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by W.K. Author IconMail Icon
Rated: ASR · Other · Action/Adventure · #1858751
Isaac's brief recollection of Tier 1 training.
Aegis Memoirs: Tier 1

By: Isaac Lee Brand




Tokeland, Washington. Far away from my tropical home of Biloxi. This was one of the reasons I did not want to join Aegis, at first. I’m used to rain and wind, but the cold was not something I particularly cared for. I was told that it was a great place to train Special Ops, detached from just about everything and everyone as it was, and that it hardened the troops. I suppose that last one was true.

Back in those days, they divided up the Aegis training into their particular fields. Since I would be mostly a standard infantry troop, I was sent to the armpit of Washington State, where I would learn to stay up for weeks on end, do push-ups with one hand and a man’s boot on my back, and tune out people who yelled constantly. Special ops training was really just the same as basic, that is, a mind game. If you decided that you were going to make it no matter what, you would make it through. Thankfully, most of my teammates seemed to recognize that fact, as well.

We all worked pretty well together. Most of the names have faded since then, but I can remember a few of them pretty well. Trace Mason was probably the easiest to remember, because he stood out. It wasn’t just his name, which sounded like a private investigator’s alias. It was the fact that the man was just a clown, and would do anything for a laugh, no matter how much punishment he had to endure afterwards. Being a fellow Army sergeant, we traded many stories of crapholes we had been sent to over the years.

Of course, for every Trace Mason, there was a Samuel Tarin, as well, the man who was always serious. He was straight Air Force, a Major at the time, and blue to the core. Being a para-rescue before he was in Aegis, the man had seen an ungodly amount of bloodshed, and was not in the business of seeing any of his men get killed. He had a habit of being too serious, but never let any of us fall behind if we got tired, even if that meant that he had to carry us. Every single man and woman in that platoon was vital to our success.

After fourteen weeks of special ops training, every single one of us graduated...something I never thought would happen. I later learned that this was the case for almost every Aegis training platoon.

“Men, women, I want to congratulate you on your graduation from special ops training. These skills you have learned will form the foundation to build for yourself, and your nation, a fortress. For thousands of years, it has been the man...not any machine, that has formed the backbone of our military. You have all taken brave steps to become the smartest, strongest soldiers ever to grace a battlefield, but your journey is not over yet. Over the next several months, you will learn to use a myriad of equipment, but always remember that it is you that makes the difference, not any machine,” he said. Inspiring words. Basically, they just meant that we were about to learn to use the NC suit in a way that we had never thought possible.

The very next day, we were sent to a briefing on the technology that we would soon be using. We all knew that for all the fancy words and training we were receiving, this whole affair was pretty much a Top Gun of NC Suits...we were the best, and they were going to make us

better. So it came as little surprise that we half paid attention to the information the video was telling us. We figured that it was a video that thousands before us had already seen, and thousands more after would see. At least, until a young Senior Airman interrupted the video and

came to address us directly.

“Good morning, everyone,” the Airman said, “my name is Airman Wentz, and my guess is that most of you have not been watching the video.” Some of us chuckled a bit.

“Well, no worries, because I’m gonna tell you what you need to know, so we can get you onto the next part of training. How many of you have ever heard of Project Argos?” Wentz asked. We all just looked at each other in confusion, with no real answer.

“We haven’t exactly been privy to a Popular Science magazine, Wentz,” Trace said, and we all laughed.

“So I understand,” Wentz replied, smiling and laughing as well, “But no matter. The reason I ask is because it has a lot to do with what the next step of your training is. Now, you have been carefully studied the last fourteen weeks, your central nervous system mapped by

techniques developed through Project Argos. This map will be used as you are implanted with hardware for the Adaptive Neural Interface.”

“The what now?” Trace asked.

“Up until now, you have been operating NC suits that pick up signals from your skin, at the very end of your individual nerves. While this is adequate for combat, there is a lot of room for improvement if we can access the body’s electrical signals from the spinal cord itself,” Wentz

said.

