The First Penitatas: The Eye of the Storm
The only thing between Tosjig and the freezing void of space was a thin cockpit canopy, and try as he might to shut it out, his mind created constant phantom sounds of cracking glass. Stressed huffs escaped between his clenched, barred teeth as his paws gripped the controls of the gunship tight. The inside of his flight suit was slick with sweat, but such discomforts were far down on his long list of concerns.
Ahead of him, nestled in the primary flight seat, Ranzig calmly called out his instructions for the Penitatas to follow. "Come to new heading: zero-seven-seven by zero-four-one. Maintain speed. over."
Tosjig gave a nervous nod, before remembering he was sat behind his instructor. "O-okay," he stammered.
Ranzig's chuckle tickled his ear through the headset. "The correct response is 'acknowledged', Tosjig."
"Acknowledged!" the boy squeaked, shaking all over as he tried to pretend he was back in a simulator, safely on the ground. The real ship didn't move like the virtual one did; it was front-heavy and sluggish on the stick, and when it built up momentum she became wildly unpredictable. Tosjig strained to force the vessel onto the desired course, overshooting both rotations twice before aiming the nose in more or less the right direction. What followed was a too-long silence from the full-grown pilot, leaving Tosjig terrified he'd done something catastrophically wrong.
"Confirm flight assist settings for me, over." Ranzig said at last, and the nerve-wracked Penny was initially fearful to do so; that would mean letting go of the controls. He settled for freeing one hand and tapping through the data readouts on his various terminals until he found the desired information.
"We... we're in Mode Two, standard flight. O-over"
"Mode Two is for atmospheric flight, Tosjig. We are currently in low orbit. Reconfigure flight systems and confirm." Ranzig prompted.
"I... I don't remember how," the boy confessed, and he watched sheepishly as his interface jumped and flickered, mirroring the inputs at the main helm. He barely managed to suppress a fearful squeal as the controls shuddered in his paw, and when he pulled on them to correct the drift the craft lurched alarmingly, suddenly rendered light and nimble. Once confident the ship was not about to plunge out of the sky, or void, or whatever, Tosjig let his eyes focus on the distant specks of light ahead and watched them grow into a three-ringed orbital surrounded by starships. The brief sense of wonder was immediately crushed by the nightmarish realisation that Ranzig probably expected him to dock with the station.
As if reading the boy's thoughts, Ranzig asked, "Do you feel up to landing? Over."
"No I do not!" Tosjig yelped. "Please take control back!"
"Alright, alright, I have control." Tosjig released the controls with a loud sigh of relief, slumping back against his padded flight chair and clenching his eyes shut as the adrenaline burned through his system. When he finally dared to open them again the station was much closer, and he at least tried to listen along with the back and forth calls between pilot and control tower as they were eased into the landing bay. With barely a bump, the heavy skids of the gunship kissed the deck, and that was enough for Tosjig to convince himself he was back on solid ground.
"I never want to do that again," he whimpered, watching Ranzig as he shut down the systems.
With a snicker that verged on cruel the pilot replied, "well bad luck, because we've got to go down again soon. For now, go enjoy the show. Scratch that - shower and change first!"
Slipping out of his restraints, Tosjig headed for the narrow access way to the back of the craft. He passed by the crew quarters, if they could be called that: a crude wash unit that contained both the shower and latrine facilities; a bunk that was just slightly too small for the average adult; a kitchen comprising a table just big enough for a meal tray, with a rad oven strategically positioned to crack the skull of the unwary. Most prison cells had more living space. Beyond was the passenger section and cargo bay. The former were harnessed chairs arrayed in two rows of four, facing each other with just enough legroom to be tolerable. Tosjig caught the eye of the youngest of the two passengers and waved. Skal waved back, an act that caught Kadan's attention.
"We've just landed!" Tosjig called out to the passengers. "You should be able to disembark soon! I just need to... get ready."
"Good to know," Kadan answered, taking the message as permission to unfasten his harness and stretch. The ride on the gunship had been quite the surprise, not least because he suspected the Lifter Guild had no legal right to own it. Indeed, the pilot had been very specific that this was a 'VIP shuttle', not a gunship. It had six rotary autocannons of varying calibres, heavy armour plating and a rifle cage in the cargo space, but the claim persisted nonetheless.
The sounds of running water followed, and when Tosjig next emerged he was decidedly soggier and dressed in loose, comfortable clothes rather than a flight suit. The pilot didn't bother to change, and calmly lowered the exit ramp for all four of them to disembark. "Turnabout window is two-point-two hours, sir. If you plan to be on the flight back home, best be here on time."
"Understood," Kadan answered, before turning to the quivering ball of excitement lurking in his shadow. Skal, wide-eyed and giddy, stared at the boarding ramp like a starving man in the presence of steak. "You be on your best behaviour, understood?"
"Yessir!" Skal squeaked back, grinning so wide the top of his head was at risk of coming off. Despite his promise, barely twenty seconds later he was darting for the ramp, forcing Kadan to grab him by the scruff of the neck and earning a harsh warning smack. Cowed, but still undeniably excited, Skal stayed close at his master's side as they disembarked together and passed through the customs check into the station proper. For an Enforcer officer and his apparent pupil, the check was little more than a waving through, and the pair made straight for the central ring of the station, riding one of the secondary elevators up into the commons.
Up until the moment they stepped out into that grand, vaulted chamber, Skal could have believed they were still planetside. The ship that brought them had no windows, nor did the hangars or access ways. But the commons was a vast, ringed plaza that housed shops, restaurants, essential services, resting space and a dozen other facilities besides; and all of it sat beneath a curved, glass-paneled ceiling that looked out into nothingness. The boy had expected stars, or the brilliant, swirling colours of nebulae and distant galaxies. Instead, there was lightless oblivion, stretching out forever in every direction. The sight of it made Skal's legs go numb, and he found himself clasping tightly to the nearest railing for support as the void loomed above. Kadan's paw closed on his shoulder and steered him forwards into the throng. "It helps not to stare at it," he said. "Focus on what's up close."
