Skal had been given the day to himself, so Kas took him trespassing.
The target was an industrial lot in North Tenements. As was often the case with Kas' adventures, the boy was tight-lipped as to why he wanted to sneak inside this particular lot. He was equally vague on how they would accomplish it, but upon arrival the plan became increasingly clear. The first step was to sneak into an alleyway and climb up onto a skip full of cardboard and other waste packaging; from there, it was possible to find a finger-hold in the crumbling plaster of the lot's wall and clamber up onto the smooth capping stones. Skal followed the Medicalos, but rather than dropping into the lot, Kas scampered along the wall before turning to the building opposite and performing a harrowing leap towards an emergency escape ladder. The thunderous clang of his impact was almost as heart-stopping as the jump itself, and when it came Skal's turn he almost missed. His fingertips barely found purchase on the bottom rung and for a long while he hung there, to scared to cry out. The adrenaline surge gave him the strength to haul himself up and begin the long climb to meet Kas at the top.
"Well that's not good. This was the easy part," Kas said with a light chuckle. The escape ladder topped out five floors up, the narrow, open platform sat next to a covered walkway of glass and steel, and across a tiny gap there was a grate running along the lower edge of the walkway. Kas perched on the grate, holding a steel girder for balance as Skal took a moment to catch his breath.
Walking along the outside of the walkway, the boys were taken to colossal cylinder clad in metal sheeting. Kas squeezed behind the metalwork and into a cavity made up of red-painted girders and yellowish scaffolding. Leaning on the inner wall to help their balance, the boys worked their way along towards the south face of the building. Kas glanced up at every girder, looking for something, but not finding it until his fourth attempt. With an excited gesture he waved Skal to a halt before bracing his feet against the red metal, pushing both hands on the inner wall and, face down, walked himself upwards. "Come on then!" he called back.
Heart hammering in his chest, Skal followed the older boy's example. The metal was cold to the touch and the protective paint made it smooth enough that every time he lifted a paw to move it felt as though the others were going to slip clean off. The idea of slamming down onto a thick metal bar was unpleasant, but that was a blessing compared to what would happen if he missed.
After a lifetime of climbing, with limbs burning and palms running with sweat, Skal's fingers brushed what felt like a girder bar. He glanced up, confirming his suspicion, and squatting in the gap was Kas. "Great work! Now, grab the bar and kick off. This is the last hurdle."
Skal nodded, wiping each palm on the opposite sleeve before taking as firm a hold as he could manage. He clenched his eyes shut and kicked off, curling up so his footpaws hit the wall. It took him a few moments to confirm he wasn't falling to his death, and as he opened his eyes he saw that he was still holding the bar. Kas had both wrists gripped firmly, and on a count of four he hauled himself up into the crawlspace.
"I... oh Gods... why did we do this?" Skal gasped, his jaw shuddering from the adrenal overload. Kas had already turned away. The boy walked at a crouch in the dim space towards a pale blue light, and Skal was drawn, moth like, towards it.
He came to a halt beside Kas, who was peering down through a large glass floor. The "floor", it turned out, was the top of an aquatic tank, lit from above by the same kind of strip lights found in agricultural plots. Within the tank, and currently transfixing Kas' attention, were fish. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of fish. They were almost circular, with a grey hue that gained a rainbow shimmer when the light caught them right. They had seven fins and a wide 'mouth' that resembled a cartilage sieve. They swarmed together, an unending, rolling ball of life. As they watched, a mechanical arm swung along the top of the tank and pumped out clouds of thick green sludge, which drove the shoal into a feeding frenzy. In mere minutes, the water was clear again - clear of everything save the fish.
"Never seen a live one before," Skal whispered in awe, craning over the edge of their hiding place to get a closer look. If the fish were aware of his presence, they showed no sign.
"The tank is pretty full. They'll probably sweep it with the net soon," Kas said quietly as he settled onto his stomach next to Skal, "they use a net, I think. The young fish can slip out of the net, but the adults get caught and wind up as dinner."
The words passed over Skal's head, lost as he was in the moment. His fingers brushed across the glass top of the tank, digits wriggling in an effort to make the shoal notice him. He was only snapped out of his trance when Kas tapped him on the shoulder, and he raised his head to find a strip of jerky being offered to him.
"So, you and your little friend, are you two... together?" Kas asked between mouthfuls of chewy meat. When Skal gave a shy nod in reply, he asked, "does the Captain know?"
"He does. He's okay with it." Skal confirmed.
"Really? Would have imagined he'd shut that down pretty fast," the Medicalos chewed in thoughtful silence for a moment before adding, "although, I have to admit, I have had the urge to find someone 'my own age', if you get me."
Skal nodded, "I think it's like... I was nine or ten when I had my first crush, and that was with a girl about my age. When I first felt the Urge at twelve, I wanted my first time to be with a girl who was twelve too, you know? We might have these feelings younger than we should, being Rejuves, but our bodies or minds are still using the same rules as when we grew up the first time, so we want to be with a Rejuve our own physical age."
"You should write all this stuff down, you could be a leading thinker on Rejuve psychology," Kas said with a grin. He washed down the last of his meal with a bottle of water before steering to a new subject, "what have you heard about this new Penny School?"
"Not much. Kadan said that Lady Tavik was involved somehow, which I guess makes it important. But school's going to be tough for me either way, right? I can't imagine the Guild school goes easy on the kids."
"They don't, but it's not as bad as you might think," Kas replied, casting his mind back to his days of training, "the Guild isn't out to make you miserable for the sake of it, and as long as they can see you're giving it your all they'll ease off where and when you need it. Just don't go in thinking you can screw around, or you'll get the rod!"
Skal winced, having already decided he'd had more than enough discipline for one childhood. "Yeah, I'll skip on that. Bad enough getting three unearned spankings a week."