“You’re gonna operate on our spines?” Tarin asked, incredulous at the suggestion.

“No nerves will be cut. Implantation of the ANI hardware will require a simple incision to attach the nerve to an electrical wire, which will connect to the suit,” Wentz replied.

“So you’re going to put a computer inside of us?” I asked.

“Just the hardware. The ANI itself is in the suit. The hardware allows the suit to connect to the ANI, and process the brain’s signals much more efficiently, and allows you to do much more through the suit,” Wentz said. We were all a little puzzled as to exactly why we were here

at this moment. Clearly this would not be an NC suit refresher course.

“The suit, as you have used it in the past, was simply armor for you. Armor that allowed you to be stronger and faster, but armor nonetheless. With this upgrade, the suit will become much more. It will be hands to hold new weapons, eyes to see what you have never seen

before. Things that required fleets of bombers, command posts, and tanks to do, you will be able to do on your own,” Wentz said. This wasn’t sounding too bad.

“Of course, this is a volunteer effort only, and so I will offer you all the option of leaving. You will be rewarded the JFSTD Special Training Ribbon, which will look well on a promotion package. If you go through with this, the hardware can never be removed. You will carry out

many missions that you can never speak of, and you will do things that normal soldiers could never even dream of, dangerous things that would make great stories, if you were allowed to tell them. The pay is not too terrible, either,” Wentz said. We all laughed a little.

“But in all seriousness, if you would like to leave, now is your chance,” Wentz said, relaxing his posture a bit, as though to wait to see if anyone would take his offer. Whether we were excited at the opportunity ahead of us, underestimating the thing we were about to do, or

simply not willing to look like chickens in front of each other, we all stayed seated, giving Wentz no doubt that we were serious about going through with this.

“Alright then,” Wentz replied, flipping through a folder at his podium, “If you will all follow me, we will get started.” He led us through a few hallways, back to an area that was clearly the waiting area for an operating room. He handed us each a packet with our name on it, as well as

a callsign.

“It is something of a tradition to give our trainees new names. These designations are yours for the rest of your lives, and they will set you apart from any other soldier,” Wentz said. Grizzly, A-II was written on mine. It had a sort of ring to it.

“What does A-II stand for?” I asked.

“It means you’re part of the second generation of Aegis soldiers,” Wentz replied as he headed back into the OR.

“What happened to the first generation?” Mason asked.

“Classified!” Wentz yelled back as he continued walking.

“Touchy,” Mason replied with a sour look on his face.

We all had a bit of time to think about the decision that we had made. The more I talked with the people around me, the more I realized that no one really knew what we were in for. We were all a little curious about A-I...apparently, something had happened to the first generation that someone didn’t want anyone else knowing about. It was a little late to turn back now, though.

“Lieutenant Allen?” A nurse called out. I knew him enough to recognize him, but hadn’t gotten to know him very well. He walked back through the doors, and...well, only he knew what happened after that, at that point.

“Petty Officer Athens?” The next nurse said. I did get Allen and Athens mixed up a few times, and felt pretty bad about it.

“Captain Baker?” Another nurse called. Ah yes, old Muffin himself.

“Airman Bell?” The first nurse said. Lots of football jokes with this guy that he never got. He was more into baseball.

“Sergeant Brand?” A nurse said. I stood up and headed back to the operating room, thanking the nurse for holding the door for me. The doctor shook my hand as I entered the room.

“I’m Captain Avis, like the car rental company,” he said. I laughed a bit, then wondered why he was trying to make me laugh. I took it as bedside manner, hoping he wasn't just trying to calm me down before a painful operation.

“Alright, so what we are going to do after the anesthesia kicks in is to make an incision in the back of your neck. When this is done, we will insert a few wires, as well as a connector to link to the ANI in your new suit, once the operation is done and you have recovered. The wires

will attach themselves to your brain stem, so we won’t be doing any digging into your nerves. And don’t worry, the procedure is perfectly safe,” Avis said.

