After the crisis resolution, Teeth continued cooperation with newly formed Wardens, which took over the duties of now defunct PRT and Protectorate, providing security for their HQ and detention center.
Each wore armor in gun-metal and black, with parallels to the standard PRT uniforms I was more familiar with. Their helmets, however, had three eyeholes, with blue lenses glowing faintly from beneath. Two lenses for their eyes, a third for a camera. The armor was bulky, offering thick protection around the neck and joints, with a heavy pack on the back for both oxygen and for the computers they wore.
They were, in large part, wearing stripped-down versions of Defiant’s outfit. Sacrifices had been made to account for the fact that their suits didn’t render them seven and a half feet tall. Each carried a sword and a laser pistol. - Excerpt from Sting 26.2
↑December 5th, 2012, six months ago [...] “The Guild found the mass-production tinker. All signs point to them becoming a force in their own right. We won’t be helpless.” - Excerpt from 27.x (Interlude, Eidolon)
↑ I’d never liked the cameras. Heads turned as I approached, and I knew they were recording, tracking details about me and feeding them back to a main server, where they compiled information, discarded excess.
The combat engines that the Dragon’s Teeth were wearing were still in early stages, the data patchy, depending on the target. The people in uniform had spent weeks and months training with the things, learning to shift fluidly between their own tactics and awareness of the situation and the data that was provided. Protectorate Capes and Wards that were just starting out were being trained with the things, but those of us that had experience fighting tended to find them a distraction.
Useful? Yes. A bit of a boost, a bit of an edge. But not quite at the point where everyone could benefit.