The First Penitatas - Dysfunctional Family
The knick-knack shop was an obvious target; small, quiet and bound to have hard coin on site. Sakyr had approached the problem of robbing them with the same methodical care she did with all her work, even if the very idea sickened her to the core. It had been easy enough to scout the place, seeing as she was now a Medicalos; a twenty-two year old Kyyreni woman in the body of a six year old boy. A little blond Dawnsider boy wandering the shelves of odds and sods was hardly suspicious, especially when he payed extra special attention to any toys or sweets the vendor had available on the day. Sakyr was careful never to handle anything she didn't actually buy, and even went so far as to scratch and rub every inch of bare fur to get rid of loose follicles before entering. She was going to do this right.
Her entry point was round he back, accessible through a tiny sliver between the shops. To call it an alley was overly generous; it was simply a gap in the wall made by a planning dispute between the Guild of Builders and the Founder's Union. A little child could just barely wriggle through into the vent space beyond, a tight square occupied mostly by a venting box that roared and rumbled like a volcanic flow. Sakyr considered using it as a climbing aid, but the metal looked uncomfortably warm in her thermal sense. Instead, she went with Plan A: suction grips. Light as she was, it was no real trouble to climb up to the back window of the knick-knack shop. It was a narrow vent window designed to open outwards, made of cheap white plastic and glazed with a frosted unit. It looked cheap. Everything in this part of the district looked cheap, that's why they called it Projects; the hastily built box-structures were supposed to have been demolished and replaced long ago, but somehow the men and materials to do it were always needed elsewhere. Lucky for Sakyr, she supposed.
The windows and doors of these cheap buildings were locked by electronic crypt-key systems, almost all of which by now had after-market security devices that would lock them down and sound alarms in the event of brute-force assaults. Unknown to most, to save time and money everything had been keyed to one of twenty codes during construction, and as the daughter of a builder, Sakyr knew those codes. She braced herself on the suction devices and offered up a key-fob, clicking it in front of the window. Nothing happened. She thumbed the device to a new frequency, choosing one out of sequence. It wasn't easy to do with her trembling fingers. She clicked again, and still nothing happened. By now her ears ached with the strain of listening for movement inside. Her limbs felt like rubber, her paws were numb, and it was getting hard to breathe with the pressure in her chest. Every instinct told her to run away, but the sane part of her mind knew that wasn't an option. She had nowhere to go anymore.
The third attempt was rewarded with a clunk of bolts retracting. With a bit of effort and a nearly disastrous tumble back into the thermal vent, Sakyr was able to get a pry-bar in under the lip of the window and ease it open. This was it; the moment she climbed through any pretense of innocence was lost, and she was a criminal. With a stifled shudder the Medicalos hauled herself upwards and through the narrow opening, balancing on the threshold to survey the room before dropping in. It was an office, cool to the thermal and dark to the eye. Directly below her was a desk that would give easy access back to the window. On it was a half-eaten bowl of broth that had long since gone cold; a pair of tablets, one with a nasty scratch on the screen; and a sketch pad left open on a half-decent drawing of a Kyyreni cub done in graphite.
Getting down silently was no easy feat. Sakyr's heart stopped at every thud and bump, imagining the sound must have carried out into the street due to how loud it seemed to her. Yet she was down without interruption, and once her footpaws touched the carpet she began scouting for a lock-box or money stash. Under the desk seemed an obvious place, but it turned up nothing, nor did the nearby filing cabinets or the out of place wooden trunk against the side wall. That turned out to be full of old clothes, yellowing paper notes and an ancient projector device. The papers were illegible to her so she ignored them, wondering briefly if this was stock to sell or personal belongings of the shopkeeper.
To her growing dread it was becoming clear that the only way to find money to steal was to leave the room. The storefront was closed now, but even by the dimmed street-lights it might be possible for someone to spot her skulking in the shadows. No choice, she reasoned, and dared to seek the cash register. She never made it; barely four steps out of the office her ears pricked at the sound of voices, and in her haste to flee back to the window she foolishly banged the office door against the wooden chest. She was half-way out when a hand grasped her legs and pulled hard, slamming her against the desk. She tumbled to the ground, squirming and kicking, too terrified to comprehend what was being shouted at her. The kick to the face, on the other hand, was crystal clear, as were the words that followed; "I've got the little shit. Call the Enforcers."

