Context: There are three critical moments throughout the nine-book A.T.X.D. Legacy series where our main character(s) suit up for the first time in the tactical uniform of the force: Richard in A.T.X.D. (1), Laney in A.T.X.D. Stealth Angel (4), and our chief protagonists in A.T.X.D. Last Stand (9). Some of my classmates from Marshall's class felt like the suit-up scene from the first book was a little too itemized, so I want you to look at this and help me find a way for this scene to give readers goosebumps.
First, let's look at both of these scenes as they are (Books 1 and 4). Then I want you to listen to this tune from Top Gun (the original 1986 movie) and--based on what you've read then heard--help me find a way to make this scene give that thrill to the reader that "Oh my God, here we are. The uniform of the A.T.X.D.!"
[Side note: The first book's theme has been updated a bit since that workshop session, so it might not be as blocky/itemized as it was before. I still want to make it better.]
A.T.X.D. (1)
Despite handing his phone and electronic watch over to the Specialists, Richard was still subject to an extra scan and pat down. At first, it puzzled him why, but he guessed that, given the instructor’s sarcastic reference to “government tracking chips,” the Specialists were also looking for any small earpieces, hidden radios, or even the slightest presence of electronic activity on Richard’s body. And it didn’t feel invasive, but it took rather long as they scanned and patted his body multiple times before he was finally done. In addition, one of the Specialists probed him with a small laser pointer-like device that he scanned over the upper body, collar, waistline, legs, all the way down to the soles of his feet that were planted on a glass platform with two squares to firmly indicate the appropriate standing position. And within a few seconds of this scan being completed, Richard was promptly informed by the Specialist, “Your uniform is being sized up and delivered as we speak. Your locker is number 220 in the Cadet Changing Hall.”
The locker room was illuminated by narrow, linear panels projecting a whitish-blue lighting, like the rest of the base. Apparently, gender had no bearing on locker assignments, as there were two other men and a young woman in Richard's row, opening their lockers and removing whatever personal or military clothing they had on and pulling out their new uniforms. Richard opened his locker up to find his whole uniform ready and folded neatly, exactly as the Specialist had said. Removing his t-shirt, Richard felt his lungs tension up a bit at the brief exposure to chilly air that flooded through the space before he proceeded to put on the uniform itself: a blueish-black duty shirt followed by a full uniform of the same color, featuring a small zipper as well as a minimal layer of insulation that covered his neck and arms all the way up to the wrists like a thin winter coat. Oh, that’s better, Richard thought with relief as his new uniform seemed to comfortably fuse to his skin and bring his body temperature back up.
After pulling on a similarly colored pair of tactical pants and throwing his sneakers into the locker, Richard removed his new black, eight-inch-high S.W.A.T.-style tactical boots. The smooth leather exterior briefly flashed with a dull reflection of the locker room lighting to signify the thorough polishing job the uniform personnel had done preparing them for use. The nylon mesh and Response Gear logo had also been thoroughly cleaned to the point that Richard felt a tingling softness that traveled up his arm as his fingers brushed the material while closing the side-zip chain. Additionally, there were clip-on leg braces that Richard assumed were supposed to be clipped to the lower shin over the top portion of the boot.
With his uniform on, his boot laces tightened, and his posture firm, Richard headed out with the other recruits to training.
A.T.X.D. Stealth Angel (4)
As promised, the pat down wasn’t particularly uncomfortable: the doctor simply ran her hands across Laney’s shoulders, down her arms, asked her to raise them briefly as she did some more scanning with the device, then finished with a gentle pat down the legs all the way to her ankles and toes but repeated the pats and scans in a few places supposedly to ensure she hadn’t missed anything. When this was done, the doctor retreated and a colleague took out a different scanning device that used a dim laser-point tool to supposedly map Laney's body dimensions: from a distance, he probed it up and down and laterally across Laney’s upper body, around her neck, across her outstretched arms, down her legs, and traced the length and width of her feet to get her shoe size.
“Okay, dimensions uploaded,” the doctor replied, flicking a switch on the device before turning it off. “Your new uniform is being delivered to your locker as we speak.”
“That was quick,” Laney replied with intrigue. “You don’t need to analyze that data further?”
