Tigranes liked to think he was getting used to the life in the penal colony. Because, when you looked at it in a certain way, it was almost like life back home. Before the war, that is. After all, he still woke up in the early hours of the morning and ate whatever was available before making his way to one of the mining sites to toil away for most of the day in cramped, dangerous tunnels and shafts. It was almost like home, if he squinted the right way.

Except it really wasn't. Because no matter how bad things got back in Hayk VII, at least he wasn't in the middle of thieves, heretics, rapists and murderers. At least back home the food wasn't this tasteless gruel. At least back home the water didn't smell funny. At least back home the air wasn't THIS bad. And most important, at least back home Tigranes didn't had to deal with the absolute scum of Mankind trying to stab him in the kidneys or Holy Emperor knows what else.

But then again, was he any better? Hadn't he taken up arms in support of a filthy heretic against the Emperor-appointed overlord of his world? Wasn't he deserving of punishment just as the rest of the inmates in this dreaded place? Sure, he could plead and argue about his duty to his lord and his ignorance of the happenings in the halls of power. But that didn't change his crime. No matter that he was just following orders like any good citizen ought to do, because in the end, these orders were streaming down from a heretic.

Tigranes shook his head, it would do no good to brood over it. He was but a serf, if he was here then it was because the Emperor was punishing him for his crimes. And he would bear it in quiet obsequiousness like any faithful servant. The former miner just turned his attention back to the gruel. Better to finish it soon and get back to work. Keep quiet and stay low, don't attract attention. That had worked reasonably well so far for Tigranes.

His attention, however, was caught by the rambling madman on the other end of the table. Tigranes looked at the man, feeling a mix of pity and disgust. Someone that broken ought to have had received the Emperor's Mercy long ago. Or maybe, that was the Emperor's punishments for his own crimes? Strip him of his mind and faculties, leaving a broken, giggling husk behind to atone for whatever crimes he committed?

Tigranes stopped himself again. Turning back his attention to the gruel. Ignoring the mad ramblings or the other prisoners sharing his table. Even though he couldn't help but notice how a couple of them had that same air about them as the officers of the Royal Army back home.

Then he saw the Captain up on the catwalks. Now that one looked like an officer alright. Could almost pass for a Colonel back home. Just add a couple of tattoos to identify his bloodline and the appropriate trappings and decorations that came with the rank. Tigranes reasoning continued. Chances were, he thought, that this many people from the Militarum were here, was because perhaps the higher ups were going to raise a Penal Legion out of Redemption? It would certainly fit with the rumors running wild around the ex-soldiers in the camps. About the newest campaign routes falling near the planet.

If that were indeed true, maybe this could be Tigranes' chance to truly redeem himself? Surely that was the Emperor's way of giving him a better chance for redemption? Whatever he was planning however, was interrupted by the madman attacking the Captain.

Tigranes could not stop himself, the hideous wretch had probably killed them all and didn't even knew what he was doing. In his anger he shouted at the offending prisoner, throwing his own tray at him.