Kadan was stalling in the stalls. He'd finished his ablutions, but he also knew that once he left the latrines the day's drudge would begin. He had a meeting with the Lord Governor to look forward to, reports to write, check-ins to check and another wave of Penitatas reconfirmations to handle. On top of it all he had to deal with something he'd hoped would be a long way off yet; his first Rejuve criminal.
With a sigh, he surrendered to fate and stepped out to wash his hands and face in the sink. He didn't even get that far before an eager pup assailed him. "Sir! I've got the information on the burglary for you!"
Kadan let out a growl that he caught and turned into a hacking spit. He sloshed his mouth out with the cold water and made a show of blowing his nose, mostly for the sake of keeping the young Enforcer waiting. When there was no more excuse to stall he asked, "what do we know about him?"
"Name of Sakyr, daughter of Talys. Wait, 'daughter'? Ah, right, he's a Medicalos. Or is that 'She's a Medicalos?' Caught breaking and entering, but no sign he... she took anything."
"Does she have a criminal record?" Kadan asked, putting emphasis on 'she' in the hope the young man would pick a damn pronoun and stick to it.
"Not that we can tell," the Enforcer replied. He couldn't have been older than fourteen, with a mane so thin he looked like an up-scaled child, or a blond woman. That last thought gave Kadan pause, given how he'd actually met a girl with such a condition. He shook the idle thought away and focused on what mattered; the way this pup made the Guild look bad. Enforcers were supposed to be tough, and nobody was going to be intimidated by a man who couldn't grow a mane.
"Go fetch Skal for me," Kadan ordered, "I want him down in the cells. Go run some more checks and see if there's any sign of priors or probables."
The cages were crowded, but not as harsh as they used to be. The cots had become a permanent feature, and while they had begun to develop a less than pleasant odour they were more comfortable than the hard floor. The Guild even left a few lights on these days. Sometimes, Kadan wondered if they weren't going soft on them. Sakyr had her own cell, separate from both the Penitatas awaiting masters and the convicts awaiting their fates. There were three of the former and eight of the latter; the Pennys had been here two days already due to lack of takers, meaning the adults criminals were almost certainly bound for the labour camps of Iron Gaol. Kadan personally brought Sakyr out of her cell, choosing not to explain to her where she was going or why. The girl struggled and cried, pleading for mercy, or at least some explanation of her fate. She was brought to an interrogation room, a grim chamber containing a metal chair covered in straps. There was a grill beneath the chair, and the floor was built with the slightest of angles to encourage liquids to flow toward it. Both the chair and the floor had the brown discolourings of old blood stains.
"Strip," Kadan ordered coldly. The girl did not respond, but experience told him it was fear, not defiance. She screamed in terror when her clothes were cut off, but gave no real resistance. Nor did she struggle much when she was lifted into the chair and bound by her wrists and waist. With the suspect restrained, Kadan departed, pausing only to shut off the light and leave her squirming in the dark.
It was only a quarter-hour later when the Enforcers returned. Kadan turned the harsh lights back on and departed once more, leaving behind a child in a blue uniform. The Kyyreni boy gave a shy greeting, raising his hand but keeping back from the bound Medicalos.
"My name is Skal. What's yours?"
"S-Sakyr," the rejuve whimpered, unsure of what to make of this new development.
"I'm a rejuve too. I'm the captain's slave," Skal said by way of introduction, tilting his head up so she could see the collar, "he wanted me to speak to you. I guess he thought you might open up to me."
"I d-din't wanna d-do it!" Sakyr blubbed, losing herself to her childish side as sheer terror overcame her. The rejuve's lip had been split recently, either during or prior to her arrest, and the wound opened when she tried to speak. Skal approached slowly, moving with care so as not to startle the Medicalos. She flinched away from his touch, but settled when she realised he just wanted to dab her face with a handkerchief.
"I get it," he said quietly, "I know what it's like to be desperate, to do things because it feels like you have to. That's my whole life, in fact."
He moved the cloth away to check the injury. It wasn't as bad as he first feared, closing again with minimal pressure. "I want to help you, but I need to ask you some things first. It's important you tell me the truth, because if you don't it'll be both our hides. Have you ever done something like this before?"
