Background: Clu never staged a coup; reason unspecified. He's not mentioned in the fic. He could be derezzed for all I know.

Tron walked through Argon on the way to see Abel pensively. He could take a lightcycle, or a lightjet, or even a public transport, but sometimes he liked to see the world from the perspective of a program whose name was not also his job title.
Flynn meant well, of course, but having the capital city bear his name was really more of a pain than a gift. There were times that he simply wanted to be another program; an anonymous face in the crowd of digital life teeming through the city. To that end, he had his mask up and his signature tetramino was unlit.
He admired the lights and the architecture of the buildings; Argon was a city built mostly be programs, so it didn't showcase the same sweeping vistas that Tron City did (Users, he hated that name).
Argon instead found beauty in organization; in the efficiency of its sweeping information highways and the interlocking structure of the buildings. The varied circuit lights that glowed everywhere reflected off of the polished surfaces in a myriad of color that Flynn had once said was reminiscent of a rainbow.
Tron's musings were interrupted by a disc rocketing toward his head. He immediately dodged it and activated his own disc, scanning the area for immediate enemies. Did a virus find him while he was in disguise?
He followed the disc back to the hand of its program, and was surprised to find that it was barely out of beta. The young male-designate was running toward him, with helmet retracted, and shouting what appeared to be apologies. His skin was light, with dark eyes and hair.
"Sorry! The shields around the arena glitched!"
The beta reached him, and immediately started apologizing.
"I'm really sorry! I was trying to bounce my disc on the arena wall but the shield glitched and let it out! Are you alright?!"
Tron lowered his disc, but still kept it activated warily. He'd had stranger assasination attempts.
The beta reached out his hand in a handshake and at the same time appeared to be trying to scan Tron's rather featureless armor for injuries. It was only then that he noticed the lit disc held loosely in Tron's hand.
"Whoa!"
He took a step back and put his hands up. Tron decided that he was probably not a threat; he deactivated his disc and returned it to his port.
He held out his own hand, trying to calm the excitable young program down.
"My apologies. You startled me."
"I'll say! My name's Beck, I was playing Disc Wars with my friends."
Tron himself had played Disc Wars with the other security programs for practice; he had heard that the game was spreading as a leisure activity, but this was the first he had seen of it.
Beck pointed to the arena nearby, which several other betas were approaching from.
"Are you any good?" Tron couldn't resist asking.
One of the approaching betas laughed.
"This gridbug," said the beta with darker skin and a white stripe in his black hair, "beats me five out of eight times. But I'll get better!"
The 'gridbug' laughed right back.
"In your dreams, Bhodi. This is Bhodi, by the way, and this is Mara and Zed. We're mechanics at Able's garage!"
Able did have a habit of taking betas as workers. The program couldn't seem to help himself, he was always surrounded by young voices. It wasn't uncommon for them to leave as they got older, to travel the Grid, and there was hardly a mechanic's garage in any city of the Grid that didn't have one of Able's programs in it.
Tron made a snap decision. It had been a while since he had talked to a program that didn't know who he was, and treated like a program and not a hero. He rather liked this group, and their excitement.
And their choice of game. He liked to play Disc Wars as well.
"I'm Rinz," he introduced himself.
Rinz a pseudonym of his that he used when he was taking these undercover walks.
"And don't worry, I enjoy a good Disc War myself, no harm done." He let his smile leak into his voice.
The betas laughed delightedly.
"We saw you react from here! Your reflexes are amazing!" The female-designate, Mara, exclaimed.
"I'm decent, I will admit it, but 'amazing' may be exaggerating. There are more skilled programs," Tron admitted.
Anon, for example, was much faster on the draw than Tron, but he had less accuracy.
The betas, however, were having none of it.
"You must be nearly as good as Tron!" The one introduced as Zed exclaimed.
Oh, if only the young program knew.
"I wouldn't say that," he replied lightly, "I haven't played Disc Wars in a while."
He hadn't had time to practice a good Disc War with Anon and the rest of his team in quite a long time. He had been too busy. The betas, however, seemed to treat this revelation with shock and horror.
They must still be at the stage where they spent most of their time at the arena; they couldn't fathom not going to practice at the very least, if not play a game.
"What? Why?" Beck cried.
"I've been busy," Tron replied.
It was true. He'd been running all over the grid on errands lately, and most of his friends had been doing the same. Flynn was planning something big, and they were preparing.
The four programs in front of him shared a look, and then Mara stepped slightly forward.
"You could play with us!" She offered brightly.
"It'd be fun!" Bohdi cajoled.
"You'd get practice!" Beck added.
"Come on!" Zed offered.
All spoke at the same time. It had been a while since Tron had been around betas. Had he ever been that young?
The betas were all looking at him with hopeful expressions. He believed that Flynn would have referred to their technique as 'puppy dog eyes.' He simply called it 'fighting dirty.' That look reminded him so much of Ram that it hurt.
"All right," he sighed.
He didn't have to be at Able's for a long while, and they'd probably want him to go after he beat him at the games a few times.

