Men in Uniform

[alexdraven]

Pimping with a different purpose ;)

Torquere Press published their anthology Men in Uniform today. I have a story in there as Alex Draven, which is my first published sci-fi story, and just look at the company it's keeping!

Men in Uniform - there are other formats avaliable, but I'm linking here so you can see the various story snipets, so you can try before you buy.

Also : many many thanks to ms_mana who had a hand in making Skin a better story than it would otherwise be.

I'll leave you with a moment from Skin.



Mack stumbled out of his pod and down to the mess in a caffeine -- and sleep -- deprived haze. He and Beck had stayed up well into Delta Shift's active phase working out a search pattern for their next mission, determined to be ready to go the second they got the chance. Beck was a typical fly-girl, always eager to be off and doing, and, in fairness, it wasn't like Mack hated being out in the hover, even if they were searching for mineral deposits now, not enemy operatives. They still gave out honors and bounties, and as long as they were mapping the area his job wouldn't get boring.



Getting up within the personal prep phase of his designated shift time, though -- that got old real fast. Three hours sleep just wasn't enough to make the fluorescent lights and general noise of the mess anything but unpleasant. He'd pushed it as far as he could go, sleeping in ‘til the last second, and not bothering to find anything more elaborate than his regulation skinsuit to wear. He could hit the sonics and clean up later, when there was something in his stomach and his head had stopped pounding.




Which would happen sooner if there wasn't such a long line. The mess was a sea of mid-gray bodies. Mack scraped his palms over his stubble, and tried to will his mind to kick into gear as he listened idly to the chatter. Transport due in on Delta Shift's watch. Blah blah. Newbies, then: replacements and trainees and new crew for the expansion of the base. The briefing bulletins were always upbeat and factual, but for the past fifteen minutes the new guys had just been bodies in between Mack and breakfast, which made the expansion neutral-to-bad in his book.





He zoned out, shuffling forwards with the rest of the line, and the ensign on kitchen duty had to ask to get his order.






''Caff and oats, please.''






''Yes, sir.''





Mack blinked and stood straighter, and when his tray slid across the aluminum, held out his wrist for tag scanning, and then he walked away, rather than stumbled. He was only a Nav-Mech III, but he still outranked maybe half the people in here, and he owed it to them to make a decent showing, however rough he was feeling.




Beck and the rest of the fly-crew weren't anywhere he could see, and everyone he did recognize seemed to be boxed in by flocks of new faces, so he settled for the nearest empty seat, sliding into place with a vague “hi” to the strangers already there.



The first mouthful of caff was pure bliss. Mack closed his eyes and rolled the second around his mouth, the heat and the stimulants making his tongue tingle. The stuff didn't quite taste like anything he'd known in the outside world, but it hit the spot like nothing else.





''You enjoying that, huh?''





A deep voice interrupted Mack's contemplation of the world inside his eyeballs. He tried to reply by nodding without looking, but a mouthful later, curiosity got the better of him.




The guy had his arms folded on the table opposite, and he was looking at Mack with this smile, like… With this smile. Even white teeth and dark goatee, regulation hair, buzzed at the sides and longer on top, maybe a shade shorter than Mack, but built -- broad shoulders, solid forearms, wide, strong hands. He had a bright royal blue shirt over his skinsuit, but that didn't hide his collar-flashes. Not that they told Mack anything, because he didn't recognize the color combo at all. Left side of the high tight collar, so he wasn't an ensign or a grunt, but then no ensign or grunt would have dared to be so pally with him. And no one more than two grades up would have bothered.




''Keir,'' he introduced himself, holding out a hand. When Mack took it, his grip was firm but not macho-competitive like some guys.





''Mack. Nav-Mech officer on the exploration crew.''






''Nice to meet you, Mack. I'm one of the new guys on base. This place always so busy?''





''Nope.'' Mack took another sip of caff. ''It's all you new guys cluttering it up.'' He smiled to show that it was mostly a joke, and then more genuinely when Keir winked at him.





''Well, I better get my butt moving if I'm going to report on time -- see you around, Mack.''






And just like that, he was gone.