Sakyr shook her head urgently, speaking softly to not upset her cut again. "No. I only did it 'cause I c-can't go h-home."
It took no coaxing to get her story out. Sakyr's family were one of the holdouts against the Rejuve Society, although she was adamant they'd never supported the uprising. They just didn't believe in it. Then she'd been stabbed out of nowhere, gutted by a ganger for the sake of a handful of coin and a cheap shoulder bag you could lift from a hundred market booths. She would have died on the street were it not for the emergency response unit's portable rejuvenator. Unfortunately for Sakyr, she had no means to voice her objection to the procedure, and not long after her family disowned her.
Skal stayed with her a while longer, letting her talk herself down into a state of almost calm before excusing himself. A young Enforcer let him out of the cell and he returned to Kadan's office, where the captain was busying himself with other tasks. "Well?" Kadan asked without looking up.
"I think she's telling the truth, that this was her first crime," Skal said.
Kadan gave a half nod, "can't find anything to dispute that. She can spend a day in the pillory to think about what she's done, or tried to do."
"And what happens after that?" Skal asked. "Her family won't take her back."
The captain didn't look up from his pad, but Skal could tell from his stillness that he was no-longer processing whatever was on the screen. After many long seconds he replied, "that's not our concern. We're not here to tell people how to life, we're just here to bring them to heal when they screw up."
"Yeah, sounds about right," Skal replied bitterly.
Kadan looked down his muzzle at the boy, but a chirruping alarm snapped his attention away before a response could be uttered. Kadan snatched up the offending tablet and scowled at the screen. "Fuck! I'm late!"
The captain hastily gathered his belongings into a pack, talking quickly to the room in general as he did so. "Torn, go tell Bast that Medi girl's to spend tomorrow in the stockade. Coordinate with Halgar, his men usually handle public discipline. Ema, make sure central clears the extra allotments for Kas when he gets back. Skal, you stay with him today, give him whatever he needs. Oh, someone chase up a teaching schedule for Skal. Try to get the Pennys out the cages as well!" with that he pushed past Skal and slammed the door behind him, racing off to see the Lord Governor.
There was a quiet lull that followed, filled by a hurt sigh from the young, brown-furred female who worked as the Corrector's admin. "My name is 'Emyl'," she told the door before turning back to her work. Torn, realising he was now technically the senior Corrector on site took a moment to straighten his shirt before leaving in search of Captain Bast. Skal, for want of anything else to do, went back to studying.
It was not long before Kas slunk back into the office. He looked tired and strained, with visible rings under his eyes and a stiffness to his movements that showed a deep, ground-in ache. A look akin to relief spread across his muzzle as he looked around and found Kadan absent, but before he could slip back next door Skal hastened over to him.
"Kas! I was told to keep an eye on you today," Skal rushed his words out, realising too late the error in doing so.
Kas bared his teeth with a spiteful hiss, "I don't need you babysitting me!" the Medicalos shot back, but his second attempt to leave was again thwarted by Torn's timely return. With a tantrum worthy yap of frustration, Kas shoved his way clear and stomped to his own desk, where he theatrically thew himself up onto his chair and attempt to return to work as though nothing had happened. Skal followed as close behind as he could, bearing witness to the whole spectacle and the outraged fit that followed. He didn't know what exactly Kas had seen upon accessing the system, but it sparked off a flurry of howling abuse with a great deal of stamping feet and pounding of fits into the desk, all of which ultimately gave way to indignant, childish crying.
Once bitten, twice warned, Skal resisted the temptation to ask if Kas was okay. He clearly wasn't. He stood awkwardly with his back against the wall, waiting for Kas' emotions to blow over. When they eventually did, at least enough for Kas to appear approachable, the wet-eyed Kyyreni boy whined, "I'm locked out. Forced leave."
An idea came to Skal, one that instantly sent a pulse of psychosomatic pain through his body. He willed away his doubts, remembering Kadan's explicit order, and tried his best to appear tough and rebellious, "Hey... let's fuck this place off. Just... I dunno... go somewhere else."
Kas sniffled, wiped his eyes and nodded over-enthusiastically. "Yeah, good plan. Are you allowed to leave?" he added, glancing over at Skal as he too remembered their last adventure.
"Like I said, I'm under orders to stay with you today and help you out however I can."