“You’d be surprised at the range of sizes, layouts, and designs we have to catalog for every new recruit, young lady,” the woman who had patted her down earlier replied with a smile. She then picked up a small device that beeped like a pager or smartphone before adding, “And your locker just got assigned to you. Locker R2 - Cadet Changing Hall. You’d better hurry there before somebody claims it ahead of you.”
It amazed Laney to see an equal number of guys and girls in their dark-colored uniforms walking around, patrolling, even socializing together in co-ed groups as she proceeded to her new locker. Yes, the Marines were co-ed, but something about the social atmosphere here made it feel like there wasn’t that hostility which, for the longest time, had left said military branches being wary of women serving in their ranks and especially being allowed to fight on the frontlines.
Two girls walking up the hallway passed by her while socializing in a friendly conversation. One looked to be in her late twenties, edge of her thirties and had gold-blonde hair tied back in a short, flowery ponytail and bright greenish-blue eyes. However, Laney could tell by the cute and daring face that if someone ticked this girl off enough, she could turn into a real fighter and knock someone’s teeth out. Her friend was about the same height but looked a little older. She had light chocolate-brown hair tied back in the uniform cluster that Laney knew was standard among U.S. Military women. They both walked with a uniform stride, and though they paused in conversation to look at the newbie briefly, they continued past her. Interestingly, their looks weren’t icy, wary, or suspicious like the kind of looks Laney had grown accustomed to seeing in school and the Marines. Instead, these two observed her with some intrigued surprise as though they were just getting introduced to her. This made Laney lower her guard a little, and she wondered if she would make some more real friends here.
As the two young women walked past her, Laney got a good look at the uniforms and the gear. From the ground up, she first noticed the boots: jet-black tactical boots that stretched about eight inches up the calves with neatly-done laces, side-zip chains, reflective rounded toes, and rugged one-inch-thick soles that made firm thumps against the polished floor with each step compared to the higher-pitched clicking sounds the chunky heels of Laney’s casual Troopas made. The lower leggings were firmly tucked into the boots instead of covering them all the way to ankles, and the upper uniform was tucked into the waistline and snuggly secured by a black utility belt. A leg holster was attached to either the left or right thigh and fastened by two black braces, although for the moment, it didn’t contain a sidearm in it. There was also a small sheath attached to the rear of one of the girl’s utility belts to be used for carrying a small combat or service knife, but it too was currently empty. Laney noticed the same uniform being worn among the guys, girls, and even some shockingly non-human beings as she walked to the locker room.
So that’ll be my uniform. Really does look tough, was the first thought that came to the young Marine’s mind.
Inside the Cadet Changing Hall, Laney opened up the tall metal door of her new locker to find the exact same uniform: an almost blackish-blue duty t-shirt, a full upper uniform also featuring a deep blue coloring, and similarly-dyed tactical pants that were smoothed of any wrinkles. All of these were individually suspended inside by wire hangers. At the base of the locker stood a pair of eight inch-high, black Galls duty boots, which were shined reflectively and stood ready for some hardcore field use. And finally, the top shelf of the locker held the utility belt with a few items attached, including the sheath for the knife and the sidearm holster.
Removing her hoodie and casual shirt, Laney put on a spare undershirt she’d packed, then pulled on the duty T-shirt followed by the upper half of the main uniform, which stretched all the way to her wrists and was fairly-insulated. The rather cool air inside the base made this ideal, but Laney wondered what she would wear if her “next mission” took place in the desert. Did she have a different uniform for certain harsher weather or did they expect these soldiers to just tough it out? All of her questions would be answered in due time, Ashley had said, so Laney quit bugging herself about it and finished changing. After undoing and pulling off her casual boots, Laney put on her new tactical footwear, pulled up the chain, then firmly set one foot against the locker to do up the laces before switching to the other.
As she hung her U.S. Military dog tag I.D. on the hook in front of her hoodie, Laney noticed a small mirror on the inside of the locker door that allowed her to see herself in the new uniform. The quiet but wary Marine she had been earlier now appeared as a firm, darker-uniformed tomboy who looked back at her with a steady and unblinking stare.
With her new uniform on, her boots done up, and her belt fastened, Laney shut the locker door, turned and headed back out.
A.T.X.D. Last Stand (9) suit-up scene not yet written. If I can get these two scenes to their best, it'll guide me towards making the last book's suit-up scene even stronger and heart-gripping.