Tron: Adagio

By: Shadow Chaser

Author's Notes:

This story covers the entire comic, Tron: Betrayal, and flashbacks from Tron: Legacy itself. The scenarios of the game Evolution are not mentioned in here as I did not play the game. All characters are not mine, they belong to Disney.

Story:

Arena

The disc wars were always exciting, especially when the new programs wanted to challenge the veterans. Tron knew that he was one of the best veterans, but limiting oneself with just discs and batons was a disadvantage so he occasionally mixed it up. Therefore this cycle's battle was just a little different. He had left his disc and batons inactivate in all of his battles, using only his hands and legs to defeat his opponents into submission.

Truth was he wanted to test out the extra layer of armor that Ophelia had patched onto him to replace the outer layers of his own suit and what a fine patch she had given him. It had made his movements and reactions quicker than he had thought possible. His latest opponent, a young program who usually spent her time maintaining the aqueduct in Zeta Sector was slowly rolling to her feet, winded from the last round.

He could hear the crowd cheering wildly at his victory, but Tron didn't glorify in it and instead reached a hand out to help her back to her feet. She took the hand gratefully before shaking it and stepping back into platform which rose away, taking her back to the armory where she would be able to rest a bit before returning to her duties.

His platform, however, stayed where it was, and the growing roar of the crowd told him that it was the final round of this cycle's matches. He loved the arena, enjoying the revelry and entertainment he could provide for the programs who were just looking to rest and relax. He also enjoyed the physicality of it, finding it somehow soothing to the increasing frustrations he had within him. His processes and functions were running normally, but with the random gridbug attacks and Clu's increasingly Creator-like behavior regarding some functions of The Grid, he could not help but feel as if his responsibilities were being undermined and changed.

At least here, he was able to mask the frustration with joy whenever he fought and hopefully teach the other programs who wanted to fight in the arena a little extra in tactical fighting. Perhaps some of them would eventually request from Flynn to be assigned to the Guard or even to Grid defense if they fared well in the arena.

"Heard you weren't using any weapons, Tron," a jovial voice followed by the whirling sound of a platform connecting to his own made him resume his focus on his new opponent.

"Cesta, back here again? That's what, fifth time in a row?" Tron grinned, happy that the program had made it to the final round. He and Cesta had a rivalry that extended back to the early days of the arena. Though every single time they had met in the disc battles or even in the lightcycle grid Tron had beaten Cesta each time. However, at least some of those victories were hard earned, the program readily adapting to each defeat.

Cesta's responsibility was to oversee the distribution of the energy to the rest of The Grid; a simple enough of a task when one didn't know what to look for. However, Tron had been there when Flynn had created Cesta and enabled him to find simple and efficient solutions to distribute the energy without wasting a single joule. That efficiency had been translated across the arena to enable Cesta to learn quickly and adapt the most efficient way of combating his opponents.

And it gave Tron the perfect opportunity to work and improve his own skills.

In the days that Tron was not in the arena, he had heard the programs chatter about Cesta and his prowess with the disc and was glad that the program, to whom he considered a friendly rival, was adapting well. But now, in the five times they had faced off, Tron relished the chance to see what Cesta could throw at him.

"Come on, you're going to make this too easy for me!" Cesta hopped on the balls of his feet, waiting for the buzzer to start the round. The discs were mandated each time a competitor entered the platform to be on a stunning power instead of the usual derezzing setting they had out in The Grid.

Tron only grinned in response before settling himself in his ready stance. A nanocycle later, the buzzer sounded and Tron immediately rolled forward, ducking underneath Cesta's thrown disc. Coming up from the roll in a run he dashed towards Cesta before jumping high in the air to avoid the returning disc.

His momentum took him to land at Cesta's position from high above and caught the program's surprised look before he barely scrambled out of the way. Tron landed on his feet and lashed out with a swift kick, catching the program's legs and dumping him to the ground.

Just as he moved forward to strike the blow to end the match Cesta suddenly brought his disc up to attack him and Tron skipped a step back, arms up in a defensive position. The roar of the crowd grew louder recognizing that the stakes had grown as Cesta scrambled to his feet, disc held aloft in front of him.

"Not that easy to get rid of Tron," his rival grinned at him before charging at him, swinging his disc this way and that.

Tron leaned his body from side to side, dodging the blows all the while backing up. He allowed Cesta to continue to push him back towards his side of the platform hearing the distant roar of the crowd growing in a frenzied pace as they thought that perhaps he was going to be beat today. Pushing the noise aside from his audio filters, he instead concentrated on Cesta himself.

