Please read: My knowledge of the Tron universe is limited to the two movies (and what I read on the Tron Wiki). Because of this, I am hesitant to say that this is fully canon (esp. in regards to this particular scene). So, I've decided to do a full rewrite of this section because, well, this is a fanfic that is quickly diverging from Legacy. So please don't flame me telling me this is off base because I recognize that. I decided to change things slightly to make my particular story make more sense…and I'm working exclusively from the movies and not the comics (or video games). Anyway…R&R and enjoy! I love hearing what you all think…~Moore12~
Seventeen
1988
I
"Are you seeing this, man?" he asked, staring in wonder at the procession of programs—but were they programs, he didn't really know—coming out of the desolate wastelands of the Outlands. Ram, blinking in surprise, nodded, clearly as curious as he was to figure out what exactly was going on down there. Clu had his jaw dropped open, a slightly nervous look in his eyes.
Tron—as always trying to be the rational one, he almost laughed—replied hesitantly, staring at the large group clearly as amazed as the rest of them, "Yeah…they're probably just programs…"
But even then they all knew that couldn't possibly be a reasonable explanation. That large of a group of programs they had never seen before…Something was happening; something big was happening that could potentially change everything in a way he didn't even imagine.
"Come on," he said, trying to—for a reason he couldn't really explain—hide his excitement. "Let's go see what's happening."
Before he even took a step towards the light runner—motioning for Ram to get in to drive him down—Clu broke in darkly, "How are we sure it's safe to go down there? We should run a diagnostic…make sure they're not viruses…"
"Clu, do they really look like viruses?" Ram laughed in response—he was as excited as ever despite Clu's misgivings, he realized—a smirk forming on his face. "Jeez, man, is your CPU malfunctioning again? 'Cause, ya know I could fix it for ya if…"
"Alright, guys, that's enough," he interrupted before their argument distracted them from their real objective. Turning to Clu, he added, trying to soothe his program, "Clu, they're probably not viruses. I mean, that really doesn't make any sense. It'll all be alright."
Before Clu could offer another argument against going down there—which he clearly was based on that scowl on his face—Tron asked seriously, acting as if nothing was wrong at all, "Do you want Clu and I to follow in the light jets?"
That was right, he had almost forgotten Clu and Tron couldn't use their light cycles in the Outlands like Ram could use the light runner. Something about having Clu and Tron swoop down on the unsuspecting newcomers didn't sit well with him, so he shook his head. "No, that won't be necessary. Ram and I will go down and you two can wait up here."
"We'll be right there if there's a problem," Tron vowed, offering him a confident smile. "Good luck, Flynn."
Luck? Didn't Tron know he had the best luck in the world?
II
He wasn't designed to understand things like this and wasn't really sure what Flynn meant by it being a "miracle" but it was still fascinating. He stared in wonder at all of the programs—or "ISOs" as Flynn kept calling them—that had just randomly appeared out of nowhere. The very thought that was possible was enough to make his CPU protest, but what he was seeing was very much real; he couldn't deny that.
Not wanting to interfere, he quietly stood by Flynn's side and watched for danger, as usual, even though he just knew nothing was wrong. It was hard for him to pay attention to what Flynn and the apparent leaders were talking about—what was it that Flynn always says about me? right…that I "have the attention span of a flea"—so he just looked around. He quickly realized that many of the "ISOs" were staring at him, and it made him feel slightly uncomfortable. "Flynn…" he murmured, shifting to try to hide himself from their gaze to no avail.
For some reason he wasn't surprised when Flynn didn't answer him; he knew he was too caught up in conversation to be bothered and that didn't really upset him. He knew it wasn't his place to bother the User when he was "working." So, he put his head down and stared at his feet; which, for reasons he couldn't understand, made some of the ISOs standing nearby laugh. What's so funny? he wondered, feeling even more self conscious and out of place.
"I can't believe it," Flynn was saying, his voice filled with excitement. "You all weren't created by Users…you're just like people!"
Something about that statement unsettled him to his very core—wait, didn't Flynn always say us programs are like people? he wondered—but he brushed the feeling aside. Shivering, he knew everything was about to change…and all he could do was hope it was for the better.