The Penitatas did as advised, and slowly the otherworldly emptiness above became normalised. Kadan was taking them clockwise towards a large, heavy bulkhead that divided up the commons, its doors guarded and marked by screens that proclaimed "CLOSED FOR VIEWING EVENT - PERMIT ACCESS ONLY!" in scrolling red letters. There was quite the crowd present, and the sound of their overlapping conversations created an impressive din. From what Skal gathered as he was dragged through, they were mostly uninvited guests who hoped to be given access regardless, and the border guards were adamant the mob should try their luck elsewhere. Beyond the doors, the commons had received enhanced finery. Rich purple carpets had been installed, banners of vermillion and gold hung from every mounting point imaginable, and even the most basic of vendor sported silver-trimmed plaques that clearly proclaimed noble patronage. Kadan couldn't resist passing comment, snarkily predicting that the overwhelming majority of these patrons would rescind their support the moment the guests had departed.
None of that mattered to Skal, however, as his eyes were drawn inexorably to the grand viewing platform, and the shimmering lights in the black. A local vendor scanned Kadan's coin-card and handed over two pairs of binoculars, and with his eagerness overriding any sense of proper behaviour, Skal darted for the window. Being in a child's body, it was a simple enough task to make it to the front of the throng; those he couldn't squeeze past or crawl under were willing enough to give a youth a better view. They were certainly willing to make way for the scowling Enforcer who came in the boy's wake. Gazing into space with his binoculars, a squeal of pure joy escaped the boy's throat. In the black, still tiny despite his viewing tools, was a starship. It was coming head-on, which hid its true size, but Skal knew its dimensions already. Its rhomboid prow was built of thick bands of overlapping armour, like some ancient segmentata. In its shielded maw, irised engine guards circled open to release a fiery burst of braking thrust, shaking clear a thin mist of particulates gathered from across Kyyreni space in its millennia of service. From its forward torpedo tubes came a pair of shimmering red flares, and at their launch a roar of excitement filled the station. The Indestructible had officially arrived.
"It's real! It's really here! It's really, really here!" the boy squealed as he jumped up and down in a fit of irrepressible glee, tears of joy wetting the corners of his eyes. "They let people come aboard sometimes, don't they? Can we go inside? Please?"
Kadan shook his head, "no, they're not taking guests." He saw the brief disappointment in Skal's face, but the boy quickly turned his eyes back to the approaching ship. Kneeling down to the rejuve's height, Kadan raised his own binoculars again and scanned the horizon. "I'm not good with ships. What are those ones off to the right? The oval shaped ones with the four long engines."
Somehow, Skal tore his gaze away from the main spectacle to study the target of Kadan's interest. "That's an Icaran ship. It's got to be a military vessel, maybe a frigate or a destroyer. Cruisers usually have a secondary hull, while their battleships might have three or four hulls. Civilian ships tend to be wider and shorter, thicker too, quite often. Look! Just coming into view, that's an Icaran merchant ship! See how much bigger it is? But it's engines are actually smaller, recessed into the mid- and aft- sections."
"There's a couple more Icaran ships on the other side as well," Kadan noted. Skal's glee was infectious, and he couldn't help but smile at how the boy locked-on to the new curiosity immediately.
"Oh, yeah! Those are part of the Icaran Navy, you can tell by the colours. So the other ones must be from an Icaran colony?"
"They are from the Terran Confederation, actually," a Dawnsider in offworld clothes said with a grin. "They came halfway across the galaxy for this event."
Kadan scoffed at the idea. "Right, like the Terrans care that much about us."
For the rest of the Indestructible's approach, Skal alternated between obsessively quoting facts about the ancient warship and marveling at the other vessels. Even Kadan had to admit, the orbit was a far busier place than he'd ever imagined. He was learning a great deal, whether he wanted to or not. There were Chaldakri traders, whose ships were squashed spheres covered in spindly thrust spines, and the more familiar bullish, ugly mass-haulers so common to the inner systems of Kyyreni space. Darting in between the larger ships came Bandits - spindly little raiding ships favoured by spies and smugglers. At one point, Skal called out a dagger-like vessel with three curved, bladed wings; a Ny'ee craft. Kadan never saw it with his own eyes, as it swiftly vanished in the shadow of the larger merchant ships, seemingly never to emerge again. Yet all else, save perhaps the Indestructible was swiftly forgotten at the final arrival. With a long ripple of braking engines, the fleet of Urokon arrived.
Their fleet contained ships of over thirty nations, drawn from four worlds. Each of them gleamed, their fresh heraldry worn proudly on unblemished hulls. The largest of them was close to three miles long, dwarfing the ancestral battle-carrier that all had come to see. Its weapons were borne in ball turrets that stood proud of the hull, with no thought to concealment or lock-down systems. Rather than the smooth, armoured prow that was expected of a battleship, she instead bore a stylised skull. Its nostril hole housed forward torpedo launchers, and energy weapons formed the teeth of its gaping maw. Impractical, certainly; but undeniable in its emotional impact. "What... what is that?" Skal whispered, unable to look away.
The stranger beside him answered. "That is The Lord Sovereign, the new flagship of the Dawn. Ank T'uoda wishes to make a display, it seems."
In time, the Indestructible brought itself to the station, anchoring to the ring by umbilical docking ramps. The rest of the ships stayed at bay, regardless of their arrival order; Taviksaad was an Independent Colony, and as such certain traditions had to be upheld. It was the Free Armada that maintained that independence, and so no ship of any other power could approach until the Armada gave their blessing. To whom that blessing was given, and in which order, was an aspect of courtly politics that neither Skal nor Kadan understood, nor had any desire to, but the honour of first permission ultimately fell to the Dawn King.
