#exosuits

Raffle Sketches: May 2022

A voice squawked in my ear, crystal clear and uniquely grating. My handler, a wiry middle-aged man with a voice like steel wool. I didn’t know his name and I didn’t care. 

“You there, birdbrain?”

“...What is it, HQ?”

“Oy, oy, save the animosity and low voice for the bad guys. You’re en route to the black box, but...just wanted to let you know that you aren’t the only one with a SHINE out here. You’re the only friendly one, though. Lucky you!”

Yes, lucky me. A chance to spread my wing, both literally and figuratively. Swooping low and piercing through the mist spreading lazily over the forest treetops, I ran a systems check on my stealth, ICE, and weapons suites. All green. I grinned inside of the black helmet I wore, which was something visually akin to both a pyramid and a beak. Our callsigns were mostly attributed to something about our appearance or unique abilities. Between the helmet and the Kestrel flight/fight system, it was pretty easy to see where mine came from. 

Another SHINE, huh?

SHINE. Synthetic High-Information Neurolink Exoskeleton. Like most acronyms, it neglects brevity and accuracy for a cool name. Pilots of these advanced personal exoskeletons were usually called Shiners. The overall technology package was pretty new and viable candidates were few and far between, with most applicants washing out within the first two tests. It should be noted that “washing out” was a sanitized term for, well. Anything from neurolink installation failure to psionic organ rejection. It was estimated that Russia, the largest superpower, had around thirty combat capable Shiners. A country’s overall military prowess was determined by the strength and skill of its Shiners after the Toa-Yahontov Skirmish, where two JDF Shiners lead an overwhelming victory against five Russian armored divisions. 

I was one of twelve NATO Shiners. We were relatively late arrivals to the peacekeeping table, due to deliberations over the moral quandaries inherent in our creation. Experimenting on teenagers left a bad taste in the mouth of rational people, I suppose. Wonder why? We turned out to be quite instrumental to a tenuous world peace, though. Our first real deployment lead to us taking on both JDF and RAF Shiners on the artificial island of Oxcallos, smack dab in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Both superpowers had a mind to lay claim to the neutral scientist-lead nation for their own devices, intent on breaking the technological and military stalemate they’d found themselves in since the late 2080′s. My blood surged with a heady sweetness when I recalled the sensation of finally tasting real combat with my SHINE, as if all the pain and training had paid off. Ostensibly, we were there to enforce peace, but I know I wasn’t the only one that reveled in the chance to prove myself to both the world and our commander.

I was pulled out of my reverie by a blip on my radar, some 3 kilometres to the northeast. It appeared only once, but I was sure it was no mistake. My SHINE and I didn’t make “mistakes.” We moved as one, our senses were one. Noting that the buildup in the stealth system’s heatsink was nominal, I nodded internally and increased my speed, on an intercept trajectory with the radar blip.

“HQ, anomaly noted on radar, time logged as 18:37. Moving to intercept. Permission to engage potential hostiles?”

“Permission granted, Crow. Good hunting, even if I’m not seeing whatever you’re seeing.”

“Just trust me. Going radio silent.”

I wove through the mist, silently cursing its presence. Anyone paying close attention would be able to see sharp, unnatural voids in the mist where my sheer speed cut lines into the air. As a countermeasure, I took erratic loops, full stops and dips, the maneuvers only possible because of my SHINE’s unique method of flight - an array of black, bladelike pillars. When active, they formed an elecromagnetic field around the core SHINE, interfacing with my psionics for fine flight control and my neurolink for synchronicity. Flight at the speed of thought, really.

Coming up on the area that had pinged hot on the radar, I made a straight descent onto the ground and switched the Kestrel to scouting mode. The “wings” switched to their inert position, attaching to my SHINE in the rough shape of a cloak, causing me to hover just a couple of inches above the forest floor. I glanced from side to side, monitor inside of my helmet flush with information. The forest floor had been disturbed recently, and the air stank of charged ions and spent fuel. Someone was using a mass-produced SHINE flight system around here, a basic propulsion model. Probably an A-Type Osprey, judging from the smell and scorch marks. As I nodded to myself, running the numbers on who would still be using such outdated tech, I heard it. The softest “plink” of a high-tension fibre wire bowstring.