"That's not what you said," Kas replied, but there was a slight lift to his tone that suggested he was glad of the company. His ears twitched as he added, "I think I know what I want. Good ol' pick me up to get me back on my game. Let's get to Vices!"

The fact that Kas was elusive as to his intentions made Skal nervous. All he could coax out of the rejuved Enforcer was that he "needed a win", and with growing dread Skal came to believe that meant he was going after Hafn; the boy who, rightly or not, could be blamed for his stay in Black Pit. It was a source of relief when Kas' wandering veered them away from the Sinking Light and off the main thoroughfares. Instead, the boys headed upwards to the gantries that acted as an ill-finished extension to the district. Some of the stores and houses here were tall enough that they could reach the upper levels, whilst others hung from thick support cables, stood on stilts or in rare cases had a true foundation upon which to base themselves. Interior level plates were common enough, especially in less affluent areas like Outer Tenements, but it seemed that the powers that be had decided it simply wasn't worth the effort here in Vices, leaving the tiny upper floor to be accessed by temporary scaffold ramps and with footpaths that ended in sudden drops.
The building that Kas wanted had once been a site worker's office. It was a temporary structure that could be folded up when the work was over, with the heraldry of the Founder's Union still showing through lightly beneath the hastily applied lime-green paint that now adorned the external walls. Fans and a music box provided plenty of background noise as the boys walked in, but it was obvious to both of them what purpose this room now served. Both the working girls and the man on the door gave the pair a confused look as they entered, and Kas gave a slight twitch of nerves under the scrutiny. "You got any clients in right now?" he asked, only just keeping his voice under control.
"Who's asking?" the brawny Kyyreni doorman asked. He was barrel-chested with a heavy metal pipe in easy reach. Kas tapped the symbol on his uniform's breast and the brute eased off.
"I trust everyone here is giving the proper dues to the Guild of Prostitution?" he asked with a smirk, knowing full-well the answer. It was all part of the understanding, an arrangement that he'd enjoyed before. The trick was not to be greedy; the freelancers had to believe that the Enforcers were just asking for a favour, not running a racket.
On cue, one of the girls stepped forward. She was in her late teens, a little too thin, with brown fur and large grey spots all over her body. The largest ones ran down her back, several of which had smaller brown spots inside of them, giving her a truly distinctive patterning. "Why don't we talk about this inside?" she asked, doing a fine job of pretending to be pleasant as she drew back a dividing curtain and waved the boys in.
Behind another curtain was a raised mattress that regular use had worn a slight groove into, one that Skal imagined would have fit the woman perfectly. She unclasped her loincloth and let it slide gracefully down her thigh and onto the floor, glancing back at the boys with a faint smile and a playful twitch of the tail. "I don't usually have clients your age," she said, though nothing in her tone hinted at disapproval.
Kas settled himself on the end of her bed, his pants down around his ankles, and leaned back to give her free access to his boyhood. "What can you do with that mouth besides talk?" he asked with what he intended to be a dominant growl, but the effect was spoiled somewhat by his physical age. Nevertheless, the woman came to him. Skal backed away to the side of the bed to make room for her, watching as she swayed before her young client, drawing attention to her twin pairs of breasts with graceful swirls of her paws, followed by a sensual stroking of her own body as she folded dancer like onto her knees before him. Her tongue brushed across his sac, teasing and caressing with practiced skill, gliding slowly up to his small, flaccid shaft and taking it into her lips. Kas, far from being pleasured, clenched his eyes shut and whimpered, teeth bared as though the ordeal were torture instead of bliss. After just a few moments he barked for her to get away, and as the puzzled woman released his genitals he vaulted from the bed and sped away, barely pausing to make himself decent. She gave a befuddled look to Skal, who merely shrugged and ran after his companion.
It didn't take long to find Kas. He had managed to locate the only safety railing on the plate and was slumped against it, bawling openly and without shame. The sight and sound of it left Skal shaken, for it wasn't a mere howl of pain; the boy was in a clear state of grief and loss, as though he were at a loved one's deathbed. The Penitatas approached carefully, tiptoeing forwards in a low crouch to try and find a way into Kas' space that wouldn't result in him biting Skal's head off, or something far worse. Lost for anything else to say, he settled for a gentle, "I'm here."
