The Captain spoke of volunteering and crusades and that was all Octavia needed to hear. She had heard enough rousing speeches in her time. The one thing that did stand out was the madman, Hall, provoking the guards enough to warrant a pretty severe beating. Tavia watched in indifference as the guards rained blows down on him until they decided he'd had enough and began to drag him off to volunteer. Once the Captain was done with his speech, quite a few inmates got up and shuffled off towards the East Wing. Was that out of fervour for the Crusade or merely at a chance for some sense of freedom? Octavia wondered as she stood up and joined the group of inmates making their way through the slate-grey hallway. 

At the end of the corridor, in the intake area, there was a group of guards who had set up a table and were taking volunteers. They had a data-slate and were looking over various prisoners' files for whatever reason. Octavia joined the queue and watched as more prisoners joined behind her. She looked over the people who were sitting down further in the room. There was a giant brick wall of a man, a smaller hiver girl, and even Hall, lying in a bloody heap on the ground. Hall sat up and started babbling mindlessly at the girl about something before he began chanting in a manner that mocked the Emperor's Own Ecclesiarchy. Octavia shook her head. There was no hope for that one. Finally it was her turn. 

The guard looked at her puzzled when she didn't say anything. 

Octavia pointed to the scar on her throat and then pointed to the number emblazoned on her jumpsuit. The guard tapped on his data-slate and then looked up, "Octavia Westerlund? Accused of deserting the Guard?" 

Octavia nodded grimly. 

"Glad to see you've had a change of heart. Go on through." The guard added with chuckle. Octavia pursed her lips and went to sit down on an unoccupied section of bench. Her scars tingled in annoyance as she watched the trickle of inmates entering turned into a mass. There were a lot more volunteers than she had initially guessed there would be. Octavia suddenly found a inmate seated next to her, he looked a bit roughed up, no doubt dragged in here by the wave of inmates. He was tall and pale and Octavia vaguely recognised him as some sort of prison doctor. In between ragged intakes of air he managed to ask her for a lho-stick. Octavia didn't smoke regularly but they were common prison currency so she had stashed a few in her breast pocket. Having a doctor owe you something was always a good idea, something she learned in the Guard, so she pulled out a lho-stick and handed it to the pale man.