Skal's view of the arrival ceremony wasn't as choice as his place at the viewing window, but he saw enough. Admiralty officers in their old-fashioned uniforms were greeted with formal solemnity by the Lord Vaskal and his subordinates, with representatives of the major Guilds also present. Lurking in the wings, not part of the proceedings but close enough to watch, were the heads of the Enforcer's Guild: the Enforcer-General, the Border-Marshal, the Madame Seneschal, the Lady Administratrix, the Watch-Captain and, of course, Corrector-Captain Kadan. The Guildmaster herself was the sole officer honoured with a place in the ceremony, and she alone attended out of uniform, wearing a purple court dress in place of her proper grey-and-gold dress uniform. The ceremony itself involved a lot of stand-offish interactions, as though both sides wished to show reverence without ever admitting inferiority. The uniforms and relics of ceremony were interesting to see, but the actual steps of the rituals soon grew tiresome, and Skal found himself glad to be steered away back toward the dock.
Tosjig was there to greet them, but only just. His heavy breathing and the sticky, sugary goo around his muzzle suggested that he'd been summoned back on short notice. "We're just loading our cargo and then we'll be ready to go. Did you see all the ships?"
"Yeah, it was amazing! We-" Skal's eager reply was cut short by a bark from the boarding ramp.
"Tosjig! Get changed! Now!" With an apologetic wince, Tosjig vanished into the ship as the pilot emerged. "My apologies to you both, but we're still waiting on our other passengers. I'll have to ask you to wait here until the arrive."
When Tosjig returned he was clean and properly dressed in his flight gear, complete with the distinctive look of anxiety all Penitatas wore after a telling off. He took up position next to Ranzig and stood easy like a cadet on parade, as did his pilot. Kadan, perhaps on instinct, straightened his uniform just as a familiar face approached; the stranger from the window. The Dawnsider was accompanied by a female Aspatrian in a similar style of dress. It wasn't a uniform, but it was clearly chosen by someone who wanted to show uniformity. "Ah, are you expecting an Eskal and Kayla?" the Dawnsider asked as he approached.
"Yessir," Ranzig answered. "I'm Ranzig, your pilot. This is Tosjig, who I'm training. He won't be at the controls for this portion of the journey."
"A little young for flight training, isn't he?" Eskal inquired, which caused Tosjig to squirm in place.
"I... I'm a Penitatas, sir," he answered.
Eskal and the Aspatrian - 'Kayla', Skal presumed - exchanged surprised glances with one another. "Well fancy that, Penitatas pilots, eh? I don't think they'd do that back home."
"No they would not," Kayla agreed. To Tosjig she added, "You're a lucky young man."
"Not really, I don't like flying," Tosjig replied shyly.
Eskal gave a light chuckle. "Well you wouldn't be a Penny if you were having fun, would you? We are ready to board, pilot, if you'll have us?"
With a smart nod, Ranzig ushered all four of his passengers aboard, personally ensuring they were securely strapped in and all but asking their permission to retreat to the cockpit and launch for the planet. The fussing gave Skal time to study their fellow passengers in detail. Eskal was well into his thirties, perhaps even older judging by the grey upon his muzzle. He had a thick, dark mane that had been carefully trimmed and styled so that it only grew long above the shoulder, and he wore it plaits. The Aspatrian beside him was much younger; if she were a Kyyreni, he'd have put her age around thirteen. Her eyes were blue, a rare eye colour in his experience, and her fur was an unfamiliar orange shade, save for inside of her ears and the tip of her puffy tail. Both of them wore smart, grey clothes trimmed in reds and blues.
"Are you a Rejuve as well?" Kayla asked Skal, catching the boy's inquisitive stare. She spoke the native language, but her accent and cadence was a little off.
Skal nodded, and noticed how both of the visitors glanced to his paws. "I'm a... a Penitatas, like Tosjig. I'm also learning to be an Enforcer." The revelation made Eskal's eyebrow raise in curiosity, but the Dawnsider gave no comment.
"Is that because your father's an Enforcer?" Kayla asked, tilting her head towards Kadan a fraction.
"Kadan isn't my father, ma'am. He's my master." Almost immediately, Eskal leaned over and whispered in Kayla's ear. The hushed snippets of words Skal caught were in another language, presumably her native tongue. Skal watched surprise, confusion and anger compete for control of Kayla's features, but it seemed she came to some form of acceptance by the time Eskal had finished his explanation.
"I see," she said with the warm smile of someone trying their best not to offend. "Earth abolished slavery a long time ago, so your answer surprised me, that's all."
"May I ask what brings you to Taviksaad?" Kadan cut in. "You must be important to warrant an armed transport."
The smile Eskal gave the Corrector-Captain was an all-too familiar one. He'd seen the look on many a young noble's face. He'd beaten it off of one of them. "We are here as diplomats on behalf of the Terran Confederation. Your world, and our species are making a bold step into an exciting new future, and the peoples of the Confederation consider this an excellent time to forge new bonds of friendship."
"Or stab us in the back?" Kadan asked bluntly, to the surprise of both Skal and Kayla.
Eskal, on the other hand, took the insult in stride. "Oh no, my good man. I slash, not stab, and always from the front. The Rites of Challenge insist upon it." Kadan's lips twitched into the beginnings of a spiteful retort, but he held his tongue. Perhaps sensing the tension, Eskal smiled and asked lightly, "I'm hoping to see the city before the formalities begin, unwind a little, soak up the local flavour. Can you recommend a good place for a few drinks?"
After a moment's pause to ride out the jolt of takeoff, Kadan replied, "There's a place called the Sinking Light. They're on good terms with the Guild, so you're not likely to get much trouble there. Unless trouble is what you're after?"
"Maybe later," Eskal answered, and there was a brief flicker of hunger in his eyes as he said it.  "Thank you for the recommendation, captain."
In due time, the matte-black gunship kissed the tarmac of the landing field and the passengers began to disembark. Although the engines had gone silent, the passive heat they gave off could be felt as the four walked down the access ramp. Teams of Kyyreni in Lifter Guild yellow waited patiently for them to step aside so the dignitaries' belongings could be offloaded and the essential tasks of stowing the vessel could begin. A safe distance away from the active landing pad two transports sat; an old, but well-maintained skimmer in Enforcer Guild black, and a pristine ground-car in Lifter Yellow. Kadan and Skal stayed back as the dignitaries boarded their transport, and only when they were underway did Kadan guide his Penitatas charge towards their own vehicle. "They seemed nice?" Skal offered to break the silence.