III
He listened patiently as Clu ranted—grumbling something about how Flynn should really think before he acts, especially because they didn't know anything about those programs—but wasn't really paying much attention. From their perch, he watched as Flynn talked to one of the programs who, he figured, must be the leader. Ram was standing at his side with his head down; for a moment, he wished he was down there instead of his old friend because, well, he'd do a better job keeping Flynn secure.
"I still say we should run a diagnostic!" Clu's voice tore him abruptly from his thoughts.
"I doubt that's going to happen now," he replied calmly, well aware that Flynn was clearly thrilled by the sudden appearance of those fairly strange programs. He could read it in how he was talking—all of the needless hand movements, the huge grin he wore across his face—and he knew. Even if Clu begged for a diagnostic, he wouldn't get one. Because those clearly weren't viruses, but he couldn't quite calculate what they were.
They're not Basics, he thought, blocking out Clu's subsequent protests to try to determine what was going on. They can't be; Users create Basics…I didn't just randomly appear one day, and neither did Ram or Clu. We were all created for a reason… And since when do programs just appear out of nowhere? It just didn't compute.
Apparently everything he knew was wrong; and the thought was enough to make him cringe…
IV
This wasn't good. This wasn't right. This shouldn't be happening.
He had to stop it; all of his prompts were screaming at him, ordering him to find a way to make this…this…atrocity stop. But he couldn't do anything. The sensation of helplessness—a feeling he was finding he didn't like (more than anything he wanted to go back to being in control—washed over him. He couldn't stop what was happening, not with Tron there watching his every move, not with that irritating pest Ram down there guarding Flynn. And…he knew his User wouldn't be happy with him, even though—since it was his command, after all—he'd probably thank him for it later when he finally realized the error of his ways.
If you want perfection, Flynn, he thought bitterly, this isn't the way to get it.
And, even as he ranted at Tron who, he knew, wasn't really listening—even though a security program should be more concerned about random programs appearing out of nowhere—he started calculating what the right course of action would be. For a moment, he envied Ram; if it was one thing the actuarial program was good for, it was figuring out the most effective course of action to take. Stifling a growl, he launched into another bitter argument for running a diagnostic, hoping to maybe sway Tron's opinion of the situation, plant seeds of doubt in his CPU…
I'll appear to be giving them a chance, he thought, a smile creeping across his face. And then I'll strike when it's least expected. And then we'll be back on the right path again…
2009
I
The kid's panicking, Ram thought wryly, listening to the User yelling at Quorra, not even bothering to ask him for advice…as usual. Huffing sullenly, he wondered why Users were so often so glitching stubborn, so self-absorbed. He is his father's child, he almost laughed.
"What?" Sam turned on him—finally! Ram thought bitterly—and snarled. "Do you have any bright ideas? Do you know how we can save my dad?"
For a moment, he paused, unsure of what to really do. He had a plan—a good one in fact, one that gave them all a remarkable 75% chance of survival—but…he wasn't sure how Sam would take it. He may be just a program—and not even a good one at that, he thought sadly—but he knew he couldn't just tell the kid to leave his father behind. Even though he didn't fully understand why that was—he didn't, as Flynn had told him once when he was angry at him, have a "heart" (whatever that was)—he still knew better. So shrugging helpless, he replied, "Yeah, I've got something. But I don't think you're going to like it."
Glaring at him, Sam turned his attention back to Quorra who looked just as glitching panicked as the User did. Snickering weakly—they don't make 'em like they used to…oh, right, I'm the only program here—Ram decided not to say anything. So Quorra broke in, clearly trying to be calm, "We have to save Flynn and his disc."
"And why's that?" Sam yelled—wasn't made for practical thinking was he? Ram wondered, only slightly amused. "Is that damn disc more important than Flynn to you?"
Seeing the wounded expression on the ISO's face, Ram decided it was time to interfere and get this over with as quickly as possible. Getting up from the stool he had been sitting on, he placed himself in between the two and faced Sam. Here goes nothing, he thought cynically. "Sam, don't say Quorra doesn't care about Flynn, a'ight? 'Cause she clearly does. And…yeah…I know you're upset and everything but, in a way, the disc is more important than Flynn."
Here comes the explosion, Ram thought sadly, bracing himself to be tackled or worse. Instead, Sam just growled, "That's easy for you to say. And what the hell do you know anyway? You're just a program."
