Fic: The Plan [7/?]
Title: he Plan [7/?]
Fandom: Tron: Legacy
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Tron (eventually), Zuse, Gem, OCs (Loreza, Xolla, Roznal, Kex)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters/world/etc. I'm just borrowing them.
Summary: Tron, Sam, and the others come up with an attack strategy against Zuse and Gem.
Here are the super quick doodles I did to give people an idea of what my OC programs kind of look like; http://shaish.deviantart.com/art/Tron-OCs-211778255
Chapter 7
The Plan
He saw red, quite literally, walking through the door, which made him immediately tense, mind immediately jumping to Shit, we've been caught! She was followed by another circuitry color that he recognized all too well. “Green and red?!” he let out, immediately reaching back for his disc, only now realizing that Tron already had his out, one in each hand. Tron was halfway through studying them for weaknesses and varied strengths, trying to quickly formulate an attack plan when Loreza came in through the door, holding a hand up in a placating manner before anyone could start attacking.
Sam noticed the red one was smirking at him.
His fingers tightened around the disc at his side.
“What is the meaning of this?” Tron was the first to demand, not easing up from his defensive stance in the slightest, still positioned in front of Sam, like he had been in his dad's safe house.
“There's no need for that,” the Siren started, lowering her hand back to her side.
“'No need'?! Their circuits are red and green! What the hell do you mean there's 'no need'?! I mean blue and yellow I could understand but come on!” Sam let out, obviously confused and in a foul mood, not that anyone who knew what he'd been through both trips to the Grid could blame him.
Xolla had managed to edge her way out of the middle of things and towards a wall, seemingly ready to bolt at the first sign of derezz.
“They are willing to maintain silence about the User and aid you in your task,” she started calmly, “they both loath Zuse, I dare say even more than you.”
Sam eased up just slightly, raising an eyebrow, “Yeah? And why is that?” he asked, waiting for a reply.
“Because the bastard double crossed us,” the red one answered bluntly, “twice. Almost derezzed us in the process. Getting back at him is my top priority, dealing with a User like you can wait,” she ground out bitterly, sizing up Sam with judging red eyes.
“'The enemy of my enemy,' as your Users' saying seems to go,” the green one spoke up, but kept his voice quiet, expression blank and unimpressed with the current events and company.
Tron was the first to ease up out of his stance, Sam hesitating to do the same but eventually following suit, though he could tell the program's guard hadn't gone down in the least. Tron's body was tense, stiff, still positioned between Sam and the newcomers as his eyes intently looked over the two programs before glancing back at the Siren cautiously, and honestly Sam couldn't blame him since he was doing the very same thing. The two put their discs back into place on their backs, the yellow program, who's name Sam wasn't bothering with at the moment, inching her way back into the picture, even if just slightly. She's obviously not a fighter, the User noted, glancing at her briefly before returning his attention to the two new programs before him.
“'Enemy of my enemy,'” Tron repeated slowly after a moment, studying the two carefully, “I won't hesitate to forcibly remove you from the group should you try anything.” His voice had gone low again, the threat more of a promise to Sam's ears.
The red one smirked again, the green one remaining permanently un-phased.
It was now that Sam decided to really take a look at the two, eyes going over their features now that he seemed to have the time for it. The first thing he noticed was that the red circuited female was tall, as tall as he was he would have guessed, maybe even a little taller, but he wasn't about to just stroll over and compare heights with her. Her hair was an unusually bright shade of red, a stark contrast to anything and everything nearby, save for her circuitry. It was layered and flared out, the only signs of length being the two tail-like locks that trailed down to her waist over the front of her shoulders. She was wearing a full body suit like his, but at her waist was a belt-like harness, a skirt-looking attachment hanging from the belt and covering her left hip, also partly covering her leg as well.
The green one was even taller, if only by an inch or two in human height measurement. He was wearing a cloak of sorts with a variety of circuitry designs that covered a good deal of his suit, the only parts visible being the green circuitry laced armor on his forearms and shins, his gloves fingerless and boots lined with circuitry of their own. His eyes were green like the other green circuited program Sam had had to fight in the Game Arena, but his hair was a dark shade of brown, spiked out similarly to the red one's, though not as wildly, skin darker than the others, save for the Siren.
“Their names are Roznal and Kex,” the Siren started, first gesturing at the red haired female program, who only smirked at the introduction, then to the brown haired male program, who remained impassive.
“They're fighters. A virus blocker and military,” Tron concluded, the three programs by the door's eyes shifting to him. It was then that Kex moved, walking across the room steadily to stand in front of Tron, who stiffened just that much more at the unwanted proximity with the unfamiliar program, guard still up.
“It is an honor to meet you, Tron,” he said just as quietly as before, Sam's expression turning confused, Tron's turning suspicious, “I heard rumors of your skill when I was still part of the military's system. I hoped one day to meet and fight you.”
Roznal just tried not to laugh from the looks of it, but Tron's disposition changed, no longer strictly threatening but somewhat understanding, respectful, even if somewhat wary. “I see,” he heard Tron say, but he couldn't fully understand the exchange between the two programs, it's not like he'd been a fighter for over a thousand cycles, not like his companion.
“Yeah yeah, anyway,” Roznal interrupted, walking over to Kex and setting a hand on his shoulder, tightening her grip a bit before pulling him back slightly, “let's get this show on the road. I'm ready to make Zuse's empire crumble, and if that means teaming up with you two, so be it.”
