The Recognizer lifted itself into the air and moved across the land below was strangely beautiful, yet alien at the same time.

"Where are we going? Where are they taking us?" she asked the man standing next to her in the line.

"No talking. Talking is bad for you, here," he said, and then fell silent, refusing to say anything more.

A while later, the Recognizer landed. Someone in the same uniform as the soldiers earlier came up to the line of people she stood in. As he walked up to each one, he called out a word, and that person would be led away. Some appeared resigned, others in shock. One started sobbing, "no, please, no…" over and over as they led him away. As he stood in front of the man next to her; the one she had tried to talk to earlier, she heard him say, "Games." Now he was standing in front of her. He looked at her and started to speak, "Re-"

"This one is already processed," interrupted one of the soldiers from earlier. "The commander has designated her for Games."

"Really? Why would he do that?" asked the official in front of her.

"She punched him and tried to evade us," was the reply.

"Did she?" said the official, giving her a speculative look. "I'll have to watch the matches this cycle. She sounds interesting."

The guard led her off to a small room were her feet were again placed in restraints. When the door shut, small pod-like structures tucked in to alcoves of the room opened. Four stunningly beautiful women wearing what looked almost like white and gray latex with the same glowing lines—this time in blue—stepped out of the alcoves and walked in unison towards her. They circled her until they all faced her and raised a hand each. A bright light glowed at the end of the little finger on each woman's hand, making her think of laser pointers for a moment; and then they lowered their hands towards her.

"Hey!" she yelped as the glowing lights sliced her clothes off of her, leaving her standing naked and surrounded. The women seemed to ignore her as they continued to slice off her boots. One of them walked behind where she stood to retrieve what looked like a Frisbee with a hole in the center that stood on a small, raised platform.

"Another sexy fantasy ruined," she muttered to herself as the women continued to work, ignoring her. She watched as the remains of her clothes seemed to be sucked down a small opening in the floor. As she stood there, irritated, naked, and confused, she noticed a pale white glow around her neck. Where she usually wore a rounded circle collar of titanium as a necklace; there was now a glowing white ring. The only thing that appeared the same was that the small tag that hung from it still dangled in front of her throat. Where before she could feel the flowing script that etched the word 'No' into the metal, this glowing disc seemed to have small lines and circles etched into it.

"Excuse me," she said, catching the arm and finally the attention of one of the women. "What does this say?" she asked, motioning at the disc hanging at her throat.

"It's binary. It says, 'No'," the woman replied. "You should not move so much. You are slowing down processing and armor application."

"Armor application?" she said, confused until she realized that the same black substance that made up the soldiers clothes appeared to be crawling up her legs. The sensation was not painful, but distinctly odd. As she stood there, it flowed up her body, creating clothing that covered her like the soldiers'. The women continued to move around her; now coming back towards her grasping oddly- shaped pieces in their hands. They began attaching the pieces to the suit that now covered her from the neck down. Soon, she appeared to have greaves, bracers, chest, and thigh armor attached to her. The woman standing behind her moved forward now, a shape in the corner of her eye. She felt a shock as the woman placed a disc on her back. It seemed to have some sort of holder or dock to keep it in place; because the woman moved her hands and twisted the disc in her back. Another shock went through her at this move. She was only partially paying attention to the voice telling her that 'loss of disc is cause for termination. All personal data is kept on your disc..." There must have been more; however, she hadn't been paying attention to it while feeling like she'd just tapped a bug zapper. White lines now glowed on her suit.

"Program will now proceed to Games," one of the women said. The women stepped backwards into the alcoves and pods that they had come from, the pods closing over them until they appeared as they had earlier. The restraints on her feet were released with a small 'click' of sound. Before her, another door on the far side of the room slid open.

"No way, buddy" she said under her breath. "Not going anywhere 'til I know what's going on first."

As if in response to her plan, the floor shocked her.

"Crap!" she yelled, jumping a step away. The floor shocked her again. Again she jumped, yelling at the shock. Another shock came quickly.

