, she broke off her thoughts and asked, "So…where am I?"

"Well," Flynn replied—was it just her, or did he look more serious?—slowly, "You're at my house in the Outlands. You'll be safe here…"

Safe? She was confused; wasn't she going to help him save other ISOs…if there were any left? "So what are we going to do?" she asked softly, trying to figure out what was really going on here.

"We wait," Flynn said softly, his voice serious. "We wait because it's the only thing we can do."

II

"What happened?" his master snarled as soon as he walked into the room, well aware that he had come back later than the Black Guard. "Where have you been?"

Growling weakly, he just shook his head. The last thing he wanted was for his master to remove his identity disc and see how he had lost the ISO…to none other than their enemy. He could feel the familiar rage building inside him—shooting through his processors—at the thought he had failed to complete an important mission…and failed to kill the enemy when he had the chance. But everything had happened so fast, and he had to admit the enemy had been formidable. He had barely known what had hit him, and he was lucky the evil one hadn't stopped to de-rezz him.

"The Black Guard returned micros ago!" his master raged, turning on him with the familiar anger in his eyes. "They claimed you had gone off on your own to check something out and said you just never came back…Well, what happened, man?"

Clearly seething, his master didn't wait for the answer to that question; instead, he snatched the identity disc from his back. He could only watch as he pulled up the memory of his failure to de-rezz the ISO because of the interference of the enemy. He could only watch as he shot him the most menacing glare he had seen in cycles after watching him be thrown into a wall (and get knocked out for a few micros—just enough to allow them to escape) by the massive pulse of energy. Finally—after a long moment where he just stared at the disc—his master threw it to the ground and yelled, "Rinzler, you had Flynn! You had one of the last ISOs!"

His CPU burned at the realization that he had failed so terribly, and he growled at the mention of his enemy's name. This wasn't over yet. Even if his master did rewrite some of his coding yet again—as was always the case when he failed to complete a task and, hence, was clearly "malfunctioning"—he wouldn't forget this.

He'd see to it that the enemy and his precious little ISO were deleted forever…

III

He didn't even look up when a new program was shoved into the cell next to his. Every cycle was the same as the ones that came before; new programs were brought into the games to play, were de-rezzed and then replaced. Programs—the ones that still sided with Flynn at least—were expendable to Clu and treated as such. The only thing that remained a constant was him. He survived cycle after cycle, de-rezzing countless innocent programs to do so. Making friends? He couldn't do that, not there, not in a place even darker and more evil than the old Game Grid. He had to—even though sometimes it felt like it went against his very programming—think only of himself.

"What's going on?" he heard the program shout, his voice a mixture of anger and fear. "I didn't do anything wrong! Why was I sent here?"

Well, gee, I dunno, he thought cynically, wanting to tell the program to shut up and accept the fact he was never going to see his freedom again. Maybe Clu just doesn't like you. That was when he heard movement in the cell next to him, and he looked up to see the new guy gawking at him through the force field connecting their cells. "I don't believe it!" he exclaimed, a—how in the name of the Users could he be smiling?—"Clu has you in here too! Everybody thought he had you de-rezzed…"

A glare forming on his face, he was about to respond—tell the program to shut up or he'd make sure he'd meet a painful end—but the program continued, "You…you can get us all out of here! You could organize a rebellion…you could…"

"Look, bud," he growled without even getting up, bearing his teeth to look as threatening as possible. "I ain't getting out of here, and neither are you. So just shut up."

"But…" the program's face visibly fell—for a moment, he felt guilty about destroying the poor newbie's last hope but he brushed it off with ease—and he asked, "But you're an admin, aren't you?"

"Look, I'm just an actuarial program, alright?" he snarled, enraged to have to discuss his old—and hardly ever used—functions; enraged at the idea he could get all the programs out of there when he knew it was impossible. "I'm real sorry Clu had it in for ya, but there's nothing I can do…But…well, there is one thing."

The program gave him a hopeful look, clearly thinking that he was suggesting that escape was possible. Poor naïve glitch, he thought bitterly, remembering cycles when he used to be that innocent, when he used to believe in the Users and that programs could live normal, happy lives. "Yeah," he continued, smirking up at the new guy who had no idea he was the vicious, undefeated Champion of the games. "I'll help ya escape…by de-rezzing you myself."