"That man's a noble," Kadan growled, "they can 'seem' like a lot of things, but you can rarely trust anything they say. Put a little pressure on him, and you'll see the killer underneath. Come on; with any luck, we won't be seeing them again."

Kayla watched the landscape roll by with a sense of disappointment. She had traveled halfway across the galaxy to come here, and there was nothing to see but wasteland. Their car sped along a wide, straight road that was often the only signs of civilisation to be seen. Occasionally, additional lanes would grow off the sides and split away, and only then might some glimmer of society appear on the horizon. Colony domes were the buildings of choice, spread so far apart that it was not possible to see one from the other, but when structures closer to the road appeared they were typically exposed to open sky. Here, more traffic joined the roads, the bulk of which were mass haulers. Their liveries were sand-blasted and old mud clung to their undersides, but in their basic shapes were familiar to Kayla, who had grown up on Earth. The primary difference seemed to be the placement of the driver's cabin, situated low to the ground with the engines concealed elsewhere.
"Why do they have so many ground vehicles?" Kayla asked as they passed a particularly large freight hauler. "Your people have anti-grav, so why use something so basic?"
"Pragmatism. Anti-grav systems are complex, but a wheeled hauler is simple enough that almost anyone can build and maintain it. You might value that simplicity if your vehicle breaks down on a world still being colonised."
Kayla flicked a puzzled look towards her Kyyreni companion. "But this world has been colonised for a long time now, right?"
"It has, but why throw away something that still works?" Eskal asked in reply, glancing out of the window just in time to catch a single-rider hoverbike bolt past. The machine looked as though it had been built in a scrap heap, and Eskal grinned at the sight of it. "Oh, of they have Outrunners here. Bizarre people."
"Outrunners?" Kayla turned her attention to the opposite side of the road. Running hot on the heels of the first came two more of the junk-bikes, flying off the road and low enough that their repulsor units kicked up dust.
"Biker gangs. They infest most major cities on Urokon. Part of their culture is to build your own bike, but you're not supposed to pay for the parts. That's why they look like they're made of junk. It's a load of bollocks, obviously - plenty of places back home would custom build those things to look like that, and they charged handsomely for it."
Kayla couldn't help but laugh at the story. "So, we have people who should be using high-tech trucks sticking with antiques because 'it works', and criminals paying a fortune for bikes that look like they're built of stolen parts? What other craziness am I in for?"
Eskal gave the Aspatrian a predatory grin, "just wait until you see your first Rough House."
In time, the great dome of The City rose up to greet them. According to their intel, The City had no need of a name, and Kayla was beginning to understand why. The colony dome was vast to the point of over-done, large enough to comfortably enclose a population of several hundred thousand, and that was without the possibility of subterranean expansion. Secondary domes linked to sections of the outer wall, and to the south one appeared to be squatting on the dome's curve itself in defiance of sound city planning. The entrance ahead was a colossal armoured door that looked as though it rarely closed, and through it ran a three-lane highway. Kayla tried her best to read the signage as they entered, but her grasp of Kyyreni writing was weaker than her speech and she only caught the occasional word. "Remind me again why I'm here?" she asked, the thought prompted by her difficulties. "Dawson is the language expert, so why didn't he come along?"
"Because Dawson is a human, and I'd rather not have to deal with that," Eskal answered. "Icara fought two wars against the Kyyreni race, and there's still a chance for bad blood. Diplomacy will go much more smoothly with us here."
"Even so, there are plenty of non-humans you could have chosen," Kayla countered.
"True, but you have two qualities that made you the perfect choice. First of all, Aspatrians look like children, so you'll get plenty of sympathy-" He raised a hand to stop the snarky retort before it came, "-secondly, nobody on this planet has ever heard of you. Nobody knows Kayla Ackart, nobody knows Packet Storm. When was the last time you were just a face in the crowd?"
"Back when I was Packet Storm, actually. Although I never went into any crowds. I lived alone." Kayla answered, her attention pulled between Eskal and the sights of the new city. They had been moving south, winding between walled-off industrial lots. She saw an internal dividing wall emerge, and the car followed it briefly before turning through an access point and emerging into a chaotic sprawl. Double- and triple- floored buildings were packed into the district, seemingly at random. Their fronts were all distinct, with words, pictures and goods promoting everything one could desire; food, drugs, entertainments, sex. Snippets of songs, shouting mobs, and cheering crowds all reached her ears as the car snaked through the area, and as the vehicle twisted and turned the passengers were able to see raised construction platforms further south on which even more structures were being assembled. They passed between a pair of burned-out units and curved round an island of tarmac on which a tightly packed crowd were roaring at some unseen spectacle. When the car paused at the junction, a young Kyyreni with black fur tapped on the windows and gestured to the tray around his neck, barking the names of his confections. The driver swore at him and pulled away before a sale could be made. "Eskal, are you sure this is the right place?" Kayla asked, set on edge by the loud, crude nature of the surroundings.
When the Aspatrian glanced to her Dawnsider colleague, she saw nothing but glee on his face. "Oh yes, I am sure this is where we want to be."
Leaning over to whisper in his ear, Kayla asked, "how exactly is hanging around the rough part of town going to help us find Brunnel?"
"We're dignitaries, and I haven't been back in Kyyreni space for decades. There's nothing suspicious about this. In fact, it might just convince the doctor we don't know about him," Eskal answered, but the explanation seemed less of a planned strategy and more an excuse to have fun at the Admiral's expense.
As they stepped out of the car and retrieved their luggage, Eskal and Kayla found themselves greeted by an unexpected sight. A Kyyreni child of five or six hurried over with an eager smile upon his face. A satchel of cheap menus hung at his side, but what was most striking about him was his colour; the boy was pink from head to toe, his fur dyed in varying shades of pink in a manner that was both deliberate and artistic. His clothing, little more than a fancy loincloth, left almost all of the handiwork on display. "Hello!" the boy called out excitedly. "We're doing a series of special events for the Birthing, including music, games of chance and exotic drinks from all across the stars! Here, take a look for yourself!"
