The whole waiting time had Tigranes' heart beating madly in his chest as if it would escape through his throat. What if they didn't accept him? What if his crime was judged too heinous for redemption? What if he hadn't volunteered fast enough? Suddenly the possibility of losing his only shot at redemption seemed all too real and all that Tigranes could do was recite the litany of St. Attal the Miner in silence to keep himself from panicking.

Then the guards came and Tigranes had never felt so relieved to be shouted at. He was in the Legion now, no matter what happened from this point on, at least he had managed to snatch this chance of redemption and salvation, as slim as it prove to be. For the first time in years he dared to hope.

The processing wasn't pleasant by any measure of the word. But Tigranes was still riding that wave of warm and fuzzy feelings that came when the hope of escaping this hellhole became a reality. And so he continued, dripping wet and shivering slightly due to the cold water as he approached the table with a quartermaster that was more machine than man by this point.

"Name and crime." The servitor asked in its mechanic monotone.

"Tigranes, heretical dealings and murder." The former miner replied promptly as he forced himself to stop fidgeting in his eagerness to get this whole thing over with.

Tigranes obeyed the order to proceed with an almost spring in his step. He took the gear handed to him without protest, even if the flak armor looked like it had seen more battles than him, struggling to put everything inside the rucksack while trying to keep up his pace, take the next set of equipment and not slow down the line behind him.

Once he got to the last table Tigranes offered no resistance. Not that he liked the idea of having an explosive conveniently placed right below his head. But it was just standard protocol, and he was too far to back down now. Not that he thought he could, even if he wished. Besides, it wasn't like he was actually planning to give them any reason to activate the collar.

And then someone further along tried to shoot the quartermaster. The resulting explosion showered Tigranes with his leftover. And for one mad second the prisoner thought he was back in Hayk when Boran had her head blown off by a Mihranid sniper. He had no time for that however as he shook the memories away and continued onward, wondering when he would have the time to finally put on some clothes. The idea of being exposed in the middle of   so many maniacs wasn't something that appealed to him.

When he was eventually shoved into the hangar Tigranes seized the opportunity to finally dress himself. By the time his name was finally called, Tigranes, now officially a Penal Legionnaire, had had the time to at least put the jumpsuit on.