Ars - preview fiction 1

"So you want to sign up for this God forsaken war then, kid?"

Nodding affirmatively the scrawny colony brat threw an awkward smile the way of the female recruiter sitting next to the Sergeant.

Snorting quietly the burly recruiter surveyed the boy before him. Tall, broader shoulders than would be expected for a Martian, and a sanguine appearance that spoke volumes for the boy's childhood.

Cocking an eyebrow to the impertinent smile the female recruiter sighed "Which branch of the armed services are you interested in?"

"Navy, of course."

Of course, the male Sergeant rolled his eyes. Every brat and his dog wanted to join the swabs. Ever since the UET has made martyrs out of the Trafalgar's folly the Navy had had streams of brats coming through it's doors. Cannon fodder really, but this was war, and sentiments were not required in his role.

"Why do you want to join the Navy?" his female colleague spouted from a dog eared piece of card.

"Well it is like this, you see my pop said to me to find a job, and with the whole economy going to pot, I thought I would stand a better chance of seeing the stars if I, well, join the Navy." Taking a deep breath he eagerly looked in the direction of the male Sergeant.

Stifling a yawn the Sergeant picked up an even more dog eared piece of card from a draw in front of him, and droned "In the name of the UET Navy, and the power invested in my by the Ars Bellus I do hereby admit you to the Naval testing facility of Mons Eradni."
Pausing to sip from a glass of water, he eyed the young man. No fear flickered across the youth's eyes, though he knew that would come in time.
"If you are deemed fit for service you will be taken from this place to a training facility appropriate for your chosen career, and from there you will be in the hands of mother Ars. Do you understand?"

More nodding came forth from the young man, and the sergeant had to stifle a laugh this time. Nodding dogs may have completely last century, but the comedic effect of this oaf was priceless.

With the minimum of effort the woman recruiter handed the youth a wad of paperwork. "Okay, you will need to complete this form in triplicate, and we will be marking you on your answers."

Eagerly accepting the sheaf of papers he flicked through the sheets. Each one bore the distinctive hallmark of the Ars Bellus, and directed by the male Sergeant he sat down to begin the rest of his life.

Watching the gleeful boy ponder the questions the Sergeant sadly shook his head. Having been through the mill himself he knew the toll the war would exact, and even on this forsaken part of Mars the war had ripped apart families. The accursed aliens and their devilish weapons were slowly being ground into the ground by the sheer might of the UET military.

For once his smile returned, though the rapacious grin was more great white shark than teddy bear.

"Ars Bellus alle victorius." He softed whispered as he took another sip from his wate. "The arts of war over all victorious."