Eskal took the offered menu and gave it a quick glance. Almost immediately, something caught his eye to draw out a playful smile, and he handed the menu to Kayla to examine. "So you've got Confederation drinks? Are they really from there, or just inspired by them?"
"They're genuine, sir!" the boy replied eagerly. "But they're only available in limited quantities, so be sure to come back tonight when we open to try some!"
"I think I'll come in now, actually," Eskal replied. "I'd like to speak to whoever runs this establishment."
His cheer suddenly replaced with concern, the boy darted back inside and Eskal followed uninvited, with Kayla trailing uncertainly behind. The room beyond was a large, multi-purpose space taken up by booths and tables along one wall, and a small stage area that had been expanded with a low scaffold and fibreboard floor panels. Two young Kyyreni females were cleaning tables at the far end, while three young men worked at the stage's sound system. The girls had streaks of blue and green in their fur. In one of the booths was a second youth, slightly older and dyed in green, a full-body dye like the boy outside. He had his muzzle buried in an old book, which judging by the expression he wore was a challenging read. A lit-up notepad rested by his right paw, its display suggestive of a text document. A pen and paper sat at his left, the latter covered in hasty scrawl and scratched-out writings. As they took in the room the pink boy returned with an adult woman following close behind, her entire body coloured pastel shades of blue. She too only wore a loincloth, albeit one that looked more expensive than those worn by the two boys, and it gave Kayla an unexpected lesson in Kyyreni anatomy as her four breasts were on full display.
"Someone wanted to see the manager?" the Kyyreni woman asked.
"I did," Eskal replied as he released his luggage and fished a metal disc out of his pocket. "My name is Eskal, son of Brahlt, born to the House of Tu'ri and diplomat of the Terran Confederation. I'd like to rent a room for a few days."
At the mention of 'House of Tu'ri' the woman's eyes went wide with surprise, and Kayla saw every ear twitch towards them as the manager stammered her way back to coherence. "Why... why yes! Of course, sir! We have a loft room available, but might I ask why you wish to stay here? Not that I object, of course!"
"Of course you may," Eskal replied, putting on his best diplomatic voice. "Truth be told, I have no love of the overstuffed finery our hosts offer for these sort of visits. I prefer the company of honest people, and I would like my companion to see what Taviksaad is truly like; you don't get that staying around the palaces of nobles."
"Well I am honoured that you chose my humble establishment. Please, allow me to show you to the room. My name is Ivaka, by the way," Ivaka added as she hurried towards a staff entrance close to the stage. As they left the main room, Kayla's ears picked up fragments of hushed whispers; she didn't get much, but she heard the words "Aspatrian" and "slave" clearly.
The loft was far from what Kayla had hoped for, but it certainly seemed to meet with Eskal's approval. Two of the walls had a slight angle to them as the room was positioned in the corner of the building. A narrow window allowed a view out into the street, and had both blinds for privacy and a reinforced shutter for security. There was a wardrobe that looked decidedly second-hand, a basic desk, a guest toilet that barely had room for the bowl and sink, nevermind the actual occupant... and one double-bed. Ivaka provided them with the network access codes and promised complimentary drinks when they were ready before bowing her way out and giving the pair some privacy. "Should we have tipped her?" Kayla asked.
Eskal shook his head. "No need. I'll arrange a tab to cover all our expenses and pay it in advance. Since we'll probably leave in a hurry, she'll make a little extra off our disappearance."
Kayla accepted the answer with a nod as she began to unpack her belongings, and Eskal did the same. Both of them had two suitcases: one for clothes and other ordinaries, the other for sensitive items. They were like something out of a spy thriller, with a padded interior designed to befuddle sensors and probes to hide their true contents. Eskal's contained a pistol and a collapsible short-blade, as well as holsters to conceal both under his attire. For Kayla, her covert goods were portable electronics. It wasn't a patch on her home machine, or even the rig she'd set up on the ship in orbit, but she could get a lot done with it. Eskal dropped the network details into her lap as she set everything up. "Snoop around, but be discreet. Last thing we need is for our prey to bolt early."
Kayla nodded. She didn't need reminding, or telling how to do her job, but she knew Eskal was just ticking off boxes - the last thing anyone wanted was for something to go wrong because of lack of communication. "Is this why we're really here? So that if we trigger a security system it can be passed off as some bedroom hacker?"
Eskal leaned over with a predator's grin on his muzzle. "Your mother has a CatchUp account, doesn't she?" he asked far too sweetly.
"Yeeeeeeees?" Kayla replied, puzzled by the sudden interest in Emily's social media profiles.
With a glint of mischief worthy of a Penny, Eskal announced, "Her password is 'FurryBlessing01', isn't it?"
"How did you know that?" Kayla blurted out, startled by this invasion of her mother's privacy.
"More to the point, how do you know that?" Eskal shot back, giving the girl a disciplinarian's scowl.
"Don't change the subject!" Kayla growled, now on the defensive. "What the Hell are you doing anyway, snooping around in my mother's accounts?"
The look that formed on Eskal's face was one of disappointment, tinged with hurt. "I'm a spy, Kayla. It's what I do. This kind of operation requires a background dive into all involved, and we don't exactly ask permission when we go looking. Don't take it personally."
"Fine," Kayla huffed, taking it personally.
With a weary sigh, Eskal pressed on. "But there's your problem, Kayla; you think purely in technical terms. For you, a password is something to slip out from behind a data-wall, or decrypt from a secure transmission. All I had to do was put the pieces together. First, 78% of Emily's pictures on CatchUp feature you. Second, you said she called you her 'Furry Blessing', a term of endearment she used before the account was set up. Third, CatchUp requires at least two numbers in the password, and most people just use '01'. Basic psychology. It doesn't matter how strong your digital safeguards are; the weak link is always the end user."