Kas chuckled, "you get one a week at most! Maybe I need to start reminding Kadan he's not paddling that backside often enough."
"Oh come on!" Skal protested as Kas crawled towards him, a playfully wicked grin spread across his muzzle. Without warning, the Medicalos sprang forward and pinned Skal to the ground with a theatrical growl.
"Oh I think I will tell," Kas chuckled as he leaned in close to Skal's ear, "Of course, you could always buy my silence? I'm sure-"
Kas' head snapped up, as did Skal's. Whether the sound they'd both heard was footsteps or some industrial process, neither could be sure. However, neither wanted to find out. Kas freed Skal and ushered him to their entry point, quickly packing up what little evidence they'd left behind before joining him at the rim of the platform. "I'll go first, just do what I do and you'll be fine."
Skal nodded, watching closely how Kas lowered himself off the ledge, then kicked off the wall to plant his feet on the girder and begin the long shuffle down. He cast one last, wistful look towards the fish tank, but from his current position all he could see was a faint, rippling reflection of the ceiling light. "So long, little fishies," he whispered, and began the terrifying descent.

The school turned out to be in Darkside, much to the regret of most of the Penitatas. The dark, cold region of The City was uncomfortable for Dawnsiders without thick clothing, and as the majority had spent their entire lives under the city's dome they had never had a need for such attire. For the Daysiders it was even worse; evolution had adapted them for sweltering jungles and oven-baked desert, giving them precious little tolerance for the cold and, by Kyyreni standards, no night vision. Thankfully, the school building itself turned out to be both warm and bright, and Skal arrived to find dozens of Rejuves gathering in a spacious, spartan lobby area; some familiar, others strangers.
A Nightsider came to greet them. He was tall for his kind, tall for any Kyyreni, in fact. He was broad shouldered, and his light-blue shirt and trousers clung to his body in a way that hinted as a powerful physique beneath. His fur was thick, obsidian black and trimmed short. His mane was thick with hints of grey in the roots, and it started as a thin crest at his forehead before splitting between the mane proper and a pair of long, thin facial growths than ran along the jawbone. His eyes were overly wide and slate grey, although they were quickly hidden as he stepped amongst the Penitatas and pulled a thick pair of goggles down over his eyes and thermal-pads. Their greenish, semi-reflective surface made it hard to guess which way his attention was focused at any given moment. "The following Penitatas are to enter the room behind me; Arkn, Ayda, Banat son of Ban, Bozma, Eneyd, Hafn, Holdin, Lyy, Ros - no, not you, you - Samantha, and Skal."
Skal looked around at the announcement of Sam's name, and caught sight of her hiding in the corner. Called out, she appeared timid at first, but upon realising Skal was also with her the blonde Kyyreni girl found fresh confidence and ran to his side. They entered together, the last to do so, and found themselves in a surprisingly spacious teaching room. Twelve desks were arrayed in a rough horseshoe. Ros and Hafn from the Sinking Light were sat closest to the door, both of whom turned and smiled at Skal as he entered. Lyy, who he also remembered from the Winter Hall was sat directly opposite the entrance, and Sam was immediately sent to the empty seat beside the Daysider girl. The only other seat left was one facing the teacher's desk at the middle of the horseshoe, which Skal accepted with some reluctance. As he walked to his appointed place he noted the collection of curios furnishings against the back wall of the room; rubber-coated exercise mats, soft seating bags and a pile of red tartan blankets.
"Take your time, by all means," the teacher said in a tone that caused Skal to jolt forward and practically jump into his chair. With the last of his pupils seated, the Nightsider straightened himself up and addressed his new charges. "My name is Udum, son of Onhro, and I have been chosen by no less than the Lady Tavik herself to educate you. But that raises a question: what should you be taught? To answer that, we must begin with the basics."
He scooped up a handful of tablets and styluses, which he handed out to each child in turn. "I have uploaded some basic literacy and numeracy tests onto these for you to complete. As this is an assessment of your own personal ability, I expect you to work in silence. Follow the instructions, and I hope you will all find the tests to be trivial. You may be begin," he finished as the last of the devices were given out.
The first test began, as promised, with a trivial set of problems. These quickly ramped in difficulty, throwing in long multiplication and division that had to be done without the assistance of a calculator app. Then there was algebra, then questions that shifted into binary, decimal and hexidecimal rather than the more familiar octal base. Perhaps the sole blessing Skal found in the test was that it was so difficult by the end that he paid little attention to how long he and the others had been wracking their brains. It came as quite a shock when a little warning popped into the corner of the device to tell him he had only ten minutes to complete the test, and he suspected that in his haste he completely botched the final question.
No sooner had the first test been completed than a second appeared. This began with a straightforward instruction to read every question before beginning the test. Skal did so, and found the final question contained a devious little trap of a line; an instruction not to answer question six. As before, the questions began simply enough, but evolved into increasingly awkward problems. This test proved to be a total disaster for Skal, who began to despair at his failures by question four. He had no idea what the difference between a noun, verb or adjective was, and while he had a working knowledge of the difference of pronunciation between the 'Common J', 'Imperial J' and 'Royal J' in spoken language, he hadn't a clue which was which when it came to labeling them. A few quick glances at his fellow Penitatas suggested he was far from the only one who found the written test to be a drain on their morale.
"Time is up," Udum announced at long last. "Talk quietly amongst yourselves while I review your work, please. If you need to stretch your legs, or visit the latrine, you may do so now. Do not tarry outside or there'll be trouble!"
The chance for a stretch was welcomed, but no Penitatas was keen to risk trouble. Skal himself made only a fleeting departure from the classroom, but he was at least confident enough to stand around with Hafn and Ros, as they were at least familiar faces. "Anyone else feel utterly stupid after those tests?" Sam asked with a playful smile and a flick of her head, wishing to appear flippant about her actual results.