They did not want him to leave. He had beaten them all, soundly, in at least five separate games each (seven for Beck. That beta was determined to win, though his skills didn't back him up just yet) and they still wanted him to stay with them, this time to teach them his moves.
He obliged, for a while, and demonstrated some of the ideas of basic security training, but finally made his excuses.
"I have business to attend to," he told them.
They nodded somewhat sadly; many programs couldn't spare much leisure time in these busy cycles.
"But," he added, as a thought came to him, "when I am in Argon on business, I will come to the garage and see if we can play a game or two."
The betas all nodded at him eagerly. With exuberant farewell, he left them at the arena.
In the corner of his eye, he saw Beck practicing one of the moves he had shown them. The young beta took to it much more naturally than most mechanics did.

After that, whenever he was in Argon, he stopped by the garage to see if the betas were available for a game. Most times, at least one was. Tron began to look forward to his visits to the city. He enjoyed being anonymous, to a certain extent.
This was the longest he had gone by Rinz to any given program; none of the betas knew who he really was. They thought he was just a security program who travelled around the Grid, and treated him like any other program, albeit one they all looked up to.
It was so much nicer than the pseudo-worship he often received when he wore the tetramino. While he would never admit it, the adoration made him deeply uncomfortable.
While Tron did like all of the young programs, he would admit that he had a particular fondness for Beck. The young program grasped the principles of disc combat much faster than his fellows. He also seemed to enjoy 'Rinz's' company; he would switch shifts with another mechanic to make sure he could play a game.
Beck had actually beat him once, a feat regarded by all of the betas to be a great achievement.
Tron had been working for much longer than accustomed; he hadn't rested for two cycles. As a result, he was just enough slower for Beck to score a vital point on his armor.
The rest of the betas, who had been watching by the sidelines, burst into cheers.
Beck himself, however, simply looked at Tron consideringly.
"You're slow," he noted, "Are you feeling alright?"
Slowness in a program could be a sign of error buildup, but this wasn't a result of that.
"I'm simply tired, I haven't rested in a while," he replied.
Zed looked up.
"Then we can loan you a bunk!" He offered.
Beck and Bhodi both agreed.
"I'm on shift next," Beck added,
"So I won't be using mine anyway. You'll be able to get a nice long rest if you borrow mine."
"I will be fine. I can rest on the transport," he offered.
That was a lie. His monitor programming prevented him from resting well in public; too many unknowns.
"But you'll rest better in a berth," Mara insisted.
They were looking at him with that fragged hopeful expression again. Why couldn't Alan_1 have made him less vulnerable to the 'puppy dog eyes' technique?
"Alright," he gave in.
The young programs immediately began whispering among themselves. In short order, they seemed to plan an operation that his security team would envy. Mara would distract Able while the rest of the young Betas would sneak him in through the service entrance in a mechanic's trolley.
Why he couldn't walk in the front door, he didn't know. He knew that Able offered beds to down-on-their luck programs sometimes, and he wouldn't turn away a friend.
When they reached the garage, the plan was executed. Mara went to talk to Able about the number of lightcycles they had repaired over the last shift, while the boys located a suitable trolley. The plan was just for Tron to sit on the trolley, with his circuit-lines dim, to blend in with the junk that was already there.
The plan worked to perfection before Able turned around at precisely the wrong time while talking with Mara and caught sight of Tron.
And what a sight it must have been, Tron mused, the Hero of the Grid, helmet up and tetramino dark, being toted along in a cart like so much junk code. To Able's credit, he did not react beside widening his eyes a bit.
Able had the patience of a User saint to put up with beta antics.
Tron was amused as Mara rejoined them outside the sleeping berths. The betas celebrated a competed operation with enthusiasm that his security team would also envy, and then shuffled Tron off to Beck's bunk.
He laid down, shut down his subroutines, and knew no more for quite some time.