There.

Without shifting my body, one of my wings shot out and sliced a projectile out of the air. The Sagittarius EMP Arrow buzzed uselessly amidst the fresh dirt before exploding into harmless shrapnel. I’d picked up on the danger as soon as I landed, but decided to play on the back foot and let the attacker come to me. Chasing a target I couldn’t see into the forest was a good way to get riddled full of holes, after all. 

“Is that you, Paris?” 

I asked, taking a shot in the dark. My SHINE’s external speakers broadcast my voice into the endless canopy of trees, and the only response came in the form of three arrows - from three directions. 12, 7, 4. Classic triangle attack pattern.

I blocked all three with two of the Kestrel’s twelve blades, clicking my tongue loud enough for my assailant to hear. 

“You’re getting slow in your...well, you’re the same age as me. I guess you’re just getting slow. You know it’s a war crime to attack a NATO peacekeeping officer unprovoked, right?”

Six this time. Three behind, one in front, two on the sides.

I was getting a little annoyed, now. Paris was probably testing my defenses, seeing how many arrows they needed to fire at once to overwhelm me. That worked for me. I didn’t mind being underestimated if I was the one that set it up. Knowing full well I could deflect all six, I let one slip through my six o’clock before hardening my SHINE’s systems to avoid the EMP burst and deactivating the Kestrel’s scout mode. Falling to the forest’s floor, I stood back up, making a show of attempting to restart my weapons suite.

If they fell for this, they were an idiot.

“Come on, Paris. No mercy for an old comrade? I dunno what they teach you in Greece, but you’ve gotta be kind-”

Idiot.

Sixteen armor-piercing arrows bared down on me, forming a nearly-perfect circle meant to impale me with no room for conversation. This was Paris’ preferred way to fight - unseen, from a distance, and with overwhelming firepower. Their signature weapon was some sort of tricked-out bow coupled with a miniaturized fabricator, capable of producing a wide variety of specialty arrows. Owing to the psionics all of us Shiners trained in, Paris could do this fancy little trick where they simply threw the arrows with their mind. It let them set up attacks that were seemingly impossible to dodge. Thing is, they loved their goddamn bow, so there was always one arrow just a little faster than the others. That was what we called a “dead giveaway.”

Kestrel roared to life with an electrostatic burst, and I spun all twelve blades above my head into an interlocked shield, scattering the arrows with a horrific metal screech. Kicking off the compacted dirt beneath me with the aid of my SHINE’s synthetic muscles, I leapt a good ten feet in the air before activating flight mode, cutting through the dense forest in the blink of an eye. With branches and limbs falling to the cold earth, I followed the direction of that arrow that was just a little faster than the rest. In the thick eaves of an old redwood, Paris scrambled to fire another shot that I barely dodged before I slammed my metallic fist into their sternum, knocking the air out of them. 

We sparred for a few seconds, just like the old days. Unlike the old days, though, all i wanted was to end this pointless little fight as soon as possible, so I simply slapped Paris’ centurion-like helmet with the flat of a Kestrel wing, knocking them out cold. I’m sure they thought I was a bad sport. 

Maybe, but at least I didn’t shoot first and reminisce later. Dick. I set them against the trunk of the tree, rummaging through their SHINE’s external compartments until I found what I was looking for. The black box containing all of Rabbit’s intel, pulled directly from their brain. And I do mean directly.

“HQ, this is Crow. Looks like the Grecian army sent out Paris to recover the black box. I’ve incapacitated them. Do you want me to bring them back to base along with the black box?”

“Crow, I hate to point out the obvious, but what are you doing blabbing on a battlefield?”

“What do you mean?”

“Since when did they send Paris out without Hektor?” 

The descending roar of a Type-A Osprey sounded in my ears, followed by the metallic “shing!” of what could only be a legendary lance.