"Okay, okay, I get it," she said, heading towards the doorway. "Whoever is doing this…you're a dick!"

Once she passed through the doorway, the door slid closed behind her, effectively locking her in some sort of glass- or plexi- walled elevator. It took her to a court or arena of some sort. A person clad in a black, armored suit similar to what she wore stood on the other side of the arena. It was impossible for her too tell a gender in the suit that they wore.

"Okay, what now," she wondered. She didn't have to wonder long, as the figure on the other side reached onto its' back and pulled off the disc attached there. She had just enough time to think- These things come off?-when a voice over a loudspeaker said, "Combatants 13 and 14: Disc Wars." The figure on the other side of the arena flung his disc at her like a Frisbee. Deciding that she had been hit enough for one night, she ducked. The disc whined over her head and rebounded off of the wall behind her, striking sparks and gouging a line in the wall as it did so.

"Hey, be careful. You could hurt someone like that!" she yelled at the figure on the other side of the room. Unfortunately for them, her yell distracted them momentarily as their disc came whirring back towards them. She watched, horrified, and the disc carved a gouge across the figure's chest as they tried to catch their disc. Light spilled from the gash, as with a sharp cry their body broke apart into small cubes that tumbled to the floor and began to disappear.

The voice came over the loudspeaker again. "Combatant 13: winner. Combatant 14: deresolution. Combatant 13 versus Combatant 9. Begin."

With a feeling of shock she realized that another figure had entered the arena and was already running towards her.

"Oh, no," she breathed, and then they were there; swinging their disc at her like some sort of knife or blade. She leaned back, barely evading the disc as it swung at her. For whatever reason, this opponent didn't try to throw their disc. They kept trying to slash at her with it. She rolled backwards in a somersault and reached for the disc on her back, inwardly thanking the friends that had taught her some basic tumbling, self-defense, and the beginnings of knife-fighting the year before. Slashing at the figure before her, she managed to get them to take a step back; keeping herself from being pinned against the wall.

"Look, I don't want to fight you!" she yelled at them. "Let's just stop trying to kill each other, okay?" The only response from the figure was a renewed assault. She aimed a blow at their head, causing them to flinch back. In the second that their reaction bought her, she ran as fast as she could away from them.

"We can still stop fighting!" she yelled over her shoulder, trying to get as far away as the arena allowed. The steady but cautious advance of the other was their only reply. Almost in tears, she pleaded, "Please, stop." A voice answered her, tired and resigned.

"We can't. There's no other way out."

She flung her disc at them, hoping that her aim was true. It struck them in the side, the edge of the disc burying itself just under their ribs. She watched numbly as they fell apart into tiny cubes and disappeared like the first fighter had. She had killed them. The first fighter's death may have been an accident, but she had just killed someone. She hadn't known their name or even seen their face until a few moments ago.

Enough was enough. She was through with these 'games'. She was getting out of here. She went and waited by the door that the last combatant had come from. The voice overhead spoke again.

"Combatant 13: winner. Combatant 9: deresolution. Next match: Combatant 13 versus Combatant 4."

She waited until the door in front of her slid open to admit her next opponent. When the door had opened half-way, she reached in and grabbed the fighter standing on the other side and pulled them to the ground and herself through the doorway just as it slid shut. She started down the short hallway towards the door that stood at the end. She would just keep going through doors until she got out. The door at the end of the hall slid open to reveal a darkened space beyond it. Quickly, she slipped in. As the door slid closed behind her, the lights came on, showing her to be in a larger arena. Overhead, the voice spoke again.

"Illegal action by Combatant 13. Final combat. Combatant 13 versus Rinzler."

A dull roaring sound began building; and she realized that the crowds watching from the other side of the arena walls were cheering and chanting. Some were saying, "Rinzler", and others, "derezz". Neither sounded very comforting to her at the moment. She looked around for her new opponent.

