The heat was making Xander's vision swim as he crossed the last sand dune, the camel he was riding felt like it was made out of nothing but shoulder blades, and threatened to dislodge him at any point.
The white stonewalls of the old Fort stood in stark contrast to the bright blue sky and golden sand. A pair of underpants was flying from the flagpole above the gate, a sure sign that he'd reached his destination.
He knocked on the wooden doors until a face appeared on the other side
"Yes?" The rather short and vacant looking man on the other side asked.
"Is this the Klatchian Foreign Legion?" Xander asked.
"Ah, he said, you've got me there. Hang on a moment." The other man disappeared for a few minuets, "Yes, it appears we are the... the... what was that again? Right, got it... the Klatchian Foreign Legion. Yes. What was it you were wanting?"
"I'd like to join; I have some things I'd rather forget."
"Join? Join what?"
"Klatchian Foreign Legion…"
"Where's that?" The guard asked. Xander could see someone lean close to the other man and whisper something in his ear. "Oh. Right. Sorry. Yes, that's us."
The gate swung open, showing Xander in a layer of sand.
"What's your name, soldier?" The Sergeant asked
"Um…" Xander wondered if giving his real name was a good idea: the others where sure to be looking for him by this point, and would use the Watchers Councils vast resources to track him down.
"You don't have to say, actually." The Sergeant smiled absentmindedly, "That's what the... the…
"Klatchian Foreign Legion?"
"...is all about. People join to... to... with your mind, you know, when you can't... things that happened..."
"That's the one! Right. I'm...Right," The Sergeant blinked, "Err. It's a twenty-year tour, legionary. I hope you're man enough for it.
"I like it already…" Xander saluted happily as the gate closed on his old life.