<H5>Profile:</H5>
Name: Franx Miltz
Status: Active
Age: 28 when sentenced
Length: 1,76 m.
Weight: 80 kilograms
Eye colour: Green




<H5>Franx's story:</H5>
'Puppet' Franx is, as his nickname suggests, a puppet to the society he was born into to. He was the youngest of three boys, always doing what he was told to do and obviously this led to a lot of trouble - he never seemed to learn from his mistakes.

***

"Oi, boy!" yelled his superviser. He'd chosen the boring job because his parents wanted him to follow their steps - his older borthers Tralx and Harx hadn't - so he gave in and was now permanently tormented by this small, fatty superviser.

He did 'filing'.

"Get up and bring me something to drink and will you finish those two cases!?" The supervisers dark, deep voice didn't help Franx hate him even more.

He did as he was told, as always, and brought the drink he'd been asked to bring and went back to the two cases he was busy putting onto paper and filing them. He did 'lawyer filing': Putting criminals' cases in order before they went on trial. Oh how he hated the job!

"...and, Franx, you won't be going home before you finish those two cases. Understood?" The superviser completed his sentence with a wide smile on his face, but Franx never turned to face him, a big smile of his own stamped all over his face.

He went for the door.

"Now!" yelled the superviser while rising from his leather chair; or at least he tried getting up - his legs were paralyzed.

Franx shot shut the door and headed off to nowhere especially, still a big fat smile on his face. The screams faded as he walked away from the door he would not see again, ever again.

***

The superviser was a mighty man and when he was found dead on his desk, paralyzed from throat and downwards (still alive but un-moveable), the company went after the perpetrator. Who it could be nobody knew, and nobody thought of going and getting Franx, he was the shy one and nobody expected him to have done it.

Franx was caught at the flight in-check, where the he was scanned for eventual weapons, chemicals or anything that might harm another civilization. His hands were full of the most dangerous chemical on his planet called 'Thremnixall'. The superviser happened to have been killed by that chemical.

He was first sentenced to death but the court declared the crime one step down in the criminal-process and sent him to a prison. From the prison he would be sent to another, smaller, prison where he was to serve his time - until he proved he was good enough to be freed.

-The Last Chancers- were waiting for him.