Something we can agree on, Sam thought firmly to himself, eyes moving from the programs before him to the windows on the other side of the room, focusing on the Game Arena in the distance. Getting back dad's disc, he thought, here we go again.
___________________________________________
“We'll need light cycles and light jets, one for each of us,” Tron informed the Siren, eyes returning to her, “see if you can get a second of both for each program, should one get destroyed during the mission.”
“I will see what I can acquire in the time allowed,” Loreza returned, leaving them in the living quarters once again as she headed out to fulfill Tron's request.
They'd been planning for what felt like hours now, formed in a circle in the middle of the floor, the lights dimmed down as a precaution so as not to draw attention to the room. Sam decided to just keep quiet in his place next to Tron, legs crossed and forearms resting on his knees, eyes occasionally wandering from the map projection in the middle of the circle to each of the program's faces in turn as they spoke, though they always seemed to return to the program next to him. He wasn't an attack strategist or a weapon's expert, which the others seemed to be, and he couldn't gather them information like Xolla could, which was where she was at right now, instead of clinging to his side like she'd been before she left on the assignment given to her from Tron. The Grid hero didn't seem to approve of her clinging, but they “don't have the time to argue,” he'd heard Tron say in a short sigh of resignation at some point.
“Zuse's main headquarters is like Clu's,” Roznal added in, pulling Sam's attention back to the matter at hand, “It travels over the length of the entire city at timed intervals and never stays in one place for too long, presumably so it doesn't end up getting blown up like the End of Line Club did. Zuse isn't one to make the same mistake twice,” she said with an unimpressed look on her face, “He's a coward, so facing him head on isn't the best option, either. We'll have to be stealthy.”
Tron nodded in agreement, reaching over with a hand and changing the close up image on the projection to the layout of the city, letting his eyes scan over the familiar details for a moment, searching. “Does his headquarters ever near the Game Arena?” he asked, blue-gray eyes looking back up to the red haired program.
“It does, but..” Roznal trailed off, reaching over to change the image on the map projection once more, a close up of the area around the Game Arena now illuminating the circle.
“But the only time it does is closely timed with when the Recognizers return to sweep that area or to drop off stray programs for the Games,” Kex added in, voice raised and more confident than when he'd spoken earlier. He really 'shines' in these sorts of situations doesn't he, Sam thought idly, eyes still on the group, well, makes sense I guess. He is a military program after all.
“That seems to be the only opportune time to begin our assault, aside from the docking point for resupply, but it's not down long enough for us to try and get in,” Tron said a little reluctantly, going over the prior idea plans in his memory banks.
“Yes,” Kex agreed, green eyes moving up to look across at the security program, “It is the only time when he is not over a populated section of the city, and the only time when the ground Sentries are not close enough to provide immediate assistance.”
Sam's eyes shifted back to the windows of the room, focusing on the Game Arena in the distance once more before glancing up slightly at the portal's light in the view past it. I know I extended the portal's time limit, but it still feels like it will close any second. Will we really be able to get this done in time? he thought a little worriedly to himself, not realizing the search program had returned.
“I've confirmed it!” she said aloud, tone a little proud as she dropped back down to her spot next to Sam, sitting just a little too close, as was becoming a habit of hers, “Zuse will be reaching the Game Arena just before the next session of Games begin.”
The User was jerked out of his thoughts at the outburst, attention turning over to Xolla at the news she'd brought.
“Just enough time to finalize the plan,” Roznal replied, “and kick Zuse off of his high horse.” The red circuited program smirked menacingly at the thought, and Sam could practically see the gears turning in her head.
His eyes made their way back to Tron, who seemed to be in even more deep thought rather than openly relieved.
If my calculations are correct, the portal will close not too long after the time we supposedly confront Zuse and take back the disc fragment, with minor time dedicated to combat included, he thought to himself, eyes losing focus while staring at the projection map, I have to be sure to get Sam there before it closes. There has to be a way to cut down the time consumption. I will not have him end up as Flynn did.
“Will Mr. User being contributing to any part of this plan,” Roznal said a little smugly, eyes aimed directly at him, “He's been so quiet this whole time, not getting his precious hands dirty.”
Both Sam and Tron's eyes darted up at the program's words, Sam's expression turning defiant, about to give a comeback before Tron intervened.
“Sam will be fighting his share once we get inside the headquarters,” the security program replied, obviously unamused by the virus blocker's words.
“But he'll be with you, which means you'll be the one doing most of the fighting,” she retorted, “And I thought User's had some sort of special power. Can't you do anything useful besides sit there and look pretty,” she finished, looking down her nose at the subject of the discussion.
Tron was about to say something, but this time Sam interrupted, mood gone south. “What do you want me to do then? I'm not the guy that sits back and comes up with combat strategies, I'm the guy that does the crazy shit,” he snapped back, sitting up straight, “Just because I'm not throwing half-assed ideas out on a subject I know nothing about and you'd rather see me dead- derezzed, doesn't mean I'm not willing to do my part. You're going to have to try harder to goad me on.”
He didn't realize he'd risen to his feet, staring down at the red haired program across from him.
Whatever he'd just blurted out seemed to hit a circuit, however, since she rose to her feet as well at the sight of the challenge, reaching across to grab the User by the collar and tug him close to her face.
“I'd love to see you derezzed, want to see me give it a shot? I'm curious to see if Users pixelate just like the rest of us,” she said slowly, glaring down at Sam, who only glared right back. Definitely taller, Sam couldn't help thinking, even given the current situation.
