IV: MARS

cheer tryouts.

Pluto swore he saw steam coming out of Sol's ears when they walked in. But he's seen her angrier, so he looked her in the eye and shot her a sly smile as he curtsied.
"Your heinous, here is the boy you requested."
Neptune tried to hold in a laugh and Mars snickered from where he was sitting. Gaia looked at him wide-eyed and muttered shut up.
Sol managed to unclench her jaw enough to speak through gritted teeth.
"Sit. Down. I'll deal with this later."

***
Pluto never wanted to skip to an assbeating until now. Anything was better than this. They had watched 54 applicants come into this room and show them mediocre abilities. Even the most promising applicant— a guy who had a laser eye— had a gigantic drawback. After almost taking off Jupiter's head, it was realized that he had terrible depth perception and tunnel vision. Pluto was told to not make any snarky remarks so he just sat with his head banging on the table. The other patrons weren't doing too well either. Mercury had gotten restless after the 3rd contestant and has since then been kicking his legs under the table or bouncing his leg. Sol gave up on telling him to sit still after her 5th attempt. Jupiter was trying not to fall asleep, and Mars was trying to keep him awake by slamming his hand down on the table every time he nodded off. To be frank, it was a surprise Mars had not blown up yet. Even when the girl with three faces on one head called him a rat eater with all three of her mouths. He wanted to tear them into one mouth but Jupiter held him back. He swore this was the most bored he's ever been. They cycled through another 6 contestants and still had no luck. Mars was about the throw the towel in when, as if it was on cue, Jupiter spoke up.
"Hey buddy, looks like number 60 is right up your alley!"
"Why do you say that?"
"'Cause of your knife kink," Jupiter said, handing him the file.
"I don't have a knife kink!"
"What's a knife kink?" Mercury asked.
Sol put her head in her hands. Venus took the liberty of silencing him. Moments later, Number 60 walked in. He was tall and broad shouldered.
"Please state your name, where you're from, and your Earth orbital age." said Sol.
Without any expression Number 60 responded.
"Aland. Third quadrant, planet BR46. 19 years of age."
"Is there a typo on this thing? It says 'Aland'" Mars asked Sol, handing her the file.
"No it's correct. Alan with a D." He answered casually.
"Okay Alan with a D, show us your little magic trick." Pluto said from the end of the table.
Aland only sent him a glance before he cracked his knuckles. The ten of them waited on the edge of their seats. A shudder ran up his spine and when he rolled his shoulders back there were gasps from across the table. Blades had come out of his body. From his forearms, the palm of his hands, neck, spine; even his jawline showed a glint of silver.
"Well shit!" Pluto laughed, "I'd shake your hand but..."
Sol cut him off.
"How are you able to do that?"
"I had them surgically implanted when I was 15."
The blades retracted back into his skin and left only a slight indication of where they were hiding.
"That must have been expensive. And it's quite a risky operation, especially for a 15 year old."
He didn't say anything, just nodded in response.
Not a big talker, Pluto thought.

"I normally wouldn't say this but," Sol started, "If you pass the physical exam, you'll be recruited in no time."