The moment the words came out of his mouth, he regretted them…

2009

The light runner blasted through the wall with ease, and Quorra shot through the opening and into the arena. She would have to make this rescue quick to elude capture, and she quickly surveyed the scene. To her horror, Rinzler had just caused Sam to crash into a light ribbon, sending him skidding across the course. She quickly turned, hoping to keep Rinzler off of him while he was unconscious, and she was shocked when he got right to his feet, brandishing the identity disc. He's definitely Flynn's son, she thought as she sped towards him. Fearless…

Just as Rinzler was about to reach Sam, she cut him off, causing him to lose control of his cycle and skid to the ground. Opening the door to the light runner, she growled—her voice altered because of the mask she was wearing, "Get in."

When Sam just stared at her blankly—completely shell-shocked, she realized—she repeated herself, and he knew enough to listen the second time around. As soon as he got in, she took off, knowing Rinzler would recover from his spill and be after them in no time. And Clu? Clu had to be lurking somewhere, ready to strike.

The light runner going as fast as it could, she figured they were home free. All I've got to do now is blast through the wall and make the jump, she thought, smiling to herself. That was when Sam turned to her and exclaimed, "You can't just leave him behind!"

"What?" Quorra started, unable to fully believe what she was hearing. They were almost free, almost safe, and he wanted her to stop to save…With a pang, she realized that she should listen to him; he was trying to help someone, and she wasn't about to stop him. "Who?"

"A program…he saved my life," Sam replied, his voice slightly angry, as if he thought she wasn't going to listen to him. "We can't just leave him behind after that!"

"Hang on," she said softly—well aware that Flynn would probably want her to save the program that had risked his life to save his son—as she turned the light runner around and shot in the direction Sam was pointing.

But, when she saw the program Sam was talking about, she had to wonder if going to all this trouble was worth it. He wasn't moving, and his circuits were flickering…a sure sign that his deresolution was imminent. Still…Flynn had taught her to put others before herself, and she would try to save the program because she knew her mentor could probably fix him.

She was so focused on reaching the program she almost didn't notice Clu gaining on her. When she did, she told herself to relax and calmly released mines from the mine launcher in the back. She grinned when one rolled directly into Clu's path, catching under the front tire of his light cycle and causing it to flip forward, sending him catapulting through the air.

As Quorra slowed the light runner to a stop next to the injured program—glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Clu had survived the crash, hauled himself to his feet, and was clearly motioning for the Black Guards to come seize them—she opened the door for Sam. "It'll be a tight fit," she said, suppressing a small chuckle. "But you'll probably be able to fit him on your lap…"

Sam snorted—an awkward smile on his face—as he pulled the small, unresponsive program inside, maneuvering it so he ended up lying on his back on top of him. As soon as the program was in the light runner, Quorra shut the door and shot towards the wall facing the Outlands because she knew she didn't have time to waste; four of the Black Guard—and Rinzler—were speeding towards them.

Shooting forward, and activating the light ribbon, Quorra realized she was going to have to outdrive five of Clu's top warriors…and it's not a problem, she told herself. They don't know what this thing can do! She easily cut off one of the Black Guard, causing him to smash into the light ribbon and de-rezz instantly. Next, she released mines and glanced over her shoulder to see them explode, taking out the two programs at the rear.

Here we go! she thought triumphantly as she shot towards the wall, ready to fire the missiles and get out of there. As soon as she reached the wall, she shot through it—creating a large enough hole to drive through—and sped towards the jump…the only thing separating them from safety was a deep crevice between the arena and the Outlands. "You'll never make it!" Sam yelped, his eyes filled with fear, but she knew she would without any problems.

Speeding up, she jumped crevice with ease, landing with a thump on the other side. "Made it," she said sarcastically, trying to keep herself from laughing. Looking back, she saw that Rinzler had pulled up—he clearly knew as well as she did that light cycles would malfunction the moment they hit the Outlands. And, now that they were all safe—well, relatively safe, she thought as she glanced at the injured program—she figured she could introduce herself. De-rezzing her helmet, she smiled at Sam. "I'm Quorra."

"Sam," he answered, smiling sweetly back at her, clearly trying to—what was the word?—flirt with her. "It's great to meet you."

"Who's your little friend?" Quorra teased gently, even though she was concerned about the program they had rescued. He still wasn't moving, and his circuits had grown darker and had begun to flicker more often. Even though she couldn't see his face—it was hidden behind a black face shield that was cracked on the bottom—she knew he was unconscious.

"I don't know," Sam answered, glancing down at the small program a concerned look on his face. "Clu was about to run me over, and this guy comes out of nowhere on some type of plane and saves my ass…Do you think he'll make it?"

She didn't have the heart to tell him the program that had initially saved his life was probably not going to live to see another cycle…