Kas' howls died down. He opened his bloodshot eyes and fixed his anguished gaze on Skal. No words came yet, but the aching Medicalos allowed him to come closer, and once in arm's reach Kas threw himself into Skal, squeezing him tight and soaking his shirt with tears. "Hey, it's okay..." Skal said, trying to sound comforting but in truth feeling lost. Gradually, Kas was able to compose himself and pulled away, giving Skal a brief, sheepish look of shame before forcing himself to stand.
"I wanna drink," the boy sniffled before glancing round for a potential watering hole. He gave a brief shiver that had nothing to do with being cold and set off at a brisk pace, leaving Skal to fall in behind. It quickly became clear where Kas was taking them.
"You don't want to go in there," Skal warned as the Sinking Light came into view, causing Kas to turn sharply on his heel. The young Medicalos lacked the strength to be angry, instead looking hurt and miserable. "Look, Kas, the last thing you want right now is to stir people up. Just go home, or at least let's go somewhere else?"
Kas shook his head, "I want to go here," and he marched back towards the bar. Inside it was quiet, mostly deserted save for a Dawnsider couple in the corner and a young Nightsider sat alone playing with cards at a table near the stage. Kas took a stool at he bar itself, leaving Skal to do likewise.
"They gave us spiced milk here during the Winter Hall," Skal suggested, which seemed to meet with Kas' approval. When the man behind the bar came over he ordered two spiced milks, each with a shot of jolth and charged it to the Guild. He was otherwise quiet, barely even glancing toward Skal or anyone else until his drink was half empty.
"Guess it's one perk of being a kid again," he offered at last, sloshing his drink back and forth and watching the off-white liquid run down the inside of the glass. "I lost my stomach for milk quite young, eight or nine I think. This was always a holiday treat."
"I'd never actually had it. Mum had this idea that milk was bad for me, so kept me away from it. Tried to keep me away from cheese or butter as well," Skal flashed a quick smile, hoping he might find an opening, but nothing came of it.
The drinks were reordered, with Kas doubling up on the spirits and downing most of his second while Skal was barely halfway through the first. The gentle sway of the boy indicated the alcohol was having an impact. "I can't take this," he whined.
"Maybe you should ease up then?"
"I mean being a Medicalos," he countered as his hands closed defensively around his glass, "I know I'm not the smartest guy, but I was good at my job. I liked being on the line. Now everything's coming apart and I don't know what to do. I don't know how to do this..."
Skal reached for his second drink, more to keep it away from Kas than a desire to drink it. "Can't you speak to Kadan, or someone? The Guild looks after their own, right? Won't they give you time to grow up again?"
A shuddering gasp escaped Kas' muzzle, "It's not that simple! The Guild provides for us; it feeds us, clothes us, shelters us. It heals us when we're sick and it burns our bodies when we die, but it demands we do our part! I don't know if I can anymore, and there's only three things that can happen if I fail: I get sent to a new duty, I get expelled, or I get Whited."
"What's that?" Skal asked, noting the anxious tone of Kas' voice.
"It means you're broken in the head," Kas explained, "they put you on forced leave until your mind's right again, but it's a death sentence for your career. Nobody who puts on the white fatigues ever really recovers. I could never be an officer after that. I'd probably be given to the Watch and spend the rest of my life in Black Pit or some other hell-hole..."
The memories of Black Pit left him gently sobbing once again, but it bought Skal a chance to move the alcohol away.
"I don't want to join the Watch," the boy whimpered, "I don't really want to be a Corrector either, but I can't say no to the captain. I won't let them write me off as broken..."
"Do you have to stay with them? Could you leave if you wanted to?" Skal asked, to which Kas shook his head sadly.
"I'm not a slave, I can walk out if I want to, but I haven't got anything to my name. I'm only paid two hundred a month and I... I never thought to save any of it. I never thought I'd have to, you know?"
Skal shook his head sadly. Two hundred a month? That would be lucky to cover rent, let alone food or any other expense. He'd never much cared for Guilds, but it seemed now that membership was more like a prison more than a boon. He decided he'd give Kas his drink back. "Sounds to me like you may as well be a slave, the way they treat you."
"They've been good to me, and they will keep on being good to me as long as I do my part. Nobody in this world gets a free ride, you should know that by now." Kas turned to stare at the Penitatas beside him, taking in his prospect uniform and lingering for a moment on the pendant he wore. As he turned back to his drink he muttered, "You don't know how lucky you are."