Tron and Kex rose to their feet, about to intervene, Xolla carefully scooting back and out of the way of conflict again.
“I don't plan on dying today, so tough shit,” he said back just as slowly, reaching up with a hand and gripping the red circuited program's wrist, trying to pry it off of his suit.
Then something unexpected happened.
Sam's circuits shifted color, fading out from an illuminating white to a matching red.
Roznal quickly let go in response, expression turning wide eyed with surprise, Tron, Kex, and Xolla's faces following suit.
“Sam-” Tron cut off after a moment, a rather old memory file dragging itself out of a past system.
“What just-” Sam tried, raising a red circuited hand up and rotating it a bit, staring at it with equally wide eyes, “How did I- Why did it-” He couldn't seem to formulate an actual sentence.
“I've seen this before,” Tron said half distractedly after a moment, blinking once before blue-gray eyes shifted from Sam's hand to his face, “Flynn had red circuits once, when he tracked Yori and I to a Solar Sailor during his first trip to the Grid. But they changed back when..” The security program trailed off, reaching over and taking Sam's hand in his own, the red circuitry fading back to white after a moment.
“...Huh,” was all Sam could get out, watching the transition with fascination, “well that's cool.” The User's eyes found their way to Tron, grinning a bit enthusiastically, until he noticed the program was still holding his hand. “Uh..” he trailed off again, face heating up as he tried to release his grip.
Tron blinked once before noticing, releasing his hand quickly.
“..Looks like you will be useful after all, User,” Roznal cut in, a devious smirk lining her lips.
Tron's head snapped at her, expression turning disapproving as his mind quickly caught up to her thought process. “No, we are not putting Sam in that kind of unnecessary danger. There is no need,” he objected.
“You do want to get him to the portal on time, don't you?” Roznal responded smugly.
Tron flinched.
“You're not the only one who calculated the time.”
Tron's mouth opened to make a comeback, but Sam intervened. “I'll do it,” he said after a moment's thought, eyes shifting from his now white circuited hand to the two programs in disagreement.
“But Sam-”
“No,” he cut him off again, shaking his head slightly, “We need all the time we can get, and besides, I was feeling pretty useless.” He confessed, giving Tron a small, light smile, who only looked back at him with slight worry in his expression. “What do I need to do?”
Roznal's smirk widened.
Loreza returned to the living quarters, a large, silver case in hand.
__________________________________________
“Kex and Roznal will come in by light jet on the North and South sides. Stay in the clouds until you land, do not go below them or you will be seen, do not go above or the light jets' engines will fail. They do not operate consistently above the clouds' mass,” Tron instructed firmly, pointing out the paths on the map projection as he spoke, “Sam..” he trailed off briefly, “will slip in with the cargo reload when the headquarters is momentarily getting restocked on this building,” he gestured to a building on the map, “Be sure to try and follow suit with the Sentries when you are in their line of sight or passing them, they will quickly be able to tell if you are not meant to be on board if you give yourself away even by the slightest amount.” Tron's eyes and voice softened just a bit as he spoke, redirecting his eyes from Sam's face back to the map projection on the floor. “I will come in from below by light cycle.”
“Is that jump even possible?” Xolla chimed in, face full of surprise and disbelief.
“It is, but only if timed accurately,” the security program replied, eyes not straying from the map, “Once on the traveling headquarters we will have to move quickly. Only take out the Sentry and Black Guards that are immediately in your path, do not stray to take out any nearby. Our goal is to reach Zuse as soon as possible, not derezz all of the guards. Zuse and Gem are the top priority. Once we have the disc fragment, Sam and I will head for the portal. Sam will take the disc fragment back to the User world, making sure that no program here is capable of using it again.” Tron looked over all of the program's faces for a moment, sitting back once he confirmed whatever he had been looking for.
“What about the power balance?” Kex spoke up, green eyes shifting across to Tron's, “Once Zuse and Gem have been removed from the seat of power the social order will fall to ruin.”
“We will worry about that after the mission is complete,” Tron replied calmly.
Sam was watching them quietly, a tinge of something akin to guilt tightening in his chest. Do they really need a User here to keep the peace? he thought to himself, eyes focused on the ground in front of him.
“Everyone should prepare themselves. We will head out shortly,” Tron concluded. “Loreza,” he said after a moment, attention turning to the Siren seated off a little ways in one of the white chairs, “Hand out the batons,” he instructed calmly, “and please adjust Sam's helmet to match a Sentry's.” Loreza just gave a brief nod, getting up from her seat to walk over to the bar, setting the silver case on the counter and sliding a slender finger over the seam, the case clicking open shortly after.
She handed out all of the batons, somehow managing to get a hold of the amount Tron had requested, each program taking the tools with them to where they wandered, spreading out to different sections of the room. Roznal stayed close to the bar, Kex wandered off to a corner window, Xolla seemed to stay permanently fixated to Sam's general area, and Tron walked over to the center window, staring out at the view.
Sam moved over to the Siren, letting her alter his helmet from the top of the back part of his suit, which didn't seem to take much time at all.
“We'll be cutting it close, won't we,” Sam said more than asked quietly after walking over to the security program in front of the window once the Siren had finished her work, stopping to stand next to him.
“Yes,” Tron replied just as quietly, but kept his eyes on the Game Arena in the distance.