A tall, well-built figure in black strode through a door on the other side of the arena. He moved confidently, with a predator's easy grace towards the starting area. 'This must be the "Rinzler" whose name the crowd was chanting,' she thought. Unlike the other people she had seen, he had only a few lines and small squares of light on this suit. Reaching behind him, he brought his disc forward and then split it into two discs. He moved swiftly, a disc held in each hand, crouching with one held higher behind him. She recognized the stance as one that would allow him to block or strike with either hand.

'Crap,' she thought to herself. 'This guy's gonna kill me. I need a beat that I can move to if I'm going to have any kind of a chance.'

As if on cue, she could hear Prodigy's 'Smack my Bitch Up' begin playing. She took a deep breath, and pulled the disc from her back. "Begin final round," said the overhead voice.

'Time to find out how well I learned, guys,' she thought, and then HE was there; swinging his discs almost faster than she could block them. She flipped backwards, slicing at him as she did so, causing him to take a step back.

Above the arena, a bored figure lounged, watching both fighters in action. The observer reached for a pair of small metallic balls and began to revolve them in their hand. After a minute of watching the action below, they reversed the direction of the balls.

In the arena, a soft alarm sounded as an arrow in the center of the arena began to change the direction it was pointing. Rinzler's helmet turned towards the arrow, and then he broke away; running towards the far wall. 'I know I'm not that good. What's going o—"the thought was cut off suddenly as up became down, down became up, and she slammed into the ceiling that had just become the floor. Rolling quickly, she managed to avoid Rinzler; who landed, cat-like, striking the floor where she had been lying just a moment before. Again, he attacked, and again she managed to barely block him. With every blow and strike that she blocked though, she could feel all of the previous blows, strikes, punches, and shocks taking their toll. She was tiring. She could feel it, she could tell by how she was just a little slower each time. And, she noticed with dismay, he could tell, too. The sound of the buzzer barely registered until she saw Rinzler running towards the wall again. She tried to backflip as he leapt; hoping to land on her feet this time. She heard her friend's voice in her head; reminding her that sometimes, the best attack is the most unexpected.

She landed on her feet, staggering and going to one knee as she tried to keep her balance. Ripping her helmet off her head, she looked up as Rinzler came leaping down towards her. She ran and jumped up towards him as he descended; swinging her helmet as hard as she could to connect with his head.

Now Rinzler staggered as the blow knocked him back. The roar from the crowd was almost deafening in her ears, but she didn't hear it. All she heard was the beat she moved to as she attacked again, this time with her disc.

Dodging her disc, Rinzler backhanded his left disc at her; slicing her cheekbone under her right eye. She didn't even feel the thin, burning line on her face as the blood started to flow. She swung her disc again, trying to catch him off-guard for just a moment. Less than a second later, she slammed into the ground as Rinzler leg-swept her feet out from under her. He knelt, straddling her, his foot on her left arm as her hand clutched her disc. She glared up at him as he loomed over her; a disc at her throat, the other raised high and slightly behind him, ready to slice down and into her at any moment. She glared up at him and then…

Rinzler sometimes felt that the only time he was truly free was in the Games arena. He was the final champion, the one that only the best would face. The chance for a challenge still drew him, gave him the opportunity to use his skills. Disappointingly, there wasn't much need for his skills to win, anymore. He found himself using them instead to draw the matches out longer. That in itself was another disappointment. Most programs gave up when they saw him standing there. Despair would be written all over them at the first sound of his growl. Unfortunately for them, their despair irritated him; and irritation always seemed to make that damaged, growling sound that was what they would hear instead of a voice even louder. He entered the arena upon hearing that a combatant had made an illegal action in the Games. Failure to follow the rules of the game only meant that you faced Rinzler sooner rather than later.

He strode into the arena and took his stance. The program standing across from him was slight, small, and obviously female. She was short. Her head would most likely come up only as far as his chin, if that. Strong legs and full hips were graced with a small waist and small, high breasts. He would have ignored all of this except for her eyes. Oddly-colored, they met his unflinchingly from behind her visor without a trace of the usual despair. Determination was there in large amounts, a good bit of anger, and a little fear. But absolute resolve, not despair, was in those oddly-colored eyes. Whoever this program was, this match was likely to be the most interesting one he had had in quite a while.