"How am I at all lucky?" Skal replied, surprised by the off-hand remark.
"You have the captain. You really don't see how much he's done for you, how many breaks and how much help he's given you? I'd give anything to be where you are now."
The rest of Kas' drink was consumed in sullen silence, broken only by the occasional sigh or sniffle. Skal felt lost with how to respond, and his attempts to re-engage the Medicalos got him nowhere. The only thing that broke his sullen facade was when Hafn stepped through the staff door, caught sight of the two Rejuves and promptly fled back from view. At that, Kas clenched his teeth and growled to Skal, "I want to be alone now."
"Kadan said I have to stay with you," he replied firmly, prompting Kas to meet his gaze once more. 
"Please, Skal? I give you my word I won't cause any trouble. I just need to be by myself right now. Please?"
With considerable reluctance, Skal rose from his seat. "I'll be at home. If you get tired of being on your own-" 
"Sure," Kas replied dismissively, waving the Penitatas away. With a lump in his throat and with weak knees at the thought of disobeying Kadan, Skal stepped out of the Sinking Light, only to linger in the doorway, reflecting on his options. Truly abandoning Kas was too much to consider, but he didn't want to stay and upset him. He returned to the tavern and begged to borrow Kas' communicator to call a ride, which allowed him to quietly ask Kadan for help. He did his best to explain what had transpired between them, more to cover his own hide than anything. This done, he bade Kas a false farewell and lingered outside, waiting for Kadan's arrival. It took a long time, more than long enough for fear to give way to boredom, so by the time the captain arrived Skal was thumping his skull against the wall simply to pass the time. Startled to his feet, he fell wordlessly into step with his master and they returned together to the interior.
"Have you seen a Medicalos in Guild colours?" Kadan called out to the Kyyreni behind the bar, who nodded pointed to the corner. Kas had apparently passed out and been left to sleep off the drink in the corner. With a sigh, Kadan lifted him up in his arms and said, "let's take him home. Seems this lad needs a good talking to."

Kas slept through the journey home, awakening with moans and whimpers as Kadan opened his front door. As the trio entered, Kas' mews became pained grunts and he bolted for the latrine, from which quickly followed the sounds of violent retching and quiet sobs. Outside the latrine door, Kadan stood with grim impatience, tail twitching irritably as he considered what to do with the malcontent Medicalos in his care. He looked briefly to Skal, who was trying hard to ignore the unpleasant sounds and had buried his face in a tablet. With a nod to himself, the Kyyreni stepped into Skal's bedroom and retrieved one of the implements of discipline. At last, the sick and miserable boy emerged once more, wiping snot and spittle from his muzzle with the back of his sleeve. Kadan wasted no time in confronting him.
"I'm getting tired of this, Kas," he growled in a tone Skal had come to fear. On the sofa, the Penitatas flinched and tried to sink down further into the seat, "I've tried to help you, to encourage you to take time and get yourself in order, but all you seem to do is bring shame on yourself, on the Guild, on me. Get that uniform off."
It seemed Kas knew what was coming, but he put up no protest. Clumsy from the alcohol still in his system, he managed to make himself bare before Kadan took his arm and dragged him to the living room. With little grace, the six-year-old rejuve was hoisted over the back of the sofa and had his tail pinned against his spine. Before he could protest, or even steady himself, Kadan brought the thin paddle down hard on his exposed rear. The dulled thwack of synthetic wood on the boy's furred rump made Skal jump in shock, for he'd gained enough understanding of spankings to know that by volume alone it was a painful blow. The strangled howl from Kas' maw was just further confirmation.
The paddling was swift and furious, delivered without much elegance. Kadan simply brought the implement into contact with the boy's rear as fast and hard as he could manage, making sure that the hot, throbbing pain of the paddle was felt clearly through any lingering haze of alcohol. Kas squirmed and kicked under Kadan's anger-driven punishment, but there was ultimately little he could do to spare himself. As the flesh beneath his fur was turned a pained, burning red he submitted, clutching at his head as if to hide the tears that flowed freely from his eyes. The Medicalos bawled out his pain and humiliation, giving a series of long, undignified howls that continued even after the paddle finally stopped.