“And to think, I really only came back to find you,” Sam said a little quieter after a moment of silence, a brief, disbelieving smile making its way onto his face.
Tron looked over to him, a little surprised at the words. “..I don't understand why,” he finally said after a while, still looking at the User next to him for the answer.
“It's a really stupid reason,” he said back with a small, sheepish smile, keeping his voice down.
“What was it?”
“I had a dream.”
“A dream?”
“Yeah. Of dad. It was from when Quorra and I were in the portal and he was telling us to go and leave him behind. Except in the dream, he just kept saying your name,” Sam reached up with a hand and rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly for a moment, letting out a short and quiet laugh soon after, “I didn't figure out what he was actually saying until some employee brought up Tron.”
“Someone else from your world has been here?” Tron asked, expression quickly turning confused.
“No no,” Sam said quickly, raising a hand in the air to illustrate briefly, “the guy was talking about the old Tron arcade game. Didn't dad tell you about it?”
“Oh,” Tron let out, realization setting in, “Yes. He had mentioned it once before.”
“Great. It would've been hard to explain if he hadn't,” Sam replied with a light laugh, clearing his throat after getting a stare from the program.
“I must apologize,” Tron said after a short while, pulling Sam's attention back to him.
“What for?” he asked, expression turning curious.
“I had assumed you came back to the Grid for a different reason,” he started, eyes focused on a building, “to bring order back to the system.”
Sam straightened at the words, glancing away from the program to look back out at the view instead, that tinge of guilt from earlier resurfacing and knotting up in his chest. “..Does the Grid really need a User here?” he finally asked, eyes eventually making their way back to his companion. He was surprised to find Tron looking at him, something in his eyes making him seem older than he physically appeared.
“We once functioned on our own,” Tron started, something new in his voice, or maybe it was old, Sam couldn't tell, “But after Flynn came into our world and helped to defeat the MCP, things changed. Some tried to go back to the way things once were, but our society relies on a ruling power, a guide, and I don't believe any one program here could suffice.”
The User stared at him as he spoke, thinking over his words carefully. “What about you?” he finally asked, “I bet you'd be a great leader,” he said with a slight encouraging smile.
Tron's eyes shifted down before shaking his head slightly, a small smile of his own finding its way onto his face. “No,” he concluded, “that role is not suited to me.”
“More of a 'right hand man' type aren't you,” Sam half joked, smiling at the program.
“'Something like that',” Tron mimicked from Sam's words from an earlier conversation, returning the smile.
Sam's smile gradually dissipated, eyes returning to the Game Arena, “I don't know if I'd be good at that sort of thing,” he confessed, “It's not the same as running Encom. It's a whole society, not just a single company.”
Tron placed a hand on Sam's shoulder after a moment, pulling him out of his thoughts at the touch.
“You are more capable than you yourself are aware of, Sam” the program said with a small reassuring smile of his own, making something warm build up in the User's chest in response.
Tron released his grip from Sam's shoulder and was about to give the order to move out, but the search program quickly cut off his walking path, eyes wide and staring up at him as she spoke quietly, trying to keep her voice from reaching the others. “We have a problem,” she half whispered, leaning up slightly to try and lessen the height difference the security program had on her.
“What is it?” Tron asked, expression turning serious as he leaned down closer to her in return.
Sam was watching the exchange, moving a little closer himself to hear her words.
“There's a traitor in the group,” she half whispered quietly, glancing around briefly before continuing, “I checked and double checked one of the main information feeds I was tracking, and someone in this group definitely contacted the Castor system. Someone's been in contact with Zuse,” she said urgently, both Sam and Tron startled at the information.
“This isn't good,” Sam said almost as quietly, following Tron's eyes to each of the other programs in the room, “we have to find out who it is.”
“There's no time,” Tron said, voice quiet and urgent, “It's time to move out,” he finished louder for everyone to hear, the other program's snapping to attention and beginning to gather at the main door.
Tron's eyes scanned over the group carefully, impossibly trying to solve the matter before they departed. Who is it, he thought urgently, eyes intently focused.
Sam hesitantly made his way over to Roznal after a moment, almost unwilling to leave Tron's side after hearing Xolla's information, raising a hand up to the program.
She stared at his offered hand for a moment, reluctantly taking hold of it and squeezing it with unnecessary force, Sam's circuitry gradually shifting from white to red. “Don't screw this up,” she warned before letting go, turning back around to make her way over to the others at the door.
Sam just gave her back circuitry a look, following Tron and the others out of the room. It's show time, he thought, balling his hands into fists a little nervously at his sides, here goes nothing.
____________________________________________
“Do you think they will come?” the white haired Siren asked, reclined on a rectangular formed couch-like mass of pixels.
“I know they will,” replied the male program, sly smile widening.
“You don't seem worried,” the Siren noted idly, white eyes turning to her companion.
“Why should I be?” the male asked, twirling his cane in hand, “The object we want is coming straight to us on our own ground. A gift, if you will.”
Gem's eyes shifted back to the open view above the city, slender fingers tracing an edge of the seat's armrest. “What will become of the User?”
“I think you know,” Zuse replied curiously, walking around the seat to stand in front of the large window, arms spreading out wide, cane in hand, “'End of Line',” he mimicked with a laugh, lightning striking down in the Outlands in the distance.