"Begin combat," came the command from overhead. Time to find out what this program was made of.

He attacked, slicing at her with his discs. To his surprise, she managed to block his blows. He continued to strike at her, forcing her to spend energy and strength blocking him. She flipped backward, slicing at him with her disc as she did so. Shocked, he took a step back, now having to block her blow towards him. He had often baffled and frustrated his opponents before by flipping and using other acrobatic maneuvers in combat, but had never had a program do so to him before. Rinzler heard the alarm sound, warning of a gravity change, and ran towards the wall after glancing at the arrow showing which direction the change take.

He looked over his shoulder at the female program in time to see her slam into what was now the floor. He leapt off of the wall, aiming himself at the floor where she lay.

As though she sensed him coming, she rolled to the side, barely avoiding him as he landed. She was on her feet and blocking his blows less than a picocycle later. But she was tiring. The more blows he forced her to block, the slower she was at blocking them. He could see the unhappiness in her eyes as she realized that he knew that she was slowing.

The gravity alarm sounded again, the buzzer signaling Rinzler to prepare for the gravity change. He ran and leapt up the wall towards the ceiling. He could see out of the corner of his eye that the female program had done a backflip, trying to orient herself to the change. She caught on quickly. He saw her stagger as she landed. Rinzler watched her as she ripped off her helmet with one hand and held it as he fell towards her, ready to take her down. Unexpectedly, SHE leapt towards HIM. Swinging her helmet with what must have been all of her strength, she struck Rinzler in the head.

Rinzler staggered as the shock of the blow went through his head; dazing him and knocking him off-balance for a moment. The program swung her disc at him, attacking again. No program had ever done this before, or come as close as her to injuring him seriously in all his time in the Games.

Angry now, he dodged her disc and swung his left disc backhanded at her face. He thought that he had struck her, but must have somehow missed. Instead of derezzing, the program swung at him again. Ducking her disc a second time, Rinzler leg-swept her; knocking her off her feet and sending her to the ground. Kneeling, he straddled her body; his foot on her left arm where she clutched at her disc. Over the disc he held at her throat, its spinning edge ready to slice into her, another disc raised to be buried in her body at any moment; and still anger, not despair, in those strange eyes. And then…

She punched him. Swung her fist as hard as she could; and punched him just under his raised arm in his side where his armor left him unprotected. She heard his pained grunt; and expected him to kill her right then. Instead, a strangely growling voice softly said, "User," in a tone almost of wonder. Rinzler grabbed her arm and pulled her upright. He turned and faced what looked like a stadium box where a few shadowy figures moved. A voice came over the loudspeaker.

"Identify your designation, program."

'Screw that, buddy,' she thought angrily. 'I'm not telling anyone who just put me through this anything about myself.'

"No!" she shouted up at the box.

A figure with thick lines of bright golden-yellow light running along it moved into view.

"Identify!" thundered a voice.

"No designation given!" she yelled back. 'Try that one on, jerks,' she thought, feeling a little smug at their evident irritation, even knowing that antagonizing whoever was in charge here was probably not the smartest thing that she could have done.

"Bring her to me," came the second voice again.

Rinzler took her by the arm and led her away.

As he led her away, Rinzler's memory played back what had just happened. He had been ready to derezz the only program to be defiant to the very end. While he enjoyed the challenge of the Games, he hated that his programming required the deresolution of the defeated programs. The look in her eyes that said as clearly as words, that trapped and beaten as she was she still had not given up, had given him pause. He had wondered for a moment if she was an ISO. She had the white circuitry, and with her erratic actions and those eyes… Rinzler had never seen eyes like hers before.

And then she had punched him! Trapped, about to derezz, disarmed, and she was still trying to fight! He had almost followed his programming and reacted to the attack by derezzing her. All attacks were to be returned, after all; until the attacker surrendered or was derezzed. Almost, but for the shine of red on her face. ISOs and Basics didn't bleed when injured. Only one thing in his memory files had ever bled. Flynn. She wasn't a program.

"User."

