The one, comforting thing about being captured and processed was the familiarity of the proceedings, and the range of unique, but dangerous looking characters that were always being processed. That comfort and familiarity ended once they were pushed past the threshold of the facility, and he saw that this was not your average penal colony. 

That was one question that was answered for Mephisto. Every nonchalant turn of his head lead to glimpses of bits and pieces that a mining corporation shouldn't need. High tech medical facilities, far too advanced for a slave population, or even the guards who'd be watching said population. Weapons, explosives, enough to supply a decent sized border conflict. 

They came to a halt, and not a second has passed when a prisoners mounting frustration culminated in them rushing for the shield, only to be thrown back a moment later. 

Some chuckled. He didn't. There wasn't anything shameful about a single push for freedom, no matter how futile. 

He remained quiet, and observed. There were a lot of predators in this group. 

Himself included.