The cold room of the recruitment center wasn't the prettiest thing in the galaxy, but then those in it weren't there to do pretty things. The harsh ceiling lights illuminated a poster of an Republic soldier, fist in the air, with the caption "Join the fight for freedom!" With a glimpse over those waiting in the center, no one would've thought they were here to become Republic soldiers; one female juvenile deliquent, several ragged good old boys that looked like they'd just been tossed from a bar and decided to head into the center together, a fashionably dressed Mrlssi that could've been a lawyer, and one young, brooding human male.

The recruiter, on the contrary, stereotyped the New Republic military. A man on the lesser end of thirty with matted hair and a rakish grin. The only thing ceremonial about him was the uniform he wore. The juvenile deliquent eyed the uniform jealously, while giving the recruiter a stare that seemed to say "I'm getting one of those, I don't care what I have to do. And no one will stop me." Perhaps some of them could be New Republic soldiers after all. Basic would sort them out.

"Next," called the recruiter. A good old boy stepped up to the counter. The recruiter stared at him for a moment. "You want to be a soldier in the Republic?"

"Tha's righ'," said the good old boy with a thick accent.

"Excellent," the recruiter grabbed a stack of folders and let them fall with a thunk in front of the good ol' boy. "I hope paperwork doesn't intimidate you," he flashed the stereotypical disarmingly dangerous smile. "There's a room down the hallway to your left where you'll be tested for fitness and a background check. Can't have any Imperial spies joining up!"

"Uh, okay," the ol' boy took the stack of flimsiplast and followed the indicated route.

"Next!"

The Mrlss stared nervously as another member was removed from their small gathering. He drywashed his clawed digits and made clucking noises to himself. Every time the call "Next!" came the feathers across his body would flare up in startlement, settling back down when he realized it wasn't his time… yet. The young human watched the Mrlssi from the corner of his eye, until finally he spoke up.

"You okay there?" his olive-brown eyes focusing with concerned intensity on the Mrlssi.

Startled the Mrlssi stared at him for a moment, "What? Oh, yes, yes I'm quite alright. It's a bad habit of our species that we are, how do you say… flighty? Aha, ha, bad joke yes I know." The avian's voice was grating in Basic, much as expected with the encumbrance of a beak. "I'm sorry, but did I detect a Tapani accent in your voice? It's been so many years… I could be mistaken, but I thought, I thought… My name is Sasevi Saiyan. Most humans prefer to call me Sevi."

The young human's eyes became sharp with sorrow and he winced at the name Tapani, "Huh, what are the odds? A Mrlsst… Yeah, I'm from Tapani… or was. Name's Mikhail… Mikhail Seraph."

"Oh, how wonderful! Pleased to meet you, Mikhail Seraph. Are you from the Freeworlds?"

Mikhail made a disgusted sound, "No, Sevi, I'm from Pelagia… Pelagon itself actually, or was at least. And no, I wasn't a noblemen, just a commoner."

"P-pelagon, oh, Seraph…" the Mrlssi's eyes widened in recognition.

"Just my luck," muttered Mikhail darkly to himself, then he turned an accusatory eye on the Mrlssi. "Where you at the trial?"

"I was on Pelagon during a week of it, I had the displeasure of seeing a few of the Prosecutor's opening remarks." The Mrlssi's voice became firmer, more confident. The military might be new to him, but he could handle law and politics. His feathers drooped sadly at Mikhail's expression, "I thought I recognized you. We all thought you were innocent you know."

Mikhail stared at the ground. "Yeah, well, thanks… I guess. Not much you can do when the aristocracy are involved…. even my father. I mean, he didn't have a choice, right? I don't blame him…" the bitterness in his voice belied his words. His eyes narrowed as he looked back up at Sevi. "How'd you remember that, are you in the lawfield? Most people have forgotten by now… I hope."

"Well, yes, sort of, I'm actually a journalist. I wrote an article in the Freeworlds Today on the trial, condemning it and your sentence to exile. Absolutely preposterous that someone like you could be accused of murdering that woman…and then sentenced by your own father, Judge Seraph." An old anger burned in the Mrlssi's eyes. "A great tragedy, a great tragedy."

"Yeah, well… I got over it," said Mikhail glumly, ignoring the skeptical look Sevi gave him. "Spent a good couple of years in exile getting over it. I worked in the medical field on Fondor for a bit as a paramedic… But I -ah… ran into some Imperial trouble. Not a big fan of the Imps," he stopped and gave Sevi a crooked grin caused by the dead nerves in his lower lip. "So I came here…"

Sasevi nodded. "It is much the same for me. Imperials have no respect for the freedom of the press."

"But the New Republic Army?"

Sasevi shrugged, "What can I say? The posters got to me."

Mikhail chuckled and shook his head. Crazy avian.

"Next!"

The young Tapani stood, smiling at the avian. "I'll see you around, Sevi. Take care of yourself, alright?"

"Goodbye, Mikhail Seraph. May you shine brightly."

Mikhail frowned as he walked away. Shine brightly? Probably just a Mrlssi farewell, still… Mikhail couldn't shake a warm feeling of… rightness as he headed towards the recruiter. Was he finally on the path of good? It always seemed a struggle for him. He just wanted to help people, but the help he gave always landed himself in a huge pile of junk that blackened his name. Maybe this time would be different.

Twenty minutes - and twenty sheets of flimsiplast - later, Mikhail found himself hooked up to lie detector as they ran through a background check. The man handling the equipment was one of the recruiters, but sitting in the corner was a robed personage, with a hood obscuring their face. He quickly passed through all the Imperial spy testing, only when they got to the criminal records was there trouble.

"Any criminal history?"

Mikhail's face contorted with conflicting emotions. He believed he was innocent, but that didn't matter as he did have a criminal history. He knew this was coming. Why was it so hard to tell the truth?

"Yes," he said finally. "Exiled from Pelagia on the charge of murder."

The recruiter stared at him for a long moment before opening his mouth to speak,

"Look, I'm sorry, but we don't accept criminals and if you're from Tapani… well, I'm sorry but you cannot join."

"The hell I can't," growled Mikhail as he rose from his chair and tore off the lie detector pads. "Coulda' saved me the trouble and told me twenty sheets of flimsiplast ago."

The recruiter shrugged, "Sorry kid, can't help you."

"Yeah? Whatever," Mikhail finished ripping off the lie detector restraints and stalked from the room, though his manner was more resigned than angry.

"Hey, wait!"

Mikhail spun on his heel and stared at the recruiter, "What?"

"You could try to the starfighter corps, they've been known to accept… more colorful characters."

Mikhail snorted and gave the recruiter a half smile, "Do they? Well I guess I better take a look, thanks… I guess."

"Good luck!" called the recruiter, but Mikhail was already out the door.

Starfighter Corps… Mikhail had never really considered being a fighter pilot. He had only ever worked in a hospital. He'd thought he might've been able to continue that route in the army, but that door had been shut on him rather quickly. Sure,  he'd been in the cockpit of the classic Tapani starfighter, the Manta-Class assault fighter. But he'd never been in combat with it before.

The more he thought about it the more dejected he became until he found that he had wandered of to the stairs in front of some sort of temple. He sat down. Life seemed to enjoy slamming doors in his face, when all he wanted to do was help. Why?

He hoped that with his actions he could wash away the stains of his past. All he wanted was a blank slate, a place to start over again without everything that had happened to him. He didn't want to save lives one at a time anymore. He knew he could do more than that. But how?…. that was the question.
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