Tron flicked his eyes back and forth, keeping a strict visual guide on his own position while noting that Cesta was tiring, his rate of attack minutely slowing. The program must have learned how to conserve energy during the battles he had missed out on. But he also noted that the program was so intent on scoring a hit on him that he had forgotten to pay attention to his surroundings. That was when he acted.

Tron suddenly ducked wider than Cesta had been predicting and saw out of the corner of his eye the program's next slash go towards the back of the platform. The disc impacted the back and bounced off of it as was the nature of all of the platforms' back to return the disc to its owners, and he took advantage of the momentary surprise that lit up Cesta's face.

He lashed out with his right knee into the program's stomach, making him gasp out and fold forward. Tron then grabbed his right arm where the disc had been bouncing back and quickly disarmed him with a flick of his own wrist, eliciting a slight yelp of pain from Cesta. As soon as that was done, he let go of the program's arm and finished off with a firm smash to Cesta's chin with the heel of his palm. The program immediately dropped to the ground, and Tron lifted a boot to place it gently on the program's heaving chest, a grin on his face.

"Yield?" he asked cheerfully.

"Yeah," Cesta gulped down a breath before nodding and resting his head back on the ground.

The arena exploded in a roar of cheers that Tron could not even filter out with his audio sensors. He lifted his foot off and helped Cesta back on his feet, picking up his disc and handing it back to him. Together the two of them waved to the rest of the arena as the platform returned to the armory levels.

In the dimly lit armory Tron shook hands with Cesta and several of the other competitors who had stuck around to watch the final match before heading out of the arena and towards the End of Line club. He arrived in short time and was readily admitted. The club at this time was nearly empty, save for a few patrons here and there. A majority of them were back in the arena, revealing in the replays of the cycle's battles or preparing to watch the lightcycle grid come alive.

Tron normally would have continued to compete in the cycle's games, especially the lightcycle grid, but he wanted some semblance of peace and quiet for at least a few centicycles. Here, without the gawking patrons, he could perhaps find some time for him to decompress and run an upgrade of his own systems.

"Marvelous job Tron, bravo!" the voice of the End of Line's new proprietor greeted him as he stopped by the bar for a drink.

"Zuse," he nodded a greeting to the Iso who was manning the drinks. Pollux had been derezzed in one of the gridbug attacks at least forty cycles ago, an unfortunate victim he could not save and had blamed himself for that. But what was Pollux doing in one of the unshielded Sectors that was still under construction was still a mystery to him.

In the interim, Zuse had taken over, having been learning from Pollux before the program's untimely derezzing, and since then had added a few new additions to the club. There were two mp3 programs in a booth near Zuse's own private rooms playing beats that most of the programs seemed to enjoy.

"And what can I get for you today?" Zuse was as flamboyant as he had ever seen in an Iso, but relatively harmless.

"The usual," he shrugged and his drink was handed to him after a few nanocycles.

"If you want me to send over company?" Zuse asked, his eyes flickering over to the new programs in the corner, some occupying other visiting programs, others just hanging about, dancing to the beats. Most of them were female, but there were a couple of male ones.

"No thanks," Tron understood programs' need for companionship, but he usually wanted to drink alone, preferring the solitude. Spending time with one of Zuse's program inevitably made him think of Yori which he did not want to. He had asked Flynn to ask Yori again and had received the worst possible news he could ever process. His friend had said that they had moved the old system and all of the programs, Dumont, Yori, and even Bit, to a different server to preserve it, but in the midst of all of this, the data transfer had become corrupted.

Flynn had tried to reassure him that he was working on repairing the corrupted files, but with his security knowledge, Tron knew that there was a good chance that he would never see Yori again. He knew his friend and mentor meant well, especially since Flynn had been stricken by the news too, but he had left it at that.

That was why he preferred his solitude.

Taking his drink, he headed to his little corner at the club and sat down, downing half of the glass with one swallow. The refreshing bytes of energy coursed through him, reenergizing him as he looked out of the window of the club, towards the eastern horizon. Clouds were gathering in the sky today, perhaps a chance of a downpour or even lightning. The lightning would attract the gridbugs, so he set his passive systems to scan all Sectors in case anyone sent out an alert.

There was no beacon lit up in the east…no Flynn.

"Can I sit here?" Ophelia's voice made him turn to see her approaching him, her smile tentative, and a drink in her hand.

"Sure," he gestured to the seat across the table from him and she sat down before taking a sip of her drink. He watched as her face immediately contorted with a grimace before she swallowed her drink and felt a smile creep over his face. "What did you order?" he glanced at Zuse who had a cheeky smile on his face before looking back at her.