“You know this from testing it on the first generation?” I asked.

“Yes, of course,” he said dismissively, “Do you have any other questions?”

“Do I have to worry about these wires being ripped out of my head at any point?” I asked.

“The bond between the wires and your nerves will grow stronger with time, and the only piece exposed will be the connector. There will be nothing for anyone to grab, even if they wanted to pull it out of your head,” Avis replied. I supposed that was about the only comfort I was going to find in this strange procedure.

“Alright, let’s do this,” I said. Avis shook his head and put an IV into my arm. Soon after it began to work, he put the anesthetic in the tube, and I passed out quickly.

When I awoke, I could feel the connector itching my neck. Almost impulsively, I reached to scratch it. The doctors quickly came to tell me that that was not a good idea, and injected something into the IV that helped to stop the itching. Whatever it was helped me to relax, as well. Avis asked me how I was, and after shaking off some grogginess, I was able to hear him clearly. They took us back to our rooms after the procedure, allowing us to sleep a few days to let the anesthesia wear off and the area operated on to heal properly.

We were all a little eager to see what our new implant would allow us to do. They did not keep us waiting long, as we received the call at 0500 to report to the armory by 0800. We all grabbed a good breakfast at the dining facility,and headed to the huge building at the appointed

time.

“Good morning, everyone,” a soldier said, “I am Sergeant Falin, the quartermaster of this armory.” I suddenly wondered why everyone involved with this program was so formal.

“Each of you will be equipped with your own Armorcorp Blitz Mark I neurally-controlled armor suit. This suit is equipped for your body size and your neural patterns, so do not, under any circumstances, trade any piece of armor with anyone, even in this class. Understood?” Falin asked. We all nodded our heads yes.

“Good. The Blitz Mk I is a Tier 1 suit, which means that it is a fairly basic armored suit. It will enhance strength, speed, and endurance like a normal NC suit, but it is also equipped with the Adaptive Neural Interface in the collar and helmet of the suit. This advanced computer will

synchronize itself with your central nervous system, informing your brain of everything the suit is doing, and vice versa. The ANI will enhance your fight-or-flight reactions, and accelerate your body’s reaction times, all while helping you to remain calm and alert on the battlefield under any

circumstances. But the most interesting function that the ANI will perform is to amplify your natural talents. Over the next several weeks, you will be subjected to individual training that will help to draw out these abilities and allow you to harness and refine them,” Falin said. He motioned for us to approach our labeled suits. Mine was fitted with gray and white emblem of a Grizzly bear, roaring upward...I was very impressed.

Having used these suits many times before, I put each piece on. It felt like a typical NC suit, heavy but not heavy. But when I put the helmet on, everything changed. The ANI displayed its startup procedure on the heads-up display, as well as a message that said “Synchronization

in progress...”

When it finished syncing, the suit seemed to lose all its weight. Suddenly, the suit was giving me information on everything around me: the building I was in, the soldiers I was facing, even information about my own body. It let me know that my heart rate was rising, something I

was already aware of.

“Just try to relax,” Falin said calmly, “The suit takes a few moments to adjust to fine tune itself to work with your brain.” He was right, over a few seconds, the information seemed to slow down, and my heart rate returned to a normal level. A little later, the information was limited to only things I was actively thinking about, as well as body functions that my brain seemed to beworking harder on than others. In time, I could feel the calming effects that Falin talked about earlier.

“Good. Now, take a look around the room and concentrate on someone else,” Falin said as he put on his own NC suit. I looked at Sergeant Tarin, and the suit began to give me information on his current state of health.

“You should be seeing information about the soldier you are looking at. His status will be indicated shorthand as a color code, green to red,” Falin added.

“So we don’t need a medic to tell us when we’re dead anymore, that’s great,” Mason said. We all laughed a bit.