"I know what you mean," Ros agreed. "I have never even heard of a 'Ryyksaad inflection' before! What does it even mean anyway?"
"I think it's how you pronounce your 'r' sounds," Hafn offered, "at least I hope it is. I... made a fair few mistakes."
As if he'd been listening in on the conversation, the teacher called out, "Hafn, did you follow the instructions on the second test?"
A wave of silence flowed out across the Penitatas. All eyes turned to Udum, and then to Hafn, who slunk into his seat. "I..." the boy began before falling silent. Ros' paw had come to rest upon his own, and as Ros mouthed 'be honest', Hafn tried again, "No, I didn't read all the questions before I started answering."
Udum rose from his seat with a short, thin rod in hand. The Penitatas around Hafn dispersed, and the boy in question gave a slight whimper as the towering Nightsider came to a halt in front of him. "Paws out, palms down."
Hafn obeyed, and before he could brace himself a pair of swift, stinging blows were dealt directly over his knuckles. The boy yelped and shoved his paws into his armpits, teeth grit against the sharp, throbbing sting the implement left. Apparently satisfied, Udum took the opportunity to address the class as a whole. "Aside from a minor lack of focus here, your collective performance is acceptable. Many of you are lacking in academic knowledge, but in terms of practical implementation I have no issues. We can therefore focus on what I like to think of as practical education. Everyone back to your seats."
Now with all eyes on him, and a palpable anxiety radiating from his students, Udum began to circle the horseshoe of seated Penitatas. As he passed behind each child their heads snapped forward or sunk into their chests, ears flat and fingers curling at the prospect of being next to feel the rod. He began, "What to teach a class of Penitatas? Why, proper citizenship, of course! How is this taught? Well, we must first turn to the ancient principle of 'fear and faith'. Who can tell me what that is?"
Alone amongst the Penitatas, Alif's hand crept shyly up above his head. "Anghro the Scholar said that a man should be instilled with a fear that failure is worse than death, and emboldened by an absolute faith in his leaders. Only then can greatness be achieved."
A genuine smile of approval flickered across Udum's muzzle, followed by a single clap of praise. "My young charge knows his classics. How cruel then that praise has to be followed so swiftly with suffering. Stand up, Alif."
Confused and anxious, the Daysider was led to the front of the class as Udum explained, "the first lesson you all need is the price of truancy. No doubt many of you will come to resent being here, and so an example must be made. It seems only fair to use the boy who came into my care precisely because he fled his former master." With his reasoning given, Alif's shorts were pulled down around his ankles and he was hoisted onto the desk, the fur of his rump on display for the entire class to see. With the boy settled in place, Udum opened a drawer on his desk and selected a new implement of discipline.
"Just as you will learn from classical wisdom, so too shall you learn from classical methods," Udum announced, holding the ruler up for the class to see. It was about the length of the teacher's forearm, seemingly made of wood with rounded metal reinforcement along the edges, "You will observe that the ruler can measure out two forms of punishment. Watch closely now."
With a hiss of air the flat of the ruler was brought hard against Alif's backside. The boy's fur was thinner than that of the average Kyyreni, and the blow connected with far more of a snap than was expected. The sound of it alone was enough to make the Daysider yelp and jolt, and Udum paused to lean in and whisper something to his charge as he settled back down. Then came the second swat with another harsh crack, and two more followed so rapidly that the initial echoes of the strike were still bouncing off the corners of the classroom. As Alif whimpered, legs and buttocks twitching from the strike, Udum allowed himself to step back and slide the ruler out a fraction, giving both greater length and wider swing to the strikes. The spank that followed had a far harsher crack, delivered with even greater force, and Alif's head shot back in a strangled howl from the impact.
"It would seem we've found the proper amount of force," Udum stated calmly. "Now, Alif, you will receive one stroke for each member of this class, and we shall count them together. You will start, then Hafn, and so on. Let us begin."
Alif made a trembling, mewling sound in response to the instruction. The class could already see a slight pinkness under his fur where the last stroke had landed, and Udum's next stroke found that mark again as it guided towards it. "Owowowow!" Alif howled aloud, once more arching his back and squirming his legs at the blow.
"That is not a count, Alif. We will start again," Udum responded coldly, delivering a third ruler strike against Alif's increasingly tender flesh.
"O-o-one!" Alif mewled, muffled in part by the desk as he tucked his head down against the false-wood surface, paws clenched tight to the rim.
"Better," Udum answered, and he aimed the ruler a fraction higher to find fresh, untouched buttock for the ruler to caress. Another snap followed, another howl from Alif, and then an awkward silence, "Hafn, if you do not participate as instructed we will repeat the punishment with you!"
"Two!" Hafn squeaked in reply. Up until that moment, he had secretly toyed with the idea of getting the count wrong so Alif would suffer more.
With the rules now firmly set, the swatting continued. Each spank of the ruler partially overlapped the one before, and always were they delivered onto the left buttock. As each Penitatas took their turn to count the swats, Alif's left cheek became visibly reddened, and his bawling became more desperate. By the ninth count, Udum had to pause and retrieve a length of thick string with which to bind Alif's tail to stop him lowering it. When the twelve was finally delivered his toe-claws had left visible scratches into the front panel of the desk from his frantic kicking.
"Twelve delivered. Ah, but it seems we have only done half a job. This is a terrible asymmetry."
"No-o-o-o" Alif wailed, craning around to look at the man who both teacher and master to him, "No m-m-more pl-e-ease!"
Udum shook his head, "To show you mercy would suggest I might be lenient to the others. You must suffer for the sake of your classmates. We will begin the count again, the opposite way around. That means you finish, Alif."