When he woke, several millicycles had passed and no one else was nearby.
He got up and closed the berth, and went to find Able.
The other program was in his office.
"Hello. What was that?" Able asked immediately.
Tron gave a rueful grin.
"Your mechanics have made friends with my undercover persona," he replied.
Able nodded as if that explained everything. It might have, to him.
Able did know that Tron occasionally liked to not be center of attention, and would conceal his identity in the streets.
"You know, usually it's just lost companion Bits they try to sneak to the bunks," he muttered, "Or the occasional kidnap-adoption. Don't ask."
Tron did not ask. He was, however, curious. It must have shown in his body language, though, because Able sighed.
"How do you think I've accumulated this many betas? After a while, the population is self-maintaining."
That made a startling amount of sense. Betas tended to travel in packs.
"So they don't know who you are. How'd you meet?" Able asked.
Tron gave an abbreviated version of their meeting, and Able laughed.
"It's probably a good thing for you, Tron, to have someplace to relax. I'd tell them eventually, but you don't have to right now. It makes sense, though, they talk about Rinz sometimes, and I was wondering why I never saw him."
"Well, now you've seen him," Tron deadpanned.
"The betas are in good hands with you, Tron. Just don't get dragged into too many antics, you hear? Junk code is not a good look on you."
"Speaking of, why did they try to sneak me in? You give berths to others all the time."
"It's more the achievement than anything I think. They once snuck an entire lightjet past me and assembled it in my quarters, so now I pay more attention when they're pushing large carts.
"Also, it's traditional for kidnap-adoption. Congrats, Tron, you're now part of the family."
"...What?"
"Betas are interesting programs, Tron. Prepare yourself for quite the ride."

Several more cycles came and went, and no one was able to defeat Tron again.
Not for lack of trying, though.
It was a fairly ordinary day in Argon when Tron was facing off against Beck, with Bhodi lined up in the next slot. However, the game flew to a halt as a program dashed into the center of the ring; it was Anon, Tron recognized, and Flynn himself was right behind him.
The betas immediately ran to stand in a group. They didn't know what was going on, and safety in numbers was a default reaction for many programs.
Anon skidded to a stop right in front of him.
"Tron, where've you been?!" He yelped.
Anon could talk. It's just that no one ever gave him the chance; the poor program was always interrupted. When he was given the chance, he could talk a program's ear off.
Tron looked over to the huddle of betas on the other end of the arena.
"I was playing Disc Wars with some friends," he answered, and watched the young program's faces turn to shock.
Except for Bhodi. He looked less surprised and more vindicated.
"I told you you were as good as Tron!"
Good old Bhodi. The beta was always right; it was just a matter of how you defined 'right.'
Mara's eyes were as wide as he had ever seen them, and Zed and Beck were shocked.
Tron sighed, and derezzed his helmet. He also let his tetramino light again, from where it had been dark below his throat.
"I am taking a rest, Flynn. You don't need me for a cycle yet," he murmured.
He had checked when he was needed back, and he had enough time for at least three more games plus the time to take public transport back to Tron City (Users, he still hated that name).
Flynn laughed.
"Tron, buddy, remember when I told you that I wanted to meet with you later?"
"I need some time to myself, Flynn. It's not healthy for a program to work all the time," Tron reminded him.
Flynn looked sheepish. Anon shook his head in mock disapproval; he had always joked more easily with the creator. Tron turned to him.
"And you! I told you I was taking some downtime in Argon!"
Anon shrugged sheepishly, hiding mostly behind his ever-present helmet.
"I was curious. And Flynn asked."
The betas had come a little closer, their shock replaced mostly by awe.
Tron hated that awe. He liked the little mischief-makers, and he didn't want them of all programs treating him like a User.
He needn't have worried.
"Wow! I beat Tron!" Beck cheered.
Anon choked on his helmet.
"What?!" He screeched.
It had been Anon's personal mission for gigacycles to beat Tron at Disc Wars. He'd not succeeded yet.
"I was tired," Tron deadpanned, "Flynn had run me nonstop for two cycles before that."
Mara was the one to screech this time.
"And you didn't rest!?" She demanded. She looked about to whack him on the back of the head like she would Beck or Zed when they said something stupid.
Tron had the irrational urge to back away, but then she turned to Flynn.
"And what were you thinking, giving him that much work. Programs need rest!" She scolded.
Flynn looked at her like she had declared herself to be a companion Bit. Anon started laughing.
"I like her!" He chuckled.
Mara abruptly realized she had scolded both the Hero of the Grid and the Creator like betas and when an odd shade of white. She opened her mouth and closed it a little bit, still appalled at her manners.
Tron held up his hand, to forestall anything she might have said.
"I know, Mara, don't apologize, you're right. I should have rested, but I played Disc Wars anyway. I'm used to running on little rest, but I should have paid attention. And," he dropped his voice to a stage whisper, "Flynn needs to be talked down to every once in a while or his ego gets too big."
The Creator of the Grid looked offended.
Anon nodded.
The Creator of the Grid's look turned to wounded.
"My own system monitors, turned against me!" He bemoaned.
Tron chuckled, and turned to the betas.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," he said as sincerely as he could, "And I will explain later. You had better head back to the garage."
They nodded and disappeared. Tron was left standing with Flynn and Anon, and wondering why he felt like he should go with them.
Anon sidled up to him.
"So, Tron, how long has it been since you rested? If it's more than two cycles, there's an arena right here..."
Tron gave him a look.
"Yeah I thought so," Anon muttered.