(You'll have to copy/paste the link):
http://shaishda.livejournal.com/2379.html The Hunt [ Ch. 6 ] | http://shaishda.livejournal.com/2847.html Execute [ Ch. 8 ]
Fandom: Tron: Legacy
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Tron (eventually), Zuse, Gem, OCs (Loreza, Xolla, Roznal, Kex)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters/world/etc. I'm just borrowing them.
Summary: Tron, Sam, and the others come up with an attack strategy against Zuse and Gem.
Here are the super quick doodles I did to give people an idea of what my OC programs kind of look like; http://shaish.deviantart.com/art/Tron-OCs-211778255
Chapter 7
The Plan
He saw red, quite literally, walking through the door, which made him immediately tense, mind immediately jumping to Shit, we've been caught! She was followed by another circuitry color that he recognized all too well. “Green and red?!” he let out, immediately reaching back for his disc, only now realizing that Tron already had his out, one in each hand. Tron was halfway through studying them for weaknesses and varied strengths, trying to quickly formulate an attack plan when Loreza came in through the door, holding a hand up in a placating manner before anyone could start attacking.
Sam noticed the red one was smirking at him.
His fingers tightened around the disc at his side.
“What is the meaning of this?” Tron was the first to demand, not easing up from his defensive stance in the slightest, still positioned in front of Sam, like he had been in his dad's safe house.
“There's no need for that,” the Siren started, lowering her hand back to her side.
“'No need'?! Their circuits are red and green! What the hell do you mean there's 'no need'?! I mean blue and yellow I could understand but come on!” Sam let out, obviously confused and in a foul mood, not that anyone who knew what he'd been through both trips to the Grid could blame him.
Xolla had managed to edge her way out of the middle of things and towards a wall, seemingly ready to bolt at the first sign of derezz.
“They are willing to maintain silence about the User and aid you in your task,” she started calmly, “they both loath Zuse, I dare say even more than you.”
Sam eased up just slightly, raising an eyebrow, “Yeah? And why is that?” he asked, waiting for a reply.
“Because the bastard double crossed us,” the red one answered bluntly, “twice. Almost derezzed us in the process. Getting back at him is my top priority, dealing with a User like you can wait,” she ground out bitterly, sizing up Sam with judging red eyes.
“'The enemy of my enemy,' as your Users' saying seems to go,” the green one spoke up, but kept his voice quiet, expression blank and unimpressed with the current events and company.
Tron was the first to ease up out of his stance, Sam hesitating to do the same but eventually following suit, though he could tell the program's guard hadn't gone down in the least. Tron's body was tense, stiff, still positioned between Sam and the newcomers as his eyes intently looked over the two programs before glancing back at the Siren cautiously, and honestly Sam couldn't blame him since he was doing the very same thing. The two put their discs back into place on their backs, the yellow program, who's name Sam wasn't bothering with at the moment, inching her way back into the picture, even if just slightly. She's obviously not a fighter, the User noted, glancing at her briefly before returning his attention to the two new programs before him.
“'Enemy of my enemy,'” Tron repeated slowly after a moment, studying the two carefully, “I won't hesitate to forcibly remove you from the group should you try anything.” His voice had gone low again, the threat more of a promise to Sam's ears.
The red one smirked again, the green one remaining permanently un-phased.
It was now that Sam decided to really take a look at the two, eyes going over their features now that he seemed to have the time for it. The first thing he noticed was that the red circuited female was tall, as tall as he was he would have guessed, maybe even a little taller, but he wasn't about to just stroll over and compare heights with her. Her hair was an unusually bright shade of red, a stark contrast to anything and everything nearby, save for her circuitry. It was layered and flared out, the only signs of length being the two tail-like locks that trailed down to her waist over the front of her shoulders. She was wearing a full body suit like his, but at her waist was a belt-like harness, a skirt-looking attachment hanging from the belt and covering her left hip, also partly covering her leg as well.
The green one was even taller, if only by an inch or two in human height measurement. He was wearing a cloak of sorts with a variety of circuitry designs that covered a good deal of his suit, the only parts visible being the green circuitry laced armor on his forearms and shins, his gloves fingerless and boots lined with circuitry of their own. His eyes were green like the other green circuited program Sam had had to fight in the Game Arena, but his hair was a dark shade of brown, spiked out similarly to the red one's, though not as wildly, skin darker than the others, save for the Siren.
“Their names are Roznal and Kex,” the Siren started, first gesturing at the red haired female program, who only smirked at the introduction, then to the brown haired male program, who remained impassive.
“They're fighters. A virus blocker and military,” Tron concluded, the three programs by the door's eyes shifting to him. It was then that Kex moved, walking across the room steadily to stand in front of Tron, who stiffened just that much more at the unwanted proximity with the unfamiliar program, guard still up.
“It is an honor to meet you, Tron,” he said just as quietly as before, Sam's expression turning confused, Tron's turning suspicious, “I heard rumors of your skill when I was still part of the military's system. I hoped one day to meet and fight you.”
Roznal just tried not to laugh from the looks of it, but Tron's disposition changed, no longer strictly threatening but somewhat understanding, respectful, even if somewhat wary. “I see,” he heard Tron say, but he couldn't fully understand the exchange between the two programs, it's not like he'd been a fighter for over a thousand cycles, not like his companion.
“Yeah yeah, anyway,” Roznal interrupted, walking over to Kex and setting a hand on his shoulder, tightening her grip a bit before pulling him back slightly, “let's get this show on the road. I'm ready to make Zuse's empire crumble, and if that means teaming up with you two, so be it.”