Rinzler had heard the wonder and surprise in his own voice. Flynn was the only User to ever enter the Grid or his old system. And she was not Flynn. Who was she?

He had grabbed her arm and pulled her up to stand slightly in front of him; facing the command box. He heard the voice of Jarvis, the system administrator's assistant program speak.

"Identify your designation, program."

'She's not a program, you idiot,' Rinzler had thought. 'Take a good look at her.'

The User next to him responded by shouting back "No!" to the demand for a designation.

He watched as another program came into view above them. Their voice thundered, amplified through the arena.

"Identify!"

Ah, no program for him. HE had realized that she was different.

This time the User yelled back, "No designation given!" Clever. Either she didn't have a name to give, or she was still refusing to give it. There was no way to tell which, with that answer. All this, and still defiant.

He heard the order given.

Direct orders had to be followed. Rinzler would bring her.

She glanced at the tall figure next to her as he led the way down a hallway. He was half-guiding, half-leading her as he held her arm firmly and steered her as they walked. An odd, slightly distorted growling sound came from him as he walked. While he wasn't hurting her arm or dragging her after him; the grip on her arm made sure that she knew he wasn't going to let her escape him.

He confused her. That was all there was to it. One moment, he was about to kill her, and the next, he had stopped and was helping her up. Alright, so he pulled her up. After punching him, she had thought that the best she would get would be a quick death. And then he looked at her and just…stopped. At least, she thought he had looked at her. With that black helmet of his, it was impossible to tell. She wished she could see his eyes. That might tell her something. Why did he say 'user', anyway? Why did people keep calling her 'program'? Who was this Rinzler?

He led her into a large room. The same golden-yellow-lit figure in black sat lounging on what she could only think of as a throne. Oh, sure, no gold and not decorated, but she knew a throne when she saw one. The lounging figure stood up, his long coat swinging almost cape-like around him. She watched warily as his black helmet retracted into the collar of his cloak to show a smiling man that appeared to be in his late thirties, maybe early forties, looking at her. With his thick, blonde hair and bright blue eyes, that friendly smile just seemed to radiate a cheerful personality and harmlessness. So, why did she absolutely not trust him? So far, he was the only one who hadn't done something unpleasant to her.

"Well," the smiling man said. "Let's see what we've got here. Rinzler, her disc." He held out his hand, waiting.

Rinzler stepped behind her, while more of the guards continued to watch her. She felt his hands on the disc on her back. He gave it a slight twist and with a very faint 'click', that she almost felt rather than heard, lifted it away from her in his hands; handing it over to the smiling man before her with a slight bow of his head.

The smiling man took the disc in his gloved hands and touched something along one of the sides. What looked like a holographic display of her head appeared floating above the disc. He made an 'hhmm' noise and seemed to be looking for something. Or maybe it was at something it was at something. She hated that she really had no idea what he was doing.

He handed the disc back to Rinzler. "Very interesting. This one's rare, folks. Very rare indeed. Rinzler, take our guest to a room where she can rest. Take care of whatever she needs. I'll see to her myself, later." He started to turn away.

"Wait," she said. "Who are you? What's going on?"

"My name is CLU," he told her, still smiling as he turned his attention back to her. "As far as what is 'going on', you're my guest for the moment."

"Your guest, huh? So, CLU does that mean that you are the one in charge here?" she asked.

"I'm the system administrator for the Grid; so yes, I am the one in charge," he told her.

"Then I want to tell you; you're a dick. And I've had more than enough of your hospitality to last me the rest of my life, I think," she said, bluntly. "So, how about I just go home? Seems like an idea that works for me…."

CLU gave an odd laugh and shook his head. "No," he said. "That's not going to work. Not in your case. You will be enjoying my hospitality for a while longer. Rinzler will see to it that you do." He motioned to Rinzler; who took her by the arm again and led her away.

A/N-I know this is not my best work. I wrote this almost a year before 'Silent Partner'. I do expect the story to improve as it goes on, and hope you find that to be true as well.

Song List: 'Smack My Bitch Up' by Prodigy