“How come you don’t get that fixed?” the mechanic asked idly as she tightened a final few bolts.
“I would rather not,” the soldier said. Chatter like this was to no purpose. He distracted himself by pulling up the day’s mission profile. Building outlines and location data traced itself in the air in spidery green lines, punctuated by red explanatory notes.
“Wouldn’t be no trouble,” the mechanic said, undeterred. “All’s it needs is a new side panel there. I got one that’ll just fit. Even cut you a break on pricing if you want, seein’ as I got it on a swap in the first place. Real stuff, too, don’t have to worry about that.”
“I would rather not,” the soldier repeated. Could she not take the hint? He slightly expanded the profile. Red lines of text unscrolled neatly out from the notes as the green lines swept out around him.
“Okay, okay, I get you,” the mechanic said, giving a shrug. She gave the last bolt a whack with her wrench. “There. All fixed up anyway, even if you don’t look good. You’re covered cost-wise and all; y’ got other issues but at least you pay well, I’ll give you that. See you ‘round, hotshot.”
“That is not my identification,” the soldier said, but the mechanic had already gone back inside her shop without further adieu. This was a surprise to the soldier. Usually the humans in this sector offered more formal and lengthier goodbyes, often taking many minutes. This abrupt farewell seemed an odd departure. Perhaps she was offended. Something to discuss with Command.
The soldier powered up thrusters, a small part of its primary neural processor still analyzing the encounter. Had the sudden goodbye been caused by the rejection of the mechanic’s request to repair the soldier’s scarred side panel? Possibly, although the soldier had thought otherwise. Analysis had suggested that maintaining damaged parts as a reminder of losses incurred was common among humans. Perhaps the practice had been misunderstood. Further study was needed.
Noting this for future reference, the soldier rocketed away into the darkening sky above the lonely moon.
Inspired by ’s prompt: write about a scar.