1:5:10 Lores (Part 5)

“What do you want to start with? We can either go to the armoury or the prison.” Char pointed to the buttons on the lift.
Lore pushed the call button. “Let’s see what sort of weapons this lot used to use.”
The lift arrived and the muzak played. Before they could get comfortable and spark up a conversation, they were at their destination. The doors opened. Behind them an arsenal that spanned the entire floor. Rows upon rows of rifles, pistols, bludgeons and swords sprawled ahead; weaving between them, an army of spindly robots.
As they stepped out of the lift, one approached. “Greeting: Salutations Head Inquisitor! Query: How may we be of assistance?”
“Hello.” Lore started politely. “I was wondering if you could direct us to an inventory of the weapons stored here?”
“Information: All units are equipped with a dedicated terminal with direct access to the mainframe.” It paused. “Follow-up Query: Do you wish to access the database?”
“Yes please.” Lore nodded. “Sorry, do you have a name?”
“Information: This unit, and every unit on this floor, is a Proxy class combat droid.” It answered. “Information Addendum: This tablet will allow you access to the full weapons catalogue and requisitions system.”
“Thank you.” Lore took the tablet.
The Proxy unit moved in closer to Lore’s ear. It didn’t decrease the volume of its vocal modulator “Query: This unit’s prior employer programmed all Proxy units to tolerate this specific alien. Would the current Head Inquisitor like to change this?”
Char looked taken aback. “Why would Crait want their workforce to tolerate me?”
“Information: The previous Head Inquisitor made such an addendum to the Proxy program one-hundred and thirteen days ago.” The Proxy paused.
“Information Addendum: The things I do for them… Listen, if you see that Quatarrian cow, don’t kill her without asking. I doubt you’ll ever have to use that programming but better safe than sorry.” Crait’s voice came from the Proxy’s vocaliser.
“Well, it’s nice to know that everyone got the memo.” Lore shrugged. “Please could you amend that program to give Char the same privileges as the Head Inquisitor.”
“Information: Update successful. Greeting: Salutations Head Inquisitor! Salutations Quatarrian Cow!” The Proxy unit seemed to take some joy from degrading Char.
“It can stop that!” Char scalded.
Lore tried to stifle their laugh with a cough. “Please address Char by her name in the future or by her title of Head Inquisitor.”
“Information: Addendum made. Greeting: Salutations Head Inquisitors!” The Proxy unit stood there, waiting.
Lore held the tablet between themselves and Char; they tapped and scrolled through the weapons inventory. “Well, we can convert the majority of the energy weapons quite easily… It’s the edged weapons that may prove a challenge.”
“And what do we consider non-lethal? I once threatened to kill Crait with a glass ink pen.” Char returned a nonplussed look to Lore’s stare of surprise. “Where’s our threshold for lethality?”
“As long as it can be wielded without killing someone, it’s non-lethal.” Lore reconsidered their definition. “Perhaps we should limit our field units options then play it by ear.”
Char nodded. “Probably for the best. I say that as long as we provide adequate training, anything goes.” She pointed to the ballistic weapons.
“No.” Lore’s tone froze. “I know that bludgeoning an enemy into submission sounds less humane than just shooting them but at least they can recover. If it can kill, they can’t have it.”
Char sighed jovially. “Fine.” She returned the tablet to the Proxy unit which promptly walked away. “Now we’ve got that ball rolling, what’s next?”
“A trip to personnel, I think. We need to register the clones as our staff.” Lore turned on their heels and called the lift.

The personnel floor brought them back to Rexel; a bland office floor with seemingly infinite cubicles; water dispensers were placed at equal intervals. It seemed designed to be as depressing and uninspiring as possible. Lore poked their head over the nearest cubicle.
“Query: How may this unit be of service?” A Proxy unit turned to face them. Unlike the others they had met, this one had been dressed in a blazer and skirt, a wig precariously balanced on its head.
“Oh.” Lore called Char over. “Are you the only one here?”
“Information: Yes. This unit was transferred from requisitions to replace the department after… Event redacted.” The Proxy unit tapped at its keyboard. “Restate Query: How may this unit be of service?”
“We were wondering if we could register some new officers?” Lore paused. “And could you tell us how many Proxy units there are currently in service?”
“Information: Any units you wish to add to the register must be vetted personally by an existing member of staff. Information addendum: There are currently one thousand three hundred units in use.”
Char raised an eyebrow. “I wonder why so many?”