For some reason, the insult didn't sting like it used to. Because, well, he knew he was just a program…and he had learned to accept it over his cycles in confinement. In the grand scheme of things, he didn't matter…but neither did any of the Users really. Sighing, Ram continued, keeping his voice calm, "Yeah, I am just a program. But that's made me realize that some things are just…bigger than all of us. And—I know you don't want to hear this—the disc is bigger than Flynn. Because, if Clu gets it he'll be able to escape. And then it'll be the end of line for your entire world."
Shifting uncomfortably—what? was what I just said really that profound? he wondered—under Sam and Quorra's gaze, he wished somebody would just say something…anything. Finally, Quorra—still staring at him in wonder—asked the question he had assumed she would, "Wait, you said if Clu gets the disc. But…he has Flynn so doesn't that mean he has his disc?"
"Yeah," Ram muttered, hoping Sam wouldn't de-rezz him on the spot, "about that…"
II
It was the moment Clu had been waiting for. All of those cycles spent waiting, spent wondering—allowing him to stew over what had happened, allowing his rage to build—were not for nothing. He held the key to ruling both worlds which was, he knew all too well, the only way to make the system truly perfect. Because, after all, the User world that Flynn spoke so highly of was forever intertwined with the grid, locked in what was supposed to be a symbiotic relationship that was in reality only causing the system harm. Well, that all ends now, he grinned, accessing the identity disc for the first time, all too ready to learn Flynn's secrets.
What he saw when he accessed the disc was enough to make him scream. Because, what Clu saw wasn't Flynn's face staring back at him but…Ram. But it can't be, he raged, staring down at the digitalized face—that was, of course, he thought bitterly, smirking—it just can't be.
It didn't take him long to accept what he was seeing—and, because of his fury, he hurled the disc into a wall—so he yelled for Rinzler. At least I know where the disc is, he told himself, trying his best to remain calm. And at least I have Flynn…which will probably make Sam come to me and, knowing Ram, he'll follow. He would never abandon a User, the naïve glitch.
As soon as Rinzler entered the room, he started barking orders: "Rinzler, I need you to find the User—Sam Flynn—immediately."
When Rinzler didn't leave right away, Clu realized that he must be confused—after all, we did just capture Flynn which was the whole point of bringing Sam to the grid. So, he slowed down and explained, as if to a child, "A program that is with him has something that belongs to us…Flynn's disc. You find Sam, you find the program."
Issuing his typical growl, Rinzler just nodded and stalked away, leaving Clu to stew over his latest misfortune. Well, I can't just sit here and wait, he thought dryly. Time to pay my old friend a visit…
III
Looking at Clu was looking in a mirror to his past, and it was far more unsettling to do so than it once was. But, he knew now wasn't the time to sit there and philosophize about the true nature of his world, about what had caused all this to happen. "What do you want?" Flynn asked finally after a long moment of silence where he just stared at the glowering reflection of himself.
"You're not so tough now, are you?" Clu replied, clearly hiding behind false bravado. Flynn knew instantly because he was wearing the same expression he used to wear when having to talk to Lora and Alan at the same time. He would hide behind his bravado to act like what he was seeing didn't bother him, that nothing at all was wrong. And, if he knew anything about himself, he knew something was wrong and Clu was trying to hide it from him.
Grinning at his program—because he knew it would annoy him—Flynn just chuckled, "Oh, Clu, you really haven't changed, have you?"
A low growl erupting from his throat, Clu didn't say anything in response at first. When he did speak, he had regained his composure and seemed oddly smug. "You think you're so clever don't you? You thought you could outsmart me by switching discs with that stupid virus you call a program, but you failed. Rinzler's on the way to intercept them, and, trust me, he won't fail like you did."
Well, Flynn had to admit, this is an interesting development. But how could Ram have stolen my disc? It must have been when I was sleeping… Even though he didn't know how the disc mix up had occurred, he decided it would be best to take credit for it: "Wow, I never thought you'd figure it out so fast, man! I should've known better."
"You never really think before you do anything, do you, Flynn?" Clu asked coldly, looking at him like he was just a bug he was about to squash under his boot.
"I dunno, man," he said innocently in response, offering him a boyish smile. "But if I don't that probably means you don't either…"
Laughing—still as cold as ever—Clu just walked out of the room, leaving Flynn to sit in the blackness and contemplate everything that had happened once again…
Well, it's up to Ram now, he thought sadly micros later. I just hope he knows what he's doing…