With only a slight change of position, Udum began the long swatting again upon the other cheek. Quite by accident, both class and teacher round a rapid rhythm; each child called out their number as he returned to his ready stance, and no sooner had they called out did he bring the ruler down once more on Alif's rear. For five swift, stinging swats Alif blubbed and begged, until his words became incoherent and he gave in to merely crying out his pain. Even the kicking stopped by the time Hafn had counted the eleventh, and as the twelfth ruler stroke sent a searing jolt of pain through an already well-punished backside, Alif's reaction was little more than a flinch and a gulping sob.
"You will count the spank, or I shall simply keep spanking you," Udum threatened, delivering a thirteenth stroke onto a cheek that was now blazing red for all the class to see. The noises Alif made could only have been considered words with a great deal of charity, but it seemed Udum was willing to offer a slight amount of mercy. At least, in that instance.
The teacher took a moment to examine his handiwork, and then to study the timid faces of the other Penitatas. "What are your thoughts, class? By show of hands, who here thinks Alif has been sufficiently disciplined?"
There was general stirring, a shifting of shoulders and heads turning to see how others reacted. Nobody raised their hand, at least not enough that they couldn't pretend they merely wished to scratch their neck or adjust their clothes. After far too much of this hesitation, Skal dared to raise his own paw just above his ear, but he realised Udum's attention was already elsewhere. To Skal's right, Hafn had beaten him to the punch, and beside him Ros was faltering between following suit or chickening out.
"How interesting," Udum said with a faint smile, "here I thought you of all people might enjoy dragging this out a little more. Well all three- four now? Anyone else? No? All four of you, stand up with palms out."
Ruler at the ready, Udum walked between Hafn, Ros, Skal and Banat, giving each of their palms a swift, fierce chop with the ruler. It was far worse than the knuckle rap Hafn had already endured, and all four boys were left teary eyed by the harsh stroke. "Two strokes to each of you. The first is for presuming you have any right to decide what is or is not a fair punishment. The second is for once again failing to pay attention, for I clearly stated the ruler offers two forms of punishment. Sit back down."
Once more, Udum returned to the front of the class and the poor, miserable Alif. The brief hiatus had allowed him to calm a little, but it simply meant his sobbing had become more regular and his squirming had largely stopped. Udum approached him calmly, turning the ruler idly in his hand. "We have seen that the flat of the ruler is an excellent way to correct poor behaviour, but we can also use the edge to correct. As before, we shall count. Alif, be ready."
With no more warning than that, Udum carefully lined the ruler up and chopped down towards Alif's rear, glancing the cheek with the metal edge to deliver a narrow, stinging impact more like a caning. The stroke caused Alif to begin howling anew, and the tearful Rejuve found fresh strength with which to kick and writhe. However, he knew enough from that one sting to know he had no wish for more than he had to take, and managed blub, "one!" just before Udum delivered a follow-up.
Twelve times the ruler chopped at his right buttock, leaving narrow, purple bruises that stood out against the well-burned red. All the class could do was watch, and try to count as quickly and clearly as possible in the hope that ending the punishment swiftly was more merciful than drawing it out. It was clear to all that this trial was enough to break its victim, for at the end of the second round of counting, with two dozen striped bruises delivered, Alif was so exhausted he barely even flinched anymore. Udum chose to count the last stroke on his behalf.
To the relief of all, the ruler was placed back into its draw. "This is the punishment you will face if you fail to attend class, or if you are tardy returning to class after being dismissed. When I dismiss you for lunch, you will be partnered up with a classmate. If your classmate is truant or tardy, you will both suffer. If any pair is truant or tardy, the entire class will be punished. Raise your hand if you have understood." Eleven hands shot bolt upright into the air, much to Udum's approval.
With more care than the class had come to expect, Udum helped Alif back to his footpaws. When the boy faltered he was quickly scooped up again and held to the teacher's chest by his back and thighs rather than his tortured rear. He was carried towards the back of the classroom, and Udum ordered the two nearest Pennys to take a mat and blanket off the stacks. With an improvised bed hastily prepared, Alif was helped to undress and lie down on his side. His muzzle was given a brief wipe and a small, but serviceable pillow was fetched for his head. Finally, he was tucked in carefully, keeping the blanked away from his burning rear. "Your class is going to eat their lunch now. I want you to stay here and rest. Sleep if you need to. I'll make sure you are fed after you've calmed down enough to eat."
With Alif tended to, Udum returned his focus to the other Rejuves. He headed for the door to check on the hall outside, and as the door opened a fraction the sound of children's feet and quiet voices could be heard. "Excellent, it seems we've timed this nicely. Everyone, please head outside and follow Class 2. I want you to pair up as they are. Lyy, you will be paired with Alif normally, but for now walk with the teacher. The school will provide you a meal for today, but from now on you must either bring your own or bring money to buy food. Quickly now, out!"
The Penitatas filed out as 'Class 2' were already formed into two rows of six, each Penny holding the hand of the Rejuve beside them. Seeing the next class coming, and exchanging a glance with Udum over their heads, the Nightsider woman instructed the class to form up in kind and follow behind. Skal found himself second from the front of the class line, beside Sam and behind Hafn and Ros. Hafn in particular seemed to be casting many glances towards Lyy, who shyly hovered beside the teacher. Skal noted how tightly Sam gripped his hand, and in the corner of his eye he saw a Dawnsider girl standing awkwardly with her tail tucked insider her skirt, raising it in an unladylike fashion to reveal the soft, brown fur of her thighs and lower rump. Judging by the flash of redness, and the general look of misery etched into her face, she'd been the unfortunate victim of an unearned thrashing. The fact she was joining them for food made Skal wonder if she'd gotten off lightly.