Something we can agree on, Sam thought firmly to himself, eyes moving from the programs before him to the windows on the other side of the room, focusing on the Game Arena in the distance. Getting back dad's disc, he thought, here we go again.
___________________________________________
“We'll need light cycles and light jets, one for each of us,” Tron informed the Siren, eyes returning to her, “see if you can get a second of both for each program, should one get destroyed during the mission.”
“I will see what I can acquire in the time allowed,” Loreza returned, leaving them in the living quarters once again as she headed out to fulfill Tron's request.
They'd been planning for what felt like hours now, formed in a circle in the middle of the floor, the lights dimmed down as a precaution so as not to draw attention to the room. Sam decided to just keep quiet in his place next to Tron, legs crossed and forearms resting on his knees, eyes occasionally wandering from the map projection in the middle of the circle to each of the program's faces in turn as they spoke, though they always seemed to return to the program next to him. He wasn't an attack strategist or a weapon's expert, which the others seemed to be, and he couldn't gather them information like Xolla could, which was where she was at right now, instead of clinging to his side like she'd been before she left on the assignment given to her from Tron. The Grid hero didn't seem to approve of her clinging, but they “don't have the time to argue,” he'd heard Tron say in a short sigh of resignation at some point.
“Zuse's main headquarters is like Clu's,” Roznal added in, pulling Sam's attention back to the matter at hand, “It travels over the length of the entire city at timed intervals and never stays in one place for too long, presumably so it doesn't end up getting blown up like the End of Line Club did. Zuse isn't one to make the same mistake twice,” she said with an unimpressed look on her face, “He's a coward, so facing him head on isn't the best option, either. We'll have to be stealthy.”
Tron nodded in agreement, reaching over with a hand and changing the close up image on the projection to the layout of the city, letting his eyes scan over the familiar details for a moment, searching. “Does his headquarters ever near the Game Arena?” he asked, blue-gray eyes looking back up to the red haired program.
“It does, but..” Roznal trailed off, reaching over to change the image on the map projection once more, a close up of the area around the Game Arena now illuminating the circle.
“But the only time it does is closely timed with when the Recognizers return to sweep that area or to drop off stray programs for the Games,” Kex added in, voice raised and more confident than when he'd spoken earlier. He really 'shines' in these sorts of situations doesn't he, Sam thought idly, eyes still on the group, well, makes sense I guess. He is a military program after all.
“That seems to be the only opportune time to begin our assault, aside from the docking point for resupply, but it's not down long enough for us to try and get in,” Tron said a little reluctantly, going over the prior idea plans in his memory banks.
“Yes,” Kex agreed, green eyes moving up to look across at the security program, “It is the only time when he is not over a populated section of the city, and the only time when the ground Sentries are not close enough to provide immediate assistance.”
Sam's eyes shifted back to the windows of the room, focusing on the Game Arena in the distance once more before glancing up slightly at the portal's light in the view past it. I know I extended the portal's time limit, but it still feels like it will close any second. Will we really be able to get this done in time? he thought a little worriedly to himself, not realizing the search program had returned.
“I've confirmed it!” she said aloud, tone a little proud as she dropped back down to her spot next to Sam, sitting just a little too close, as was becoming a habit of hers, “Zuse will be reaching the Game Arena just before the next session of Games begin.”
The User was jerked out of his thoughts at the outburst, attention turning over to Xolla at the news she'd brought.
“Just enough time to finalize the plan,” Roznal replied, “and kick Zuse off of his high horse.” The red circuited program smirked menacingly at the thought, and Sam could practically see the gears turning in her head.
His eyes made their way back to Tron, who seemed to be in even more deep thought rather than openly relieved.
If my calculations are correct, the portal will close not too long after the time we supposedly confront Zuse and take back the disc fragment, with minor time dedicated to combat included, he thought to himself, eyes losing focus while staring at the projection map, I have to be sure to get Sam there before it closes. There has to be a way to cut down the time consumption. I will not have him end up as Flynn did.
“Will Mr. User being contributing to any part of this plan,” Roznal said a little smugly, eyes aimed directly at him, “He's been so quiet this whole time, not getting his precious hands dirty.”
Both Sam and Tron's eyes darted up at the program's words, Sam's expression turning defiant, about to give a comeback before Tron intervened.
“Sam will be fighting his share once we get inside the headquarters,” the security program replied, obviously unamused by the virus blocker's words.
“But he'll be with you, which means you'll be the one doing most of the fighting,” she retorted, “And I thought User's had some sort of special power. Can't you do anything useful besides sit there and look pretty,” she finished, looking down her nose at the subject of the discussion.
Tron was about to say something, but this time Sam interrupted, mood gone south. “What do you want me to do then? I'm not the guy that sits back and comes up with combat strategies, I'm the guy that does the crazy shit,” he snapped back, sitting up straight, “Just because I'm not throwing half-assed ideas out on a subject I know nothing about and you'd rather see me dead- derezzed, doesn't mean I'm not willing to do my part. You're going to have to try harder to goad me on.”
He didn't realize he'd risen to his feet, staring down at the red haired program across from him.
Whatever he'd just blurted out seemed to hit a circuit, however, since she rose to her feet as well at the sight of the challenge, reaching across to grab the User by the collar and tug him close to her face.
“I'd love to see you derezzed, want to see me give it a shot? I'm curious to see if Users pixelate just like the rest of us,” she said slowly, glaring down at Sam, who only glared right back. Definitely taller, Sam couldn't help thinking, even given the current situation.