Tron was strangely nervous the next time he was free time in Argon. He didn't know how the young programs he had come to be fond of would react to him, now that they knew who he really was.
Beck was the first to notice him, as he stood in his Rinz guise at the front of the shop.
"Hey!" He called, running toward Tron waving wildly. The rest of the betas followed him, hollering past the mechanics in their individual stations. No one paid them any mind; the building often saw small groups of betas running after each other.
Beck stopped in front of Tron, and gave him a high five.
"We weren't sure you were gonna come back!" Bhodi exclaimed.
Beck elbowed him.
"Well, most of us weren't sure. Beck said you would," Bhodi amended.
"And I was right!" Beck pumped his first triumphantly.
"Why'd you pretend to be someone else, Tron?" Zed asked.
"We would've played with you just the same if we knew your real name," Mara added.
Tron took down his mask, but kept his tetramino unlit as he walked with them to the arena. Most programs in this area didn't know his face, just his symbol, and since he was not actively trying to his his identity from the betas, there was no reason not to show his face.
"Tron is my real name, young ones, but being Tron is also my job. I wanted a break. You don't want to be 'mechanic' all cycle, every cycle, do you?" He asked reasonably.
They really were taking this much better than expected.
"Able said something like that when he sat us down about it," Beck mentioned, as he walked a bit ahead of the group, next to Tron.
That explained it. If Able could sell his sit-down wisdom sessions for credits, he would be wealthier than that glitch Zuse without even having to keep his garage open.
The arena looked large up ahead, and the Betas were all running toward it; all except Beck, who stayed at his side, looking at him contemplatively.
"You want a break? Why spend it with a bunch of betas?" He asked carefully, watching Tron's face for the smallest of expressions.
"Haven't found anyone else to beat me in the arena yet. And Argon's a nice city, you know."
"Really? I always wanted to travel when I get older. Maybe find a job at a mechanic's shop nearby, open my berth for another Beta."
Tron got the feeling he was being tested somehow, but he didn't know in what way. He just said the first thing that came to mind.
"Well, the security force always needs good mechanics. If you stop by a while, you'll be able to get a job there, when you're older."
"And until then, you'll have to travel all the way here to get beaten at Disc Wars!" Beck grinned cheekily. Evidently Tron had passed the test.
Tron couldn't help but grin back.
"Not likely, beta!" He teased, and they both started running for the arena.

Notes:
Characterization for the Tron fandom is rather thin on the ground, so I extrapolated and headcanoned merrily away. Also, I am by no means encyclopedic in my knowledge, so I may have unknowingly made errors against canon.
But this is fluff, and an AU, so I can do what I want.
Some notes on the characters as I see them:
Tron is serious at times, but he does enjoy relaxing with his friends. His characterization here is closer to the first movie than the Uprising series, as he hasn't been betrayed by any friends.
Bhodi is mostly a walking headcanon. We get approximately 2.0 seconds of him before he's derezzed in the cartoon, so I gave him a personality completely of my own design.
Mara, Beck, and Zed are less bitter overall; remember, this is a nice AU.
Able strikes me as the kind of program everyone knows is wise; his garage is a haven for mechanic betas for a reason. All the mechanics in the show seemed to be young.
The beta jokes are based on my probably errant perception of small children, but giving them adult sized bodies. I've known a couple kids who I wouldn't put kidnap-adoption past if they had the means.
Anon, in the game, never talked, but the way they framed the scenes, it seemed about half the time that he was interrupted before he got the chance to speak. In addition, without the rush Flynn had to get him up and running in Canon, he probably got a bit more attention and thorough coding in this AU.
Flynn always seemed well-meaning but slightly irresponsible and flighty to me. Another example of spotty characterization.