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There
are
three
main
types
of
M.
I.
armor
:
marauder
,
command
,
and
scout
.
Scout
suits
are
very
fast
and
very
long-range
,
but
lightly
armed
.
Command
suits
are
heavy
on
go
juice
and
jump
juice
,
are
fast
and
can
jump
high
;
they
have
three
times
as
much
comm
&
radar
gear
as
other
suits
,
and
a
dead-reckoning
tracker
,
inertial
.
Marauders
are
for
those
guys
in
ranks
with
the
sleepy
look
--
the
executioners
.
As
I
may
have
said
,
I
fell
in
love
with
powered
armor
,
even
though
my
first
crack
at
it
gave
me
a
strained
shoulder
.
Any
day
thereafter
that
my
section
was
allowed
to
practice
in
suits
was
a
big
day
for
me
.
The
day
I
goofed
I
had
simulated
sergeant
's
chevrons
as
a
simulated
section
leader
and
was
armed
with
simulated
A-bomb
rockets
to
use
in
simulated
darkness
against
a
simulated
enemy
.
That
was
the
trouble
everything
was
simulated
--
but
you
are
required
to
behave
as
if
it
is
all
real
.
We
were
retreating
--
"
advancing
toward
the
rear
,
"
I
mean
--
and
one
of
the
instructors
cut
the
power
on
one
of
my
men
by
radio
control
,
making
him
a
helpless
casualty
.
Per
M.
I.
doctrine
,
I
ordered
the
pickup
,
felt
rather
cocky
that
I
had
managed
to
get
the
order
out
before
my
number
two
cut
out
to
do
it
anyhow
,
turned
to
do
the
next
thing
I
had
to
do
,
which
was
to
lay
down
a
simulated
atomic
ruckus
to
discourage
the
simulated
enemy
overtaking
us
.
Our
flank
was
swinging
;
I
was
supposed
to
fire
it
sort
of
diagonally
but
with
the
required
spacing
to
protect
my
own
men
from
blast
while
still
putting
it
in
close
enough
to
trouble
the
bandits
.
On
the
bounce
,
of
course
.
The
movement
over
the
terrain
and
the
problem
itself
had
been
discussed
ahead
of
time
;
we
were
still
green
--
the
only
variations
supposed
to
be
left
in
were
casualties
.
Doctrine
required
me
to
locate
exactly
,
by
radar
beacon
,
my
own
men
who
could
be
affected
by
the
blast
.
But
this
all
had
to
be
done
fast
and
I
was
n't
too
sharp
at
reading
those
little
radar
displays
anyhow
.
I
cheated
just
a
touch
--
flipped
my
snoopers
up
and
looked
,
bare
eyes
in
broad
daylight
.
I
left
plenty
of
room
.
Shucks
,
I
could
see
the
only
man
affected
,
half
a
mile
away
,
and
all
I
had
was
just
a
little
bitty
H.
E.
rocket
,
intended
to
make
a
lot
of
smoke
and
not
much
else
.
So
I
picked
a
spot
by
eye
,
took
the
rocket
launcher
and
let
fly
.
Then
I
bounced
away
,
feeling
smug
--
no
seconds
lost
.
And
had
my
power
cut
in
the
air
.
This
does
n't
hurt
you
;
it
's
a
delayed
action
,
executed
by
your
landing
.
I
grounded
and
there
I
stuck
,
squatting
,
held
upright
by
gyros
but
unable
to
move
.
You
do
not
repeat
not
move
when
surrounded
by
a
ton
of
metal
with
your
power
dead
.
Instead
I
cussed
to
myself
--
I
had
n't
thought
that
they
would
make
me
a
casualty
when
I
was
supposed
to
be
leading
the
problem
.
Shucks
and
other
comments
.
I
should
have
known
that
Sergeant
Zim
would
be
monitoring
the
section
leader
.
