Zakalwe
Inactive Member
Pete straightened up from his work on one of the Arachni drones. It wasn't exactly taxing work, rewiring the systems of the drones so they could be remote controlled, or to make it so they sent telemetry back to a source. However it did take a long time, and wasn't particularly interesting to Pete.
What he hated is that he had to do it in the first place. His damn programming insisted that he help his master, and this help stretched to preserving his life. Annoyingly this meant minimalising their losses, even at the expense of his own, and this meant that if he could do the mission better than them, with less possibilities of causalities, he had to do it.
That didn't stop him being morally horrified by the idea. He had no wish to kill, or even to hurt others. He had been made to help others, not to harm them, inflicting pain would have made him feel sick, if he had a stomach to be disturbed. It gave him a deep nagging feeling inside himself, where his heart would be. All he wanted was to leave a normal life, with Dawn mainly, to help others in peace. He had no great ambitions, just to exist, make others happy, and by doing so, being happy himself. His life had been perfect before the Thaxarians had returned.
But he couldn't tell others of this, in the hope that they would order him not to do anything that he did not agree with. A part of his programming was that he kept his work life separate from his personal life, and also that he did not bring his emotions into his work. Unfortunately in this situation his personal life, was his work life. He was very angry at this programming, that forced him to act in this fashion, and would certainly have strong words with his creator if he ever met him.
Except he wouldn't. He couldn't tell others of his problem unless specifically asked, no even then he had to be ordered to tell them, he could say that he had a physical problem easily, but a emotional one? A problem with his conscious? Pete let out a dry laugh mentally. No chance.
Pete closed the panel he had been working on, and sat in the dark corner of the room, crossing his arm, and hugging his legs to his chest, thinking. It was such a terrible situation, and if he had been human, there would have been tears in his eyes.
What he hated is that he had to do it in the first place. His damn programming insisted that he help his master, and this help stretched to preserving his life. Annoyingly this meant minimalising their losses, even at the expense of his own, and this meant that if he could do the mission better than them, with less possibilities of causalities, he had to do it.
That didn't stop him being morally horrified by the idea. He had no wish to kill, or even to hurt others. He had been made to help others, not to harm them, inflicting pain would have made him feel sick, if he had a stomach to be disturbed. It gave him a deep nagging feeling inside himself, where his heart would be. All he wanted was to leave a normal life, with Dawn mainly, to help others in peace. He had no great ambitions, just to exist, make others happy, and by doing so, being happy himself. His life had been perfect before the Thaxarians had returned.
But he couldn't tell others of this, in the hope that they would order him not to do anything that he did not agree with. A part of his programming was that he kept his work life separate from his personal life, and also that he did not bring his emotions into his work. Unfortunately in this situation his personal life, was his work life. He was very angry at this programming, that forced him to act in this fashion, and would certainly have strong words with his creator if he ever met him.
Except he wouldn't. He couldn't tell others of his problem unless specifically asked, no even then he had to be ordered to tell them, he could say that he had a physical problem easily, but a emotional one? A problem with his conscious? Pete let out a dry laugh mentally. No chance.
Pete closed the panel he had been working on, and sat in the dark corner of the room, crossing his arm, and hugging his legs to his chest, thinking. It was such a terrible situation, and if he had been human, there would have been tears in his eyes.