Heirloom Public Safety Equipment

[alterae]

Author’s Note: This story was originally posted to
cohost on 5 May 2023, in response to a writing prompt by making_up_mech_pilots:
Mech Pilot who stole their first Mech off a farm, out of a barn, out
from under a sheet..

The Wright Dynamics 704 “Shrike” frame is a thing of beauty. Six legs
with adaptive joint attenuation, integrated self-refueling jump jets,
and a state-of-the-art ECM suite.

The mech before Technician First Class Erin Markova is not a Shrike.
It isn’t even a Wright Dynamics model. It is, by all accounts, a
modified wild-land firefighting vehicle. Like a Shrike, it has six legs,
but that’s about as far as the similarity goes. Judging by the rust and
the lack of sun damage, the thing’s been sitting in a shed longer than
Erin has been alive.

“What,” she asks the pilot of the offending mech, “is that, and why
is it in my maintenance bay.”

“Oh, this?” The pilot pats the mech’s leg, sending flakes of paint
spiraling through the air. “This is Sharpened Plowshare, a
Spencer CL-30-w. She was my granddad’s back in the thirties.”

“That’s great and all, but why is it here? It’s an antique
piece of public safety equipment, not a weapons platform.”

“The Volunteer Corps recruiters said I could bring my own mech, and
after the Mare Tranquillitatis operation they offered to transfer me to
the regular Armored Cavalry, and now here I am.” It almost makes sense.
They certainly look the part of a Volunteer Corps pilot.

“Wait, you mean she’s seen combat? On Luna?”
Markova recalibrates her mental model of the pilot on the fly. “I didn’t
think the CL-30 was vacuum-rated.”

“Oh. Yeah, it turns out an airtight cockpit is useful for
firefighting, and with a little reinforcement, it’s useful in vacuum as
well.”

“So… you modified the chassis for off-world combat operations, but
you couldn’t be bothered to give her a paint job?”

“Uh, it wasn’t really at the top of my priorities.”

“Okay, well, the first thing that’s going to happen is you’re going
to grab the shop vac and clean your paint flakes off my floor. Then,
we’ll get to work. Judging by the rust, we’re going to have to replace
all the exterior plating.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah. I can’t believe you took this stuff through active combat and
lived. I think I have some spare battle-plate in the back.”

“Can I at least keep the old armor? It’s an heirloom.”

“Fine, I’ll let you keep it instead of sending it to recycling, but
that’s coming out of your mass budget.”