In their rows, nearly two-dozen Penitatas marched out into the dark, freezing district. They were ushered quickly across the road and herded to the right, after which it was a blessedly short walk to their destination; a cheap eatery on the corner of a cross-road. It was painted in off-white and pale green, with cheap tiles on the floor and the walls covered with some form of cheap plastic sheeting. The seats were vibrant green as well; the tables mint-tinted beige with flecks. Skal knew at once there wouldn't be a menu - it was the kind of place where you ate whatever was being cooked that day. The tables seated six each, and as soon as Lyy was released from the teacher's grasp she hurried over to her little social circle. The five Rejuves settled down together as far toward the back as they could, with Hafn sandwiched between Lyy and Ros, and Sam next to Skal.
As the Rejuves settled a young Nightsider girl of twelve or so hurried over, wrinkling her nose at them as she inspected her new customers. "It's meat dumplings or fish dumplings," she told them impatiently, and took down three orders of fish and two of meat, which was passed into the kitchen before she headed to the next table. A second girl, possibly her sister, took orders from other Rejuves.
"Udum was wrong, you know," Hafn whispered once they had something resembling privacy. "We don't have to just take whatever he dishes out. We do have a say in whether we're treated fairly."
Skal's focus was momentarily lost on his own palm. The ruler stroke had left him with tiny welts that flowed together and broke apart as he flexed his paw. Sensing the focus on him, he looked up and saw Hafn staring at him with a look that wobbled between resolved and pleading. "You think I should speak up about this?"
"I get that running away has to be punished, but Alif didn't do anything wrong," Ros offered, massaging his own palms with his thumbs. "I don't want to get thrashed like that for nothing!"
"This is why you're here right? Why else would you be with us and not at a Guild School?" Hafn added, a hint of eagerness entering his voice.
Skal raised his hands in protest, "hang on! I know things look rough right now, but me running to Kadan and begging for mercy might not fix anything! This is... it's messy, okay? There's a lot of different people with different views on what being a Penitatas is supposed to mean. Some people just think we're slaves, and that's how they treat you two, right? You as well, Lyy? Me too, I guess, but Kadan wants me to have 'unearned' spankings as well as being enslaved."
"My mum does the same," Sam added. "Not as much as she used to, sometimes I can go a whole week without being spanked, but that's how Humans think it should be done. Penitatas get paddled, even when they behave."
"Right," Skal nodded, "but there's more than that. There are people who think we should be taken out of society and put in prisons, and there are people who think what happens to us should be up to our victims. Some are willing to give us another chance, and some say we can never be forgiven. It's all a mess, and nobody has any real answers yet. If we run around crying about how unfair this school is, we might get something easier... or people might say that it proves we're just trying to wriggle out of being punished for our crimes and demand the school get ever worse!"
The very idea made his little audience flinch. "So we've just got to shut up and suffer?" Hafn asked.
Skal shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe? All I can do is tell the Guild what happens in our classroom and hope they'll do right by us. I know I was treated really badly at first, but over time things eased off. Let's hope the school is the same; Udum wants us to be scared shitless right now so we don't dare fart without permission, but maybe once he sees we're well-behaved he'll give us space to breathe."
There were a few half-hearted nods and quiet murmurs of agreement from the others as food arrived. The girl seemed quite surprised when she was thanked for serving them, and thanked again when she returned with a jug of ice water and five transparent plastic cups. The food turned out to be exactly what Skal had expected - cheap, but moreish, and served in big portions. Sam offered to swap some of her meat dumplings for Skal's fish, and Lyy reciprocated the offer so everyone got at least one of each type. Skal couldn't help but wonder if the fish he was now eating were the same ones he'd seen in the tank, but the thought flittered away as idle conversation perked up around him and he finally began to relax. It soon turned out that the portions were almost too big for the Rejuves, and while every plate was cleaned they were all left with groaning stomachs and a longing for a warm place to nap.
Finally, as the plates were cleared and a round of water bowls and paper towels were presented with which to wash their fingers and wipe their muzzles, the Teacher ordered the Penitatas to file out and return to the school. It might have been Skal's imagination, but it seemed they took longer to get back than to reach the eatery. Upon arriving, the Penitatas were given permission to loiter in the hall or tend to their needs, with the warning they were due back in class when the clock struck the hour. No Penny was willing to risk being tardy, and everyone was back in their respective classrooms with plenty of time to spare.
In their absence, Udum had rearranged the furniture. The desks and chairs were all pushed to the walls and twelve mats were arranged in two tightly packed rows. Alif sat on one of the mats, apparently recovered from his thrashing enough for his rear to take the pressure of sitting down. He had a half-eaten sandwich resting in aluminium foil on his lap, and a small thermos of something hot and meaty.
"Come along, pick a place to settle and settle!" Udum called as the Penitatas filed back in. Skal's little group tried their best to stay together, but Lyy found herself detached and sent to sit next to Alif, much to the scowling dislike of Hafn. Sam and Skal picked mats next to each other and wrapped themselves in the blankets. A few little shrugs and shuffles got them comfortable, but also freed their tails to flick out and come together in a way that could easily be dismissed as a casual accident. The simple, covert contact made Skal's heart flutter in a pleasant, welcome way.
"I have spoken to you all of Fear and Faith. I believe the "fear" part is now well-established, so let us turn to faith," Udum said as began to slowly pace around the resting Penitatas. "You must trust in me absolutely, and know with conviction that the choices I make for you are ones that will ultimately set you on a path of reform, a path that leads to you being welcomed back to society with open arms. To know how to go forward, we must first look back, for what is history if not a ledger of success and failure? If we know where we began, we know the choices that history proved right, and we might divine what choices shall lead to success again. Let us begin with your own histories; what do you know of your families? What brought them to Taviksaad?"