Satisfied the point had been made, Kadan stepped away from the suffering Medicalos and examined his handiwork. The boy's tail dropped protectively over his rear, which only gave a clearer view of his back. Fur had grown over the old wounds, but it was obvious by the lines in the blond boy's fur where the skin beneath had been scarred. The paddle slipped from Kadan's grasp, and he let out a long, pained sigh of his own. With care, he lifted Kas from his perch and set him back on his own footpaws and knelt down to the child's level. He pulled Kas to him, and the sobbing Medicalos accepted the hug without flinching, wrapping his own arms around Kadan's neck.
"It's okay, Kas," he said quietly, trying his best to soothe the boy, "I'm going to help you through this. First, you're going to take a nap and sleep your drink off, then I'll take you back to Billet to collect your things. You're going to stay here with me for a while, until you're back on your feet."
Kas gave no verbal reply, but his grip tightened at the offer of being taken in by his captain. Kadan scritched the back of his head, dragging his nails through the boy's fur in a slow, rhythmic motion as his sobbing stopped and his breathing settled back to normal, but he didn't let the boy go; not until Kas' own grip on him loosened. He took that as a sign to lift the boy up and carry him to the bedroom, an act that caused a brief yelp of discomfort due to the pressure of Kadan's arm against his tender backside. "Get some sleep now, I'll make you something to eat when you wake up," Kadan promised.
Kas' reply was barely a murmur, but Kadan was sure he'd said, "thank you papa."
Skal was careful not to meet Kadan's eye as he returned from the bedroom and made straight for the kitchen. The Penitatas listened as Kadan busied himself, but the most obvious sound to the boy was that of a glass bottle being removed from the refrigerator, opened and emptied. There was an awfully long pause between the cap clattering onto the floor and the thud of the bottle on the worktop. His stomach knotted when Kadan at last summoned him, and with ears flattened to his skull he crept into the kitchen. Sure enough, a litre of jolth sat on the counter, already a quarter empty. Kadan was heating a pan. He cracked an egg on the side, let the contents slop into the hot metal and sniffed the results. Apparently satisfied, he started cracking more. Without looking round he asked, "do you think of me as a father?"
"No?" Skal replied, caught off guard by the question.
"Good... that's good. I've never wanted to be one," Kadan replied in a melancholic tone as he fished bits of shell out of his pan and flicked them in the general direction of the bin.
Gaining a little confidence, Skal pressed on, "I don't think of you as a father, but sometimes I wish I could. When we sleep together, when I'm drifting off or before I'm properly awake, I can pretend I'm with someone who cares. I-I mean-"
"I know what you mean," Kadan answered flatly, cutting the boy's explanation off before it could be made. "Better to be with anyone than alone, right?"
"Right," Skal replied, grateful for the escape from his own clumsy answer.
Kadan paused his cooking to take another too-long pull of spirits. "Have you ever stopped and wondered... I mean... nevermind," he shook off whatever thought was bouncing around in his head and focused on cooking, mixing vegetable strips and fatty meat into the pan and stirring with far more force than was needed. Whenever he had a hand free it would briefly twitch towards the bottle before finding something else to grasp.
"Is this about what I told you earlier? About Kas being jealous of me?" Skal probed, which prompted Kadan to pause his furious cooking methods.
"I guess it is," he conceded, flashing Skal on the briefest of glances, "Hard as this must be for you to believe, I don't like the idea of people hurting kids. That's what I tell myself, but I seem to be doing a damn fine job of hurting you two. You're supposed to suffer, but I know I've put you through more than your share at times. I've tried to make that right. You know that, right?"
"I do," Skal answered honestly.
Kadan seemed to take some comfort in Skal's reply. He took his mixture off the heat and helped himself to another mouthful of jolth. "Thing is... I know what's it's like to be a kid who fell through the cracks. I had a father once, and a mother, just like everyone else. Had a twin sister too: Seyn. When we were young, probably about as old as you are now, our mother sold us to a man named Tavjar. He was wealthy, well-connected, as close to nobility as you can get without actually being noble. The kind of man who gets to thinking he can do what he likes to other people."