Kayla gave a nod of understanding. "Alright, so let me see if I can work this out... this is a bar, and it's a holiday. You picked one recommended by local law enforcement, which seems strange to me..."
"Go on," Eskal encouraged, a faint smile playing across his muzzle as Kayla's tone turned from bitter to engaged.
"Alright, how about this?" Kayla became more animated as she spoke, moving her hands as though slotting pieces together on a virtual interface, "Brunnel's got to keep himself squeaky clean. Too clean, in fact. I guess anyone working for him has to as well. So where to people like that drink? In a bar the cops are watching, because no criminal in their right mind wants to be seen by police! They'll be here, they'll drink and have fun, and I'm guessing you'll be down there trying to coax out information?"
"Excellent guess!" Eskal laughed, "I'll make a spy out of you yet! Now, do me a favour and get all your technical doohickery set up. I'm going downstairs to make nice with our host."
With a nod, the Aspatrian turned back to her computer. "Oh, and for the record? Your CatchUp password is 'Fr0mF4r', last accessed in low Earth orbit. They asked me to monitor all non-cleared traffic on our way out."
Eskal paused at the door of the room, turning back to glance over his shoulder at the young woman who seemed equal parts proud and ashamed of her announcement. "Delete that account for me when you get home. I'm sure you can work out how." Then he flashed a toothy smile and left her to her work.
Downstairs, the two pastel coloured children were whispering together as Eskal stepped into the social space. He watched them for a few moments, judging their mannerisms and trying to read their lips. There were brief glimpses of the marks upon their paws, but they were too vague to tell him their role with any certainty. He decided to try his luck. "Two Penitatas conspiring together? That can't be good!" he said with a chuckle as he drew closer, and was rewarded with both boys looking up in startled surprise.
"W-we weren't doing anything!" the green child answered, shielding himself behind his book.
"Relax," Eskal said as pleasantly as he could, not wishing to spook the pair further. "My name is Eskal. I don't believe I got yours?"
"I'm Hafn, this is Ros," the green-dyed Penny answered. Ros, in pink fur, gave an awkward little wave.
Eskal gave them both a warm grin as he slowly extended his paw, palm up in a wordless request for Hafn's book. The Penny handed it over, with some anxiety, and Eskal gave a soft purr of surprise as he studied the cover. "Well now, a boy with a taste for the classics, are we?"
"We have to read it for our homework," Ros explained. "Our teacher thinks it'll make us better people."
"But I read it before then!" Hafn cut in, eager to impress.
Eskal gave a disapproving tut as he carefully thumbed the pages. "Someone needs to have a word with your teacher. If the goal is to make a better citizen, Vsar is hardly where I'd start. I suggest more modern authors, ones who created their political thoughts after the discovery of electricity." He handed the book back with a smile and took a moment to examine the room again. Disjointed snippets of music came from the stage as part of a sound test, while a newly-arrived Daysider in an expensive tunic impatiently waited for someone, likely Ivaka. He studied the men and women, weighing up their dress and markings and guessing them all to be free, or as free as a Thrall could hope to be. With a faint smile he said, "it occurs to me that Kayla and I will need a guide or two. Do you think you could manage that?"
"A guide?" Hafn parroted, his jaw hanging open in a less than flattering look of surprise.
"Oh it won't be all that taxing," Eskal added with an air of distraction. "You'll just have to give us directions here and there. Oh, but you will have to accompany us to a few formal events, such as the Lord Governor's Ball. That won't be a problem, will it?" He glanced down at the boys through the corner of his eye, and saw the excitement spread across their faces. With a smile, he intercepted Ivaka as she approached her newest visitor, and with a few soft, yet unyielding words politely informed her of his decision to conscript the Penitatas. With this done, he returned upstairs.
It was remarkable how quickly Kayla had made herself at home. Three portable screens were set up in her new workspace, with a small holoprojector tucked to one side. The holo currently displayed a large-eared, sharp-toothed alien engaging in an argument with a human in a black body-suit with red shoulders. "Watching some Star... something?"
"Star Trek," Kayla answered with a smirk, "and yes, I like old science fiction."
"How old are we talking?" Eskal asked, "Is this pre-holo?"
Kayla gave a quick nod, "Late 20th century, but I think it holds up. Some ideas are timeless; a desire to explore, a dream of making a better world, and the need to come together as a family. Also, they have replicators! How cool would it be to be able to produce whatever you want out of thin air?"
"I'm glad we can't! A child with access to everything imaginable? I dread to think of the consequences!"
Kayla pulled a childish tongue and shot back, "there's such a thing as a child lock, you know?"
"Really? And how well did they work against you?" Eskal asked with a hint of mischief. Kayla seemed to suddenly become interested in her screens, but she was grinning ear to ear. "Anyway, I have us a pair of guides. Fancy hitting the town?"
"I'm down for an away mission," Kayla replied, shutting down her systems with a few swipes of her paw. She paused to study the holo, watching the drama unfold between the two characters as they talked at a bar, and tapped the screen off as the credits began to roll. "Well, so long as I don't have to wear a red shirt."
"You can wear what you like," Eskal answered as he picked a few choice items out of his 'special' suitcase. Kayla felt a shiver run down her spine as she saw the weapons removed, checked and concealed about his person. "Oh, bring a breaching node, just on the off-chance."
Kayla nodded and reached for her equipment box. Breaching nodes weren't her style, under normal circumstances. As a hacker, she'd liked to work from afar, whereas the node had to be hooked directly to the target system. Her fingers massaged the smooth, black surface of the device as she studied it, remarking how innocent it looked. It could easily be mistaken for any number of common devices, yet in the wrong hands it could cause catastrophic damage to a computer system. "I shouldn't be doing this," she sighed, and shoved the node into her pocket. Finally, she slipped on a pair of black bracers. She tapped the left bracer in a seemingly random pattern, and a concealed holo-projector kicked in to provide a screen and interface. Satisfied, she dismissed the concealed system again and threw on a long-sleeved shirt. "Okay, Eskal, show me the City."