"My family were exiles," Alif offered. "We lived in the rainforest on the edge of the Day, but when we were driven from our homes nobody wanted us. In the end, whole families were 'relocated' to colony worlds by order of the Dawn King. I think we were part of the second wave of colonists."
"I'm descended from convicts," Lyy offered shyly, to which Udum responded with a brief smirk.
"Ah, so you are here to uphold the family tradition?" his comment didn't get a laugh, but there were a few smirks, "The first wave of colonists did indeed contain many slaves and penal labourers. Establishing the dome and the foundations of The City was a harsh, thankless task well suited to those with a penance to pay."
As Udum completed his first lap, Hafn offered up, "my grandfather said we were descended from nobility. One of the great bloodlines of the Homeworld."
Udum accepted the comment with a nod. "It is possible. Taviksaad was once a popular destination for raiding ships of varying levels of repute. I imagine that many an adventurous young man chose to spend a little plunder in exchange for a woman's company in those days. However, I trust you understand that, while you may speak of such things informally, you can never make that claim on legal record?"
Hafn nodded hesitantly, "Is it because my grandfather was a... well, an accident?"
"Nobility abhors a bastard," Udum replied. "In truth, there are likely millions of us who are descended from Legends, especially the oldest. Why, it's believed as many as one in ten Dawnsiders are in some way connected to Rahyyk the Unifier, so prolific he was at siring children. I would encourage you all to explore your past. If your master's will pay for it, the Arbitrators can sample your genetic code and compare to their official archives, determining with surprising accuracy how closely tied you are to any given bloodline. I tried it myself a few years ago, and it turns out that I am the four-hundred and nineteenth successor to the T'uoda line that rules the Dawn today! I am practically royalty!"
He paused his second orbit at the desk to fetch a datapad, "All this talk of Legends brings us nicely to story time. Let us begin where it all began: the tale of Rahyyk the Unifier, and how he forged the Dawn. Be comfortable, but be attentive, for legends are the means by which we pass our values to those who come after. Listen well, and reflect on the values the tale promotes."
Udum did not read the whole story, but he read enough for his pupils to become relaxed and for their meals to settle. A few even dared to lie down as if planning to nap. In time, Udum ordered the mats and blankets cleared and the tables restored so he could quiz the Penitatas on their lesson, and by the subtle shift of his tone and change in body language his pupils understood that they had returned to the 'fear' portion of the class.
"Legends exist to pass down moral and ethical values to the next generation," he stated firmly. "Yet here, we might find a contradiction. Rahyyk found himself surrounded by men he deemed immoral, yet in being exiled for challenging the petty tyrants and upstart money-men, it is clear that it was Rahyyk who was judged unworthy - or unethical, if you prefer. How do we correct for this dissonance. How do we decide who is right and who is wrong? Anyone? Disappointing. The answer, my dear charges, is hidden in the titles of our characters. What does 'petty tyrant' mean?"
The short rod returned to Udum's grip, and thwacked it into his palm so a warning crack sounded across the class. Silence, it seemed, was not wise this time. It was Alif who came to the classes rescue, "In the old texts, 'petty' meant 'false', like the Imperials coming for the Dawn Throne in the age of Five Empires."
Once more, Alif was rewarded with a look of quiet approval for his knowledge of old lore. "You should all aspire to be as well-read as Alif. Yes, you are correct; a petty man is one who does not deserve influence, and thus their morals can, and perhaps should be considered suspect. Thus it is with the money-men; those who hold influence not through the righteousness of their argument, but the size of their purse. Money is a means to an end, and it is never a source of rightness. Thus, a properly educated child would know from the outset that Rahyyk was challenging a corrupt system, an unethical world, and by his virtuous will would these wrongs be put right. Hafn!"
The boy jolted upright in shock as the dread implement of the rod was swiped around and brought to rest with the tip aimed squarely between his eyes. "I saw your lips move, boy! You had best been formulating a contribution or you will be thrashed, injuries be damned!"
"I-I-I-" Hafn stammered, choking up from shock before he forced his stomach back down out of his throat and resumed, "I don't s-see how that works! He's just right because the story is about him!"
"No, he is right because he is of noble birth, and lives in accordance with his station," Udum corrected, lowering the rod again if only to give Hafn space to fail.
"But aren't the others nobility too? I don't understand."
Udum turned his gaze to the rest of the class, each of whom seemed eager to shrink away and let the teacher's passions be directed onto someone else. "Someone save the poor boy, someone other than Alif. From where do our ethics derive? Who decides what is right and wrong in our society? Skal, you have no excuse not to know the answer."
The Penitatas to either side of Skal leaned away slightly, as though they feared being caught in the blast radius of whatever fate befell him. "I... the Lord Governor?"
"Good. The Lord Governor. Or more precisely, the Noble Council who advise and guide the Lord Governor, for such a man is not so arrogant as to believe himself without flaw. Yes, the ethics by which we live are ultimately derived from the morality of noblemen. Do you understand now, Hafn?"
Hafn, with flattened ears and dropping tail, did exactly what his friends feared he would, and play into his talent for trouble. With a petulant edge to his voice he muttered, "So right and wrong are whatever they tell us is right and wrong?"
The slight twitch of Udum's muzzle and the narrowing of his eyes was all the evidence anyone needed that Hafn had failed in their teacher's eyes. "Upon the shoulders of nobles rests a burden beyond any you could comprehend. What fate befalls us all if you are negligent, Hafn? Someone's glass remains empty? A latrine goes without a scrubbing? What fate would have befallen us all were our nobles as ineffectual as you? Even acting with swift diligence, our world has been sundered by war; had they wished only for an easy life, had they sought nothing but to shirk and grow fat, it is likely The City itself would have been burned to its foundations! These are men and women for whom every action must be weighed and measured, and for whom failure brings with it a grim harvest of lives, and you dare to sit there and presume your flawed, selfish excuse for morality can be measured against theirs?"