Tron and Kex rose to their feet, about to intervene, Xolla carefully scooting back and out of the way of conflict again.
“I don't plan on dying today, so tough shit,” he said back just as slowly, reaching up with a hand and gripping the red circuited program's wrist, trying to pry it off of his suit.
Then something unexpected happened.
Sam's circuits shifted color, fading out from an illuminating white to a matching red.
Roznal quickly let go in response, expression turning wide eyed with surprise, Tron, Kex, and Xolla's faces following suit.
“Sam-” Tron cut off after a moment, a rather old memory file dragging itself out of a past system.
“What just-” Sam tried, raising a red circuited hand up and rotating it a bit, staring at it with equally wide eyes, “How did I- Why did it-” He couldn't seem to formulate an actual sentence.
“I've seen this before,” Tron said half distractedly after a moment, blinking once before blue-gray eyes shifted from Sam's hand to his face, “Flynn had red circuits once, when he tracked Yori and I to a Solar Sailor during his first trip to the Grid. But they changed back when..” The security program trailed off, reaching over and taking Sam's hand in his own, the red circuitry fading back to white after a moment.
“...Huh,” was all Sam could get out, watching the transition with fascination, “well that's cool.” The User's eyes found their way to Tron, grinning a bit enthusiastically, until he noticed the program was still holding his hand. “Uh..” he trailed off again, face heating up as he tried to release his grip.
Tron blinked once before noticing, releasing his hand quickly.
“..Looks like you will be useful after all, User,” Roznal cut in, a devious smirk lining her lips.
Tron's head snapped at her, expression turning disapproving as his mind quickly caught up to her thought process. “No, we are not putting Sam in that kind of unnecessary danger. There is no need,” he objected.
“You do want to get him to the portal on time, don't you?” Roznal responded smugly.
Tron flinched.
“You're not the only one who calculated the time.”
Tron's mouth opened to make a comeback, but Sam intervened. “I'll do it,” he said after a moment's thought, eyes shifting from his now white circuited hand to the two programs in disagreement.
“But Sam-”
“No,” he cut him off again, shaking his head slightly, “We need all the time we can get, and besides, I was feeling pretty useless.” He confessed, giving Tron a small, light smile, who only looked back at him with slight worry in his expression. “What do I need to do?”
Roznal's smirk widened.
Loreza returned to the living quarters, a large, silver case in hand.
__________________________________________
“Kex and Roznal will come in by light jet on the North and South sides. Stay in the clouds until you land, do not go below them or you will be seen, do not go above or the light jets' engines will fail. They do not operate consistently above the clouds' mass,” Tron instructed firmly, pointing out the paths on the map projection as he spoke, “Sam..” he trailed off briefly, “will slip in with the cargo reload when the headquarters is momentarily getting restocked on this building,” he gestured to a building on the map, “Be sure to try and follow suit with the Sentries when you are in their line of sight or passing them, they will quickly be able to tell if you are not meant to be on board if you give yourself away even by the slightest amount.” Tron's eyes and voice softened just a bit as he spoke, redirecting his eyes from Sam's face back to the map projection on the floor. “I will come in from below by light cycle.”
“Is that jump even possible?” Xolla chimed in, face full of surprise and disbelief.
“It is, but only if timed accurately,” the security program replied, eyes not straying from the map, “Once on the traveling headquarters we will have to move quickly. Only take out the Sentry and Black Guards that are immediately in your path, do not stray to take out any nearby. Our goal is to reach Zuse as soon as possible, not derezz all of the guards. Zuse and Gem are the top priority. Once we have the disc fragment, Sam and I will head for the portal. Sam will take the disc fragment back to the User world, making sure that no program here is capable of using it again.” Tron looked over all of the program's faces for a moment, sitting back once he confirmed whatever he had been looking for.
“What about the power balance?” Kex spoke up, green eyes shifting across to Tron's, “Once Zuse and Gem have been removed from the seat of power the social order will fall to ruin.”
“We will worry about that after the mission is complete,” Tron replied calmly.
Sam was watching them quietly, a tinge of something akin to guilt tightening in his chest. Do they really need a User here to keep the peace? he thought to himself, eyes focused on the ground in front of him.
“Everyone should prepare themselves. We will head out shortly,” Tron concluded. “Loreza,” he said after a moment, attention turning to the Siren seated off a little ways in one of the white chairs, “Hand out the batons,” he instructed calmly, “and please adjust Sam's helmet to match a Sentry's.” Loreza just gave a brief nod, getting up from her seat to walk over to the bar, setting the silver case on the counter and sliding a slender finger over the seam, the case clicking open shortly after.
She handed out all of the batons, somehow managing to get a hold of the amount Tron had requested, each program taking the tools with them to where they wandered, spreading out to different sections of the room. Roznal stayed close to the bar, Kex wandered off to a corner window, Xolla seemed to stay permanently fixated to Sam's general area, and Tron walked over to the center window, staring out at the view.
Sam moved over to the Siren, letting her alter his helmet from the top of the back part of his suit, which didn't seem to take much time at all.
“We'll be cutting it close, won't we,” Sam said more than asked quietly after walking over to the security program in front of the window once the Siren had finished her work, stopping to stand next to him.
“Yes,” Tron replied just as quietly, but kept his eyes on the Game Arena in the distance.
“And to think, I really only came back to find you,” Sam said a little quieter after a moment of silence, a brief, disbelieving smile making its way onto his face.