“This is just a basic diagnostic, Mason. Yoou will find out more about this suit’s abilities in formal training. Now, fall out for the intro course,” Falin said. We all walked over to the grass field where we would learn some basics of the suit. Mason must have been enjoying the experience

of the new suit more than the rest of us, because he pushed me and took off running. He was incredibly fast, something I already knew from special ops training, and something that he found that he did much better in his suit. Mason whooped in excitement at his newfound speed. I looked at my feet, and the suit indicated a couple of rocks at my feet, and indicated a spot under his foot. I picked up the rock and threw it hard, then watched in disbelief as the rock hit its target, causing him to spin around and fall to the ground. We all laughed a bit as Mason picked himself up, laughing as well.

“OK, I deserved that one,” he said.

“And, as childish a display as it was, it gives a good example of the unique things the ANI will enable in individual soldiers,” we heard a new voice say.

“Sorry,” Mason said.

“I know you are. I’m retired Lieutenant Colonel James Vale, and I was one of the testers for the prototypes of the ANI devices you are wearing right now. I’ll be with you for the next several weeks, helping you to get the most out of these new suits,” he said. My suit was already analyzing the man: his height, his approximate age by the amount of cracks in his voice...things I didn’t even know that I could tell about anyone from such small details.

“Is anyone else seeing this?” I asked, referring to all the details the suit was giving me.

“Seeing what?” Trace asked.

“Is there a problem, Sergeant Brand?” Vale asked me.

“I don’t think so, sir, it’s just that my suit is giving me a ton of information about you, and I was wondering if everyone was seeing this,” I clarified.

“Ah yes, your tactical mind. I see the ANI is already putting your abilities to use,” Vale said.

“What abilities, what are you talking about?” I asked, confused.

“Didn’t you read your file?” He asked. I sheepishly shook my head no.

“Did anyone read their file?” Vale asked loudly. We all just murmured to ourselves, coming up with excuses why we didn’t to tell each other.

“Well then, this should be fun. Yes, Sergeant Brand, your ability that the ANI improves is the ability to think tactically, analyzing any situation expertly, even while under pressure. Although, I’m a little surprised I have to tell you that,” Vale said with a bit of disbelief in his voice. I honestly did not expect any armed forces, especially the JFSTD, to find my ability to think to be anything special.

The training was more focused on making us forget that we were surrounded by eighty pounds of armor. We did physical training, weapons training, ate meals, rested, and did almost everything while wearing the suit. The training worked, and we became experts at fine-tuning our movements, making them look more like those of a graceful human being rather than a plodding giant. For several weeks, we lived in the suits.

Then one day, Vale remotely deactivated all of our suits. We were shocked as we suddenly found that the full weight of the suit we hadn’t had to carry was suddenly resting fully on our shoulders...and the rest of our bodies, for that matter. We used it in that fashion for a week, once again doing everything inside of the suit, but this time using only the basic functions that the backup power provided, which was basically to provide oxygen and keep joint rotation fluid. It was rough, but we all grew strong from the experience. From that day onward, the suit was powered down one random day of every week to keep us from growing too reliant on the suits.

Vale worked closely with me to develop my tactical thinking skills to work with the suit. In time, with the help of the suit, I could calculate the velocity of a bullet, the type of bullet used, and its approximate point of impact in a single second. I could analyze everything in the room to find improvised weapons. I could look at a car and compare it to others around it, picking out which car was likely to contain a high-value target or a bomb. The ways this skill could help me with a mission were more numerous than I could count.

There were drawbacks to the skill, however. My mind was beginning to function at an accelerated pace, making me unable to tolerate sitting still for long periods of time. Sleep became harder to get, and even when I did, I would have vivid dreams of the past. I could not even count all the battles that I had been in, or the places I had been to fighting those battles. No amount of excitement over the new experience of the Aegis program could take away the fact that deep inside, I dreaded the day when they would send me back to war again.

But for now, there was little to do but to continue the training, and to enjoy the shelter that Tokeland provided, far away from the fields of battle. Soon enough, I would see them again.
© Copyright 2012 W.K. (wkadams88 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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