Hafn turned his gaze toward the floor, beaten into submission by words alone. Satisfied, he turned to inspect the other Rejuves, taking some satisfaction in the shared look of timid compliance. "As Penitatas, your moral judgement is suspect. Either you saw nothing wrong in committing your crimes, or else you were willing to set aside your convictions for short term gains. Regardless, you would all be well served by trusting your betters, and living by the rules set for you. Obedience, that should be the virtue to which you aspire. Serve your masters, and learn to trust their guidance, and perhaps in time you will be worthy of independence once again."
The remainder of the day passed quickly, and with a merciful lack of punishment. When Udum finally issued his reminder to make their own arrangements for meals and then allowed them to leave, eleven of the twelve Penitatas practically sprinted for freedom. Skal and Sam stayed close together, winding through their fellow Rejuves and the various authority figures come to claim them until they caught the distinct sight of a Human ahead. "Hey, do you think your mum would let me come back with you?" Skal asked with a squeeze of Sam's hand.
"Sorry, I can't tonight. Maybe next time?" she squeezed back even harder and gave a look of genuine disappointment, which served only to make Skal wonder what it was he'd missed out on. Reluctantly, the two parted ways, and Skal used the long walk home to reflect on what exactly he'd be reporting about the school to Kadan.

Sam's mother stayed outside the shrine, as per usual. She didn't understand her daughter's faith, but she at least accepted the idea that what was said between Sam and the priests was a private exchange. "Like confession," as she put it.
There was no "confessing" for Sam. Father Patience said that only the sinful need seek God's mercy, and Sam was anything but sinful. She was a victim of circumstance, after all; an innocent girl set on the wrong path by an ignorant and uncaring world. A world of lies and injustice. A world that, one day, would be set right.
"School was awful," she said with passion, savouring the safe space Father Patience gave her to vent as much as she needed. "Udum, the teacher, he thinks we should just do whatever we're told because we're too stupid to know right from wrong!"
"What a terrible thing to say!" Father Patience replied, aghast at what passed for 'education' for his follower, "Alas, it is to be expected. Men like Udum cling to power by keeping people like you in their place. They want you weak and helpless so they can exploit you for their own selfish ends, and when you dare to speak up they brand you a criminal. It is so typical of their cruel kind."
"You mean Nightsiders?" Sam asked.
"I mean the established order. The so-called Nobility, the fools who follow the false Gods of Vorhol and Kalkar and the rest. Do you know what a Priest of Iron would say to you about how your teacher treats you? They'd tell you to be thankful for his cruelty! They'd say that being mistreated was a gift, because being miserable makes you a better person! Do you believe that?"
"Of course not!" Sam answered sharply. "I don't want to be miserable. I just... I want to enjoy being a kid again. Is that so wrong?"
Father Patience placed a kindly paw upon Sam's own. "Of course not, child. You deserve nothing but happiness."
He rose slowly, grunting and gasping as his arthritic limbs cracked and popped. With stiffness born of over forty years of life, he wandered to a small wooden box set upon the nearby altar and fetched from within a tiny pinch of ash. "For now, my dear Samantha, I must beg your patience. Know that I love you. Know that the Redeeming God loves you. Know that we all want to give you the life that you deserve. However, these cruel men, these petty tyrants, they would seek to cause you harm if we wrench you from their clutches too soon. I promise, we are doing all we can to right the wrongs you are made to endure. Can you be strong for me, Samantha? Can you be brave and soldier on until liberation comes?"
Sam nodded slowly, "I guess I have to."
The priest knelt awkwardly before her. "I wish all were as brave as you, my dear."
He touched the ash to her forehead and spoke a prayer in the holy tongue. Sam did not know the meaning of the phrase, but she knew the proper reply; "and so we are redeemed."
"Until we meet again, my child."
Sam went willingly to her mother. She took the Human's hand and walked quietly, smiling at the fact a weight was lifted, as it always was when visiting the temple. One day, she would be Redeemed.

Epilogue: The Terran Confederation.
"Better late than never", the saying went. In this case, it was ten years late. Ten years since the people of Icara had called to their birth-world for aid. Ten years since the Terrran Confederation had promised to offer assistance. Ten years since they had forsaken their distant cousins.
It was hard for some to believe one man could change the course of history like that. Velius, Gods damn him, had almost brought apocalyptic ruin to Earth single-handed, exploiting a vulnerability in the orbital security network and achieving the impossible. He had been thwarted, but at a grim cost. Part of that cost had been the confidence of the Confederation; before Velius, dozens of Admirals were eager to put the Kyyreni in their place and, perhaps, bring Icara into the fold. Afterwards? It was rare to find an Admiral willing to surrender a lowly corvette for any duty other than the protection of Sol. The pride of the Confederation had been mortally wounded, and it had taken ten long years to recover.
The wait had been especially painful for Eskal, one of the few Kyyreni ever to journey as far as Sol. He'd come here to die after a lifetime of roaming the stars like a vagabond, but the miracle of Terran technology had given him another chance. When his bloodline had been discovered by Terran security he'd half expected to wind up in a cage, but it seemed the navy and their intelligence arm saw potential in him. "Keep your enemies close," or however the saying went; if you wanted to be close to Vaahn T'rol, where better to start than his brother?
Ten years ago, Eskal was seconded to Admiral Strugar as a 'special civilian adviser'. He'd been aboard one of the orbital yards during the attack, surviving with nothing worse than a few burns and a handful of damaged personal items. But Velius robbed him of his ticket home; more than once, in the long, dark years that followed, Eskal had dreamed of hunting the little bastard down and snapping his neck, consequences be damned.