The rather messy mixture of egg, veg and meat was bowled up and offered to Skal, who took it and sat himself down to eat as Kadan continued his confession, "He treated us badly. He worked us too hard, beat us too hard, and very quickly took a liking to Seyn. The things he did to her don't bare repeating. It went on for years, with neither of us able to do anything to stop him and nobody willing to help. Then, when I was around nine, he suddenly gets rid of me. Bundles me out of his home in the middle of the night and dumps me into the cages of the Slavers. The Guild bought me, and that's how I ultimately came to be here."
"What happened to Seyn?" Skal asked, already guessing by his master's tone what the answer would be.
"She died. Tavjar killed her, probably that very night. He got rid of me so nobody else would know. I found out later, much later, that he'd dumped her body in the waste tunnels. For years, all I cared about was finding a way to get Seyn back, and when I couldn't find any sign of her that desire became a need for revenge. I got it in the end; almost cost me everything, but I beat the confession out of that bastard, and then I tore his fucking throat out!"
Kadan's fingers clenched into a claw at the memory. His eyes clenched shut and teeth ground together as anger and bitter pain physically shook him. It took far too long for his body to relax again for Skal's liking, but when he finally did the Enforcer looked at Skal, eyes dilated and slightly unfocused from the rapid consumption of spirits, and there seemed genuine remorse there. "I know I should be the last person to treat a slave like shit, but I guess fucking people up is all I've ever been good at."
"You tried to tell me this before, didn't you?" Skal asked, reflecting on various times when Kadan was blind drunk and rambling about things the boy couldn't follow.
"Probably," Kadan answered with a nod as he finally began eating, "the thing that worries me is I know Kas looks up to me. I know a lot of them do, especially the orphans and slaves; the Guild has a lot of those, believe me. They all love the idea that the Guild can take a man who has nothing, a man who's worthless, and make him great. I'm not sure they'd feel that way if they knew the things I'd done."
The captain briefly glanced at the bottle on the worktop, and seemed for a moment to be glad he'd left it out of reach, "are you going to be okay with Kas staying here?"
"Yes sir," Skal replied, which caused Kadan to give a weary sigh at his tone.
"I didn't mean it like that. I want to know how you feel about having to share a home with him."
Skal gave the question a little more thought, "we mostly get along. I don't want to be his slave though. Bad enough... him being above me."
"Good save," Kadan flashed a brief, but genuine smile, "no, he's not going to have any power over you like that. I would like you to be friends, if only because you two being enemies makes everything else a pain in the arse. Try to stay on his good side, but don't be afraid to smack him into line if he needs it. Drag him into line," he corrected himself.
"I won't be any trouble," Skal assured his master, which earned him an amused chuckle.
"Don't make promises you can't keep, it's a bad habit," Kadan said with a smirk as he cleared the bowls, "mind helping me tidy up while the princess is napping?"
They busied themselves for an hour before Kas was roused from his sleep, still the worse for wear and now suffering from a terrible headache. True to his word, Kadan took the Medicalos to fetch his belongings and return them to the captain's residence. In the end, they brought back everything Kas owned, which mostly consisted of civilian clothes, a few trinkets and mementos, and basic essentials like a cutlery case and washing products. It was, in Skal's estimation, another sad indictment against the Enforcer's Guild that someone who served them all their lives had so little to call his own. Without ever saying so, all three parties agreed that Skal's bedroom would now belong to Kas; Skal had shared Kadan's bed so often that neither felt the need to ask for or offer the invitation anymore.
The question of sleeping arrangements came up again later that evening. Kas and Skal had settled into playing together, allowing the youthful impulses of their rejuvenated bodies to take over and provide simple amusement, free of the clutter and concern of an adult's mind. Kadan had left them alone, called away by duty again. As the boys tired, and Kas' yawns and growing lethargy made it clear he intended to go to bed, he confessed to Skal, "I don't really want to sleep alone."
After a little thought, Skal agreed. It felt strange to climb into the small bed with someone else, at least someone who wasn't Sam. He settled into his usual spot, albeit without the second pillow clutched to his stomach; that he had to give up for Kas' sake. Sharing the room, sharing the home with the another boy meant a little less privacy, and he worried how that might impact the semi-secretive relationship he had with his Penitatas girlfriend. For the time being, all he could do was enjoy the simple pleasure of another's warmth against his back. As he drifted off, he tried to pretend it was Sam's arm gently wrapped around him.