The Hall was quiet when Kadan, Skal and Kas arrived, and it barely became more lively as time went on. The offices of the Correctors were empty, as were half the desks for the regular Enforcers. The only part of the building that was busy were the cells, and that was only because of the now ever-present backlog of convicted criminals waiting to move through the Penitatas system. Kadan took the two Rejuves to the main office and told them to take a seat, pointing out a collection of folding chairs that had been placed against one wall. Pausing briefly to run a paw across his old desk, Kadan did likewise. Before long, Captain Bast emerged and acknowledged his former superior with a brief nod, then gave a warm smile to Kas. "Ah, you're back in uniform at last!"
The Medicalos beamed with pride as he answered, "Just office duties for now, and only for a few days a week."
"Well it's damn good to see you, either way," Bast said with a grin. "Truth be told, a lot of us were worried when you upped and vanished on us."
The boy accepted the words of support with a slight nod, and took a moment to adjust his uniform. Skal wore a matching outfit, albeit in the dark blue hues of a Prospect rather than the proper black of a full-fledged man of the Guild. Other Enforcers slowly filled out some of the remaining seats, but half or more remained resting on the wall when Bast finally called everyone to attention. "Gentlemen, let's have your attention! I know many of you here feel like you've drawn the short straw, and I sympathise; nobody wants to work on a holiday. However, we have visiting dignitaries this year, and to be blunt, the Guild is low on manpower as it is. This has been a year of Hell, and I don't think we're past the worst of it. Eyes to the screen." He pressed a button on a remote control and the main screen popped into life, revealing a three-way conference call between the Guildmaster, the Enforcer-General and a nervous looking young Dawnsider in his early twenties.
"Are we all here?" the Guildmaster asked, her eyes flicking back and forth as she examined displays on her end. "Excellent. Javik, you may proceed."
Javik gave an anxious smile as he spoke, "Yes, well, ah, there was an incident yesterday involving an attack, a cyber attack, on the Silverman Institute's communication satellite in orbit. The, um, the Silverman Institute is an influential organisation in both Icaran and Terran spheres of influence, you see, and I was contracted to, err, provide security software. That software was, well, triggered yesterday."
"Why does this concern us, exactly?" growled the Enforcer-General. He was a war-scarred brute and famously impatient.
"Oh... well... the files the attacker tried to access were concerning, ah, military contracts. During the Icaran Wars, the Institute was hired by the Icaran military-"
"So someone wanted to gain access to military technology on the eve of a major diplomatic event?" the Guildmaster cut in. "I thank you for bringing this to our attention. Do you have any leads as to where this attack originated?"
Javik winced, "No... well, yes. Not really. Somewhere in the City, or near it. Using the primary orbital relay, certainly. But a wise hacker could have launched the attack from, well, anywhere on the planet."
An impatient growl from the Enforcer-General put an end to any further attempts to explain. "Section commanders, I want you to chase down every script-pup and Guildless coder you know. Let's try the soft approach on this one; make it clear we're not cracking skulls or caging anyone... yet. If this was some idiot kid proving his skills, we'll let it go. If this was genuine, make it known that the Guild will remember who cooperated with them in this matter, and who kept silent. Make sure they understand we have a long, long memory."
"Alright, you heard the man!" Bast called out as the screen was shut down. "Hit the streets! Daan, you're calling the shots on Vices tonight. We've had more requests for a presence at the Eight Flags, the Sinking Light and Crowned tonight. See if you can coax some of the skyvers to come back onto the board for it. Tyy, Ulfr, you've been looking into those 'red finger' lads popping up in Outer Tenements, right? Keep them in check; last thing we need is a new gang rising up to power while we're thin as old snot rags. Corrector-Captain, anything to add?"
Kadan shook his head, "We're stuck on PR duties; putting on a nice show for the high and mighty. I'm sorry I can't lend a hand," he added.
Bast shrugged off the captain's regrets, "as far as I'm concerned, you're taking a blade for us. I wouldn't go in front of all those nobles for all the whores in Vices. Alright then, let's get to!"
The Enforcers packed up their chairs and set about their duties, retiring to offices, the armoury or the motor pool. Kadan took his rejuves into the presently empty Correctors offices and gave a vague wave towards the desks. "You have the run of the place today, Kas. Skal and I are likely to be gone all day," Kadan said as he double-checked a hand written note he'd left stuck to his monitor.
"What's happening today?" Skal asked, recalling the dignitaries they'd met that morning. "I thought all the fancy stuff happened tomorrow."
"The 'fancy stuff' is happening all week, but the Dawn King decided to bump up his meet and greet to today, and on no bloody notice either. Don't ask me why he's so keen."
Skal shifted shyly from one footpaw to the other, "And all we have to do is stand there and be polite? We're not getting some public spanking, right?"
Kadan barked out a harsh laugh, "No, you're not getting your arse tanned for the king's amusement! Just don't get it into your head you can do what you like though, or you will be!"
"Understood!" Skal answered, pressing his tail protectively against his rump at the mere thought of a royal hand taken to his rear.
Satisfied all was in hand, Kadan ordered Skal to shower and change for the day ahead. As he left Kas to it and strolled to the cafeteria to grab some liquid breakfast, the fur along his spine prickled like static. Something was in the air today, and Kadan couldn't shake the feeling he was going to be right in the middle of it...

The inner areas of The City were much more up-market than where Eskal had decided to stay. In the shadow of the palatial Lord Governor's House was an area called 'Palace Common', a public square lined with expensive stores and a handful of gated-off town-houses. Here, every store front, lighting fixture and structural support was adorned with bunting of various pastel shades, contrasting sharply with the extravagance on display in their store fronts. The Aspatrian's eye followed one such strand toward a colossal steel column, one of six dotted around the perimeter of the Common, and followed it up toward a mesh of hexagonal plates being fixed into place along the inner curve of the dome and the upper levels of the pillars. In the centre of the grid there appeared to be a hole in the dome, allowing her to gaze up at the vivid, pink-touched sky. It was only when one of the hexagons vanished that she realised she was looking at a projection. "Seems a lot of work, making a fake sky. Why not just take the dome down?"