But he'd bided his time, made contacts in the military and civilian sectors, and waited patiently for the Humans to go find their testicles. Ten years of patience was finally paying off. Strugar was back, fresh orders were issued, and a new fleet was readied. This time, they weren't riding into war like Royal Cataphracts of old. This time, they were going under a guise of peace.
Kyyreni a lot of sayings about strangers seeking peace. Most of them advised you shoot first.
In the dim light of his chamber, Eskal studied the man in the mirror before him. Like all Dawnsiders he was blessed with thick blond fur, and he had taken great pains to carefully trim his darker mane in such a way that he could wear a Terran suit without looking like some form of hunchback. There was a hint of grey about the snout, and a paling dot between the eyes that made him look closer to forty than he truly was, but by his own estimation he was still a handsome man; just not quite vain enough for dyes.
He adjusted his shirt and tightened his belt, making sure the lines and creases of both were in accordance with military regulations. His boots were custom made for his distinctive digitigrade feet and polished to a mirror sheen. He wasn't a soldier, not officially, but he understood better than most the importance of projecting authority. He was aboard this vessel not only because the fleet saw him as an asset, but because he'd demanded it be so.
From his desk came a chirrup, followed by an electronic recreation of a woman's voice announcing, "reminder: you have a briefing with Admiral Strugar in five minutes at the electronic warfare room."
"Delete reminder," Eskal said as he turned on his heel toward the door. He stepped out into the brightly lit corridor and wound his way towards the meeting point, a room guarded by two marines in ash grey combat armour and armed with energy carbines. They saluted as he approached, and he calmly stepped through to the anarchic space beyond. Multiple computers, server towers and miscellaneous devices were arranged in what appeared to be an ad-hoc fashion, but Eskal began to discern a pattern as he circled around the nearest machine in order to reach the central space. Everything was rigged to one of five consoles, and each console appeared custom built for its user. Said users had been corralled by the Admiral, who greeted Eskal with a nod as the Kyyreni approached.
"Ah, excellent. We can finally begin," Strugar said. He was well into his eighties, but Terran medicine had been kind to him; he appeared strong and sprightly, even if his skin sagged in places. "Shall we begin with the introductions?"
"No, we shall begin with what matters," Eskal countered as he found a space between a pair of women. One was a Drakonian who had barely started puberty, the other an Aspatrian who was on the cusp of adulthood. Looking to the other three he saw two young humans and a Jalaxian in his twenties. He assumed their youth was due to them exploiting Rejuvenation technology to gain the enhanced learning potential of youth.
"Very well. You have been gathered here for the task of information retrieval. Our primary concern lies with Richter Brunnel, a former citizen of the Confederation believed to be hiding on the colony world of Taviksaad. Eskal, can you provide any information on this world?"
Eskal resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He had no more knew every Kyyreni world than the Admiral knew every Terran colony, but he did his best regardless. "Used to be an anchorage for Chaldakri smugglers, back when I came through Icaran space. Couldn't tell you anything more than that - I barely stayed a week."
The Admiral took that snippet with a nod, "Our intelligence had noted that Taviksaad was chosen by the Dawn King himself to spearhead a Rejuvenation program. Rumours have reached us that this may have been done as an excuse to allow Brunnel to perform experiments on certain population groups. Specifically, the 'Mongrels'. We don't care to indulge in speculation as to why Ank T'uoda is working with Brunnel, but given his history we have to assume the worst."
"Is this another Velius?" one of the human males asked.
"Unlikely," Eskal cut in, "If he's experimenting on Mongrels, the smart money is on Ank wanting to Rejuvenate himself. Rejuvenation works differently on different species, yes? Does anyone actually know what happens if you put a cross-breed inside one of these chambers?"
"We would like to believe that is the reason, Eskal, but we cannot make that assumption," the Admiral answered firmly. "Three hundred years ago, Brunnel was charged with developing bio-weapons capable of wiping out entire species, but he evaded capture. This is the first sighting we've had of the man since then, and we cannot let this opportunity slide. We need access to his systems, find out what he's doing and, if possible, extract him. Your job will be to get our hackers close enough to his systems to compromise them."
"There's a chance we might be able to get in remotely, but if Brunnel is as smart as everyone claims his systems will be on a closed system," the Drakonian explained.
Eskal turned toward the reptile with a roll of his eyes. "I know my kind come across as primitive, but even we can grasp the mystical art of unplugging the network receiver," he answered back sarcastically, earning a little huff of amusement from the orange-furred fox behind him.
"There is one other matter," Strugar cut in, his tone grim. "If we discover that Brunnel is developing a bio-weapon, it must be destroyed at all costs. In this case, we would also require Brunnel's immediate termination. Furthermore, if any field agent is discovered and captured, the Confederation will disavow any knowledge of your actions. We cannot risk another war."
The hackers appeared uncomfortable at the idea, but Eskal had no such fears. He had been hardened by his life away from Kyyreni space, driven to do things he never imagined himself capable of. He had entered this region of space a lump of soft, un-worked iron, and he had come to Earth with a killing edge. He wasn't sure if he was willing to die for the Terrans, but he wouldn't flinch if the Shepherd came looking for him.
The Admiral passed a few more words to the hackers, and reminded them they had two short months to prepare for arrival. It would be up to them to decide who went planetside and who worked remotely. After that, he gave them a set of access codes as a parting gift, and left the wunderkind to study their foe and make their plans.
Eskal calmly strolled back toward the door, pausing behind the Aspatrian's work station as he passed. "So, how confident are you that you can out-hack a madman with an urge to wipe out entire civilisations?"
With a flick of her ears, the Aspatrian turned toward Eskal and met his quiet, confident smile with one of her own. "He wouldn't my first," Kayla Ackart replied.