“Trust issues.” Lore shook their head. “I doubt these Proxys are capable of betrayal.”
“Information: Proxy units are fully capable of betrayal.” Lore could have sworn the unit’s eye light grew brighter. “Information Addendum: But only if certain programming pre-requisites are met.”
Lore feigned a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s reassuring.”
“Shall we send the clones in then?” Char started tapping at her wrist.
“Not yet.” Lore thought about it. “We’re going to need to sort out our prison situation first. Even though I doubt Crait’s soldiers can break out of their makeshift cells, I don’t want to risk it.”
“I guess we’ll have to start the interviews then…” Char took their hand and started back to the lift. “Shall we?”
“Hold on.” Lore let go and leant back over the top of the divider. “Sorry to bother you again, I was just wondering, of those thousand Proxy units, how many are combat ready?”
“Information: All Proxy units are combat ready.” The Proxy raised its arm; a blade extended from its wrist. “Information Clarification: However, only a third of Proxy units are officially designated for combat purposes.”
Lore nodded. “And how easy would it be to refit all of those units with non-lethal weaponry?”
The unit looked almost offended. “Information: In-unit Proxy weaponry can be altered from the central command terminals to suit mission parameters. Information Addendum: Proxy units are able to select their own weaponry from the approved list. Information Opinion: It would be a waste of the Proxy unit’s talents to restrict them to non-lethal warfare. Information Addendum: However should you still wish to do this, additional modifications would need to be made to the Proxy programming to ensure no ‘accidents’.” The unit moved in closer. “Information Clarification: Unless you want certain ‘accidents’ to still occur.”
“No thank you.” Lore’s smile grew more nervous as the unit spoke. “I suppose it only makes sense Crait programmed you with their sense of humour.” They backed away towards Char. “Thank you, you’ve been very helpful.”
“Information: It was no problem.” The Proxy turned away and back to its computer.
Char had already called the lift; she held her arm between the doors preventing them from closing. “They really don’t know how to whisper do they?”
Lore shook their head. “No they do not.” They entered the lift car. “I wonder if Destiny wouldn’t mind being in charge of them? A change in leadership might be just what they need?”
“You’re going to trust Destiny to command over a thousand murder bots?” Char chuckled. “I’m joking, I’m sure she’d do a great job.”
“Before we go back to the prison, I think it might be a good idea to see what we can do with the Proxys first. We can see how Alodrass and Brian are doing.” Lore pushed the button.
“Are you okay?” Char pulled Lore into a hug. “It’s a lot, I know, but if we wanted, we could take a break…”
“No.” Lore shook their head as they pulled in closer to Char. “It’s now or never. Once the dust has settled, then maybe we can take a break.”
“Definitely.” Char kissed their forehead. “Maybe we could start with getting your eye looked at? The Quatarrians do some excellent prosthetics and I would say they more than owe you a favour.”
Lore shot across the room, shaking like a leaf in the wind. “No.” They managed to eke out before they fell to the floor.
“What’s the matter?” She tried to move over to them but Lore only retreated further into the corner. “I’m not coming closer but talk to me.”
Lore’s wounded eye glowed white. The light trickled down their face in a teardrop, creating a trail from their eye to their hand. The light infected the lift. Lore’s lip quivered. “The beauty…” No noise came out yet their whisper was still heard. “I can’t lose the beauty.” Char slowly started to cross the lift. “The eye of the beholder sees it. Time sees it. I can’t lose the beauty.” The whispered echoes started crossing over one another, filling the lift with Lore’s thoughts. “I saw a life without the beauty. No.”
Char made contact. “Lore. Tell me what’s going on. Please.”
They stopped shaking. “Time. It spoke to me; it helped me to see my futures. It told me to choose. By the time I reached Tolan, my mind was made.”
“That explains why you were so calm.” Char finished her journey and wrapped herself around Lore. “What’s this beauty? What’s so important about it?”
“It’s you.” Lore’s voice was barely audible. “You illuminate the universe.” Char sat back a little, speechless. “Alone, all I see is the now. The moments as they happen, history as it’s being made. When you’re around, I see all of the colours of time; the universe itself sings to me. I see everything, basking in your radiance.” The light in their eye faded leaving only the cloudy sky blue behind. “This.” Lore rubbed their fingers beside their damaged eye. “This saved my life. Without it, without you, I would have lost to Crait, I would have died. Time showed me the way.”
The lift resumed. Char tightened her embrace.