Tron looked over to him, a little surprised at the words. “..I don't understand why,” he finally said after a while, still looking at the User next to him for the answer.
“It's a really stupid reason,” he said back with a small, sheepish smile, keeping his voice down.
“What was it?”
“I had a dream.”
“A dream?”
“Yeah. Of dad. It was from when Quorra and I were in the portal and he was telling us to go and leave him behind. Except in the dream, he just kept saying your name,” Sam reached up with a hand and rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly for a moment, letting out a short and quiet laugh soon after, “I didn't figure out what he was actually saying until some employee brought up Tron.”
“Someone else from your world has been here?” Tron asked, expression quickly turning confused.
“No no,” Sam said quickly, raising a hand in the air to illustrate briefly, “the guy was talking about the old Tron arcade game. Didn't dad tell you about it?”
“Oh,” Tron let out, realization setting in, “Yes. He had mentioned it once before.”
“Great. It would've been hard to explain if he hadn't,” Sam replied with a light laugh, clearing his throat after getting a stare from the program.
“I must apologize,” Tron said after a short while, pulling Sam's attention back to him.
“What for?” he asked, expression turning curious.
“I had assumed you came back to the Grid for a different reason,” he started, eyes focused on a building, “to bring order back to the system.”
Sam straightened at the words, glancing away from the program to look back out at the view instead, that tinge of guilt from earlier resurfacing and knotting up in his chest. “..Does the Grid really need a User here?” he finally asked, eyes eventually making their way back to his companion. He was surprised to find Tron looking at him, something in his eyes making him seem older than he physically appeared.
“We once functioned on our own,” Tron started, something new in his voice, or maybe it was old, Sam couldn't tell, “But after Flynn came into our world and helped to defeat the MCP, things changed. Some tried to go back to the way things once were, but our society relies on a ruling power, a guide, and I don't believe any one program here could suffice.”
The User stared at him as he spoke, thinking over his words carefully. “What about you?” he finally asked, “I bet you'd be a great leader,” he said with a slight encouraging smile.
Tron's eyes shifted down before shaking his head slightly, a small smile of his own finding its way onto his face. “No,” he concluded, “that role is not suited to me.”
“More of a 'right hand man' type aren't you,” Sam half joked, smiling at the program.
“'Something like that',” Tron mimicked from Sam's words from an earlier conversation, returning the smile.
Sam's smile gradually dissipated, eyes returning to the Game Arena, “I don't know if I'd be good at that sort of thing,” he confessed, “It's not the same as running Encom. It's a whole society, not just a single company.”
Tron placed a hand on Sam's shoulder after a moment, pulling him out of his thoughts at the touch.
“You are more capable than you yourself are aware of, Sam” the program said with a small reassuring smile of his own, making something warm build up in the User's chest in response.
Tron released his grip from Sam's shoulder and was about to give the order to move out, but the search program quickly cut off his walking path, eyes wide and staring up at him as she spoke quietly, trying to keep her voice from reaching the others. “We have a problem,” she half whispered, leaning up slightly to try and lessen the height difference the security program had on her.
“What is it?” Tron asked, expression turning serious as he leaned down closer to her in return.
Sam was watching the exchange, moving a little closer himself to hear her words.
“There's a traitor in the group,” she half whispered quietly, glancing around briefly before continuing, “I checked and double checked one of the main information feeds I was tracking, and someone in this group definitely contacted the Castor system. Someone's been in contact with Zuse,” she said urgently, both Sam and Tron startled at the information.
“This isn't good,” Sam said almost as quietly, following Tron's eyes to each of the other programs in the room, “we have to find out who it is.”
“There's no time,” Tron said, voice quiet and urgent, “It's time to move out,” he finished louder for everyone to hear, the other program's snapping to attention and beginning to gather at the main door.
Tron's eyes scanned over the group carefully, impossibly trying to solve the matter before they departed. Who is it, he thought urgently, eyes intently focused.
Sam hesitantly made his way over to Roznal after a moment, almost unwilling to leave Tron's side after hearing Xolla's information, raising a hand up to the program.
She stared at his offered hand for a moment, reluctantly taking hold of it and squeezing it with unnecessary force, Sam's circuitry gradually shifting from white to red. “Don't screw this up,” she warned before letting go, turning back around to make her way over to the others at the door.
Sam just gave her back circuitry a look, following Tron and the others out of the room. It's show time, he thought, balling his hands into fists a little nervously at his sides, here goes nothing.
____________________________________________
“Do you think they will come?” the white haired Siren asked, reclined on a rectangular formed couch-like mass of pixels.
“I know they will,” replied the male program, sly smile widening.
“You don't seem worried,” the Siren noted idly, white eyes turning to her companion.
“Why should I be?” the male asked, twirling his cane in hand, “The object we want is coming straight to us on our own ground. A gift, if you will.”
Gem's eyes shifted back to the open view above the city, slender fingers tracing an edge of the seat's armrest. “What will become of the User?”
“I think you know,” Zuse replied curiously, walking around the seat to stand in front of the large window, arms spreading out wide, cane in hand, “'End of Line',” he mimicked with a laugh, lightning striking down in the Outlands in the distance.
(You'll have to copy/paste the link):
http://shaishda.livejournal.com/2379.html The Hunt [ Ch. 6 ] | http://shaishda.livejournal.com/2847.html Execute [ Ch. 8 ]