"Zuse said I should try what you're having," she coughed into her hand before pushing the drink slightly away from her, "I did not know an energy drink could contain that much potent bytes."

"That's what the aquifers are for. They refine the energy outputs so that programs would be able to take it in without too much trouble. Though I have been given upgrades by my User Alan-One, I still contain the hardware from the old system to process a less refined upgrade. It's actually better for my processes and systems," he explained shrugging, "I'm sorry that Zuse tricked you that way."

"No, no, it is all right," Ophelia shook her head before throwing an impish glare at Zuse's direction to which the flamboyant program feigned innocence before turning back to another patron. "I will have a little talk with him."

"I'm sure he meant no harm," Tron realized that as the Isos' leader, Ophelia had a lot of clout with the other Isos.

"Even if he did not, it is still childish to play such a trick on his own leader," she shook her head before gesturing to his half-downed drink, "it does explain why I was able to add to your code though."

"Pardon?"

"Your hands. I see my patch has served you well today," she looked pleased.

"Yes," he rotated one of his hands back and forth, flexing his fingers slightly, "they did indeed. You were watching?"

"Not in the crowd. I cannot go to the arena without attracting a lot of attention. I thought the programs there should watch the combatants, not pay attention to someone like me."

"If you want, I can create an identity subroutine that would be able to mask your signature and enable you to move through the crowds at the arena or any other public place without much notice," he offered. He did not know why he suddenly did that, but wondered if it was because he felt a bit sorry for her. She had been the first of her kind, unique even amongst the Isos because of her leadership. A little like him, he supposed, different amongst the normal programs.

"You are willing to do that for me?" she looked surprised and he nodded once again. "Why?"

"Because you should be able to enjoy The Grid itself," he replied and saw her smile return.

"Thank you, so much, Tron," she grabbed one of his hands and squeezed it, "you have done so much for me and for the other Isos…" She continued to talk, but Tron didn't really pay attention so much to her words as to her expression and gestures. He was struck at how much Ophelia at the moment reminded him starkly of Yori. Her constant enthusiasm, the politeness they both carried, even Yori had given him patches in the old system.

He should have been horrified at himself for even considering Ophelia in the same light as Yori, but for some odd reason, the process didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. Yet, he knew that Ophelia was different, unique in her own way. She was not Yori nor would she ever be her. He realized that he was still waiting, hoping for Yori to be somehow alive, waiting for her to arrive to The Grid where he could show her the wonders that he, Flynn, and Clu had built.

Suddenly he tensed as his passive senses went on full alert, detecting a gridbug attack. He looked out of the window just as a bolt of lightning flashed by and scanned the source of the attack. It was right below them, on the shaft that the elevator took to get to the End of Line. Several patrons screamed as another bolt of lightning raced across the sky, impacting an area near the elevators, sending rivets of energy in a circular pattern.

Tron snatched his hand out of Ophelia's grip and placed his other one on the wall, overriding the local protocols and shutting down the whole club, plunging it into near darkness. Only the glow of the suits they all wore illuminated the area. "Stay here!" he ordered Ophelia and looked at the other patrons, "stay put! Gridbug attack!"

Some of the patrons screamed and clutched at each other, but Tron was already on the move. Patching in a call to Clu and the others at Central Control, he said, "Gridbug attack, End of Line club. Requesting two units of flyers as back up!"

"Acknowledge Tron, they're on their way. We're receiving other attack reports now. I'll deal with the ones by the conduits," Clu replied, his voice grim.

His data feed lit up with the flyer units' data as they traveled as fast as they could from the nearest Guard tower to the End of Line club. However, Tron was already on the move, grabbing his baton and disc and activating both. He leapt out of the window, using the baton's grappling hook as an anchor as he shot down the outside part of the shaft gently, but quickly lowering him to where he pinpointed the source of the gridbug attack.

Ophelia was not Yori, but he would protect her just the same.

Author's Notes:

These are supposed to be short chapters – huh…I guess Tron likes to talk. Anyway, for those that read the comics, you'll remember Tron's words towards Giles and Ophelia regarding the "terrorist attacks" that supposedly the Isos are responsible for. That is where this relationship is headed towards. I'm just building it up and then letting the hammer drop, heavily.

I should also note that I take karate, currently 9th Kyu in Shito Ryu style as of January 2011, so most of the action sequences I carefully plan out using the knowledge I have. ^_^ It's fun that way too.