Eskal paused and followed Kayla's gaze. He too studied the forming screen system and licked his teeth thoughtfully as he considered an answer. "Well, I would imagine it's a lot safer to put those projectors up than to try and dismantle a colony dome. Cheaper too, most likely."
The pair brought their attention back down to the ground. The two Penitatas were bundles of anxious energy, always eager to be spoken to but never actually calling out unprompted. Eskal gave the pair a toothy smile as he tried to guess what it was they wanted him to focus on. "Now boys, what do we need to know about the Common?"
Ros turned North, sweeping his arm towards the vast courtyard. There was a small bunker next to a larger, fenced-off area. "That's where they're setting up for the Birthing festival! There's going to be music, fireworks, and the unveiling of the noble heirs!"
"I've been meaning to ask. Is this 'Birthing' what it sounds like?" Kayla directed her question to Eskal.
The Dawnsider nodded, "oh yes. Our women become fertile all around the same time, barring the occasional irregularity. As a result, we're all born around the same time as well. Some will come before or after the 'official' Birthing, but this is the week chosen to welcome everyone into the world, and wave farewell to those who leave."
Kayla cocked her head, puzzled by the final comment. "Those who leave? Not 'those who have died'?"
Eskal made an anxious face, barring his teeth and taking a long breath in before replying, "I'm not sure how to explain this in a way you'll understand. You're from a society where everyone is practically immortal, and where death is something to be feared. Things aren't like that in most Kyyreni societies. Life is short, and how someone dies is as important as how they lived. Some of us, when we get old and infirm, don't want to be a burden on our families, and it is considered a noble thing to... move on."
Kayla's jaw dropped in horror. "You mean people commit suicide during this holiday?"
"It's not as crude as you make it sound," Eskal replied, defensively. "It's planned ahead of time, usually as a family. Everyone says their goodbyes, the old get to see the new generation into the world, and the priests will guide them to the next. It's easier, in some ways, than waiting for nature to take its course. I had to watch my father die in his bed, growing weaker day by day. He'd sleep for hours, only waking for a few minutes at a time. Then one day he woke up in agony, and he barely had the strength to call for aid. We... the House doctor applied a morphine drip to stop him waking up again. After that, it was just a matter of waiting, watching his breathing slow hour by hour until the Shepherd took him."
"I... I'm sorry," Kayla said, unsure of how to reply to the unexpected confession.
The brief look of sorrow on Eskal's muzzle faded quickly as he shrugged off the memory, "I shouldn't have burdened you with that. Being back with my own kind is bringing all kinds of memories to the surface. My point, Kayla, is that some of us would like to be remembered as strong, healthy, and happy. Of course, there's another option now. Who knows? Maybe the Birthing will become a time for mass Rejuvenation instead?"
Kayla gave a nod of encouragement, turning her attention back to the covered stage as she said to their guides, "they must put a lot of shows on if they have a permanent stage?"
Ros grimaced at the comment. "It's not just for shows, ma'am."
"Let's get something to eat," Eskal cut in quickly, verbally and physically steering Kayla away from the conversation. They headed west toward a collection of food stands, but behind the brightly coloured carnival fronts, Kayla's eyes caught sight of what she suspected Eskal wished to remain concealed. She turned away as if examining the food vendors, pointing out a promising little cart on the far side of the group. The grin on Eskal's face indicated he was happy to oblige, and as they approached the Aspatrian looked north once more. Behind the bunker, now clearly visible over the heads of people milling about, was a Kyyreni male stood upon a raised platform. His face was drawn and despairing, his blond fur stained with  dried-in liquids and bits of unidentified material. He had no means to clean himself as he was bound tightly in a metal frame that barely gave him room to squirm.
"So, that's what passes for justice around here?" Kayla asked through barred teeth.
Eskal glanced round, following her gaze to the man in the stockade. To her surprise, he tapped her on the shoulder as he passed, walking towards the man. Pausing to check on the two Penitatas who hovered by her side, unsure of where to go, Kayla weaved through the crowd after the Kyyreni. When they caught up, Eskal pulled himself onto the raised platform where the man was bound and leaned upon the restraining metalwork. "Good day," he said, jovially. "My Aspatrian friend was curious as to why you're here, bare-furred and smelling of rotten produce."
A flicker of anger passed over the man's muzzle, but either exhaustion or survival instinct kept his voice meek as he replied, "Stole from the gambling house across the way. Made off with the day's takings."
Eskal gave a soft moan of sympathy, "you're a Guild man, I take it? Stole from your own?" the prisoner nodded as best he could. "Oh, that was not wise. How long have you been here?"
"Since sun-up," the man whispered. "Didn't say when they'd let me go..."
Hopping down to rejoin his companion, and unheeding or uncaring of the eyes upon him after his little stunt, Eskal scratched his chin and said to Kayla, "He betrayed people who trusted him and stole from them. Not sure how much, but it could easily be tens of thousands, maybe more. How would you punish a man who stole a year's wages from his employer?"
"That much? He'd probably end up a Penitatas," Kayla replied.
Eskal nodded. "Don't look directly at them, but there's a pair of Dawnsiders over my right shoulder, a man and a woman in black and green. I think they're part of the Gambling Guild, the people our friend here stole from. You might have noticed the man trying and failing to put his hand on a concealed weapon. He's been stood up there for a few hours, naked and abused. He's been pelted with rotten food, and I suspect someone tossed a jar of piss over him for good measure. If I were to place a wager, I'd say he'll be let down in the evening, when he's all but passed out from exhaustion. Then they'll drag him, tired, thirsty and filthy, to the feet of some higher up. He'll beg for another chance, he'll cry like a bitch, he'll promise anything and everything to try and get his life back... and they'll relent. He'll be demoted, he certainly won't be handling coin for a while, but they'll clean him and feed him and let him back into the fold. Your way would give him ten to twenty years of Hell; he'll get his life back tomorrow. But he won't forget today, not ever."
"In my experience, it's never that simple," Kayla replied, crossing her arms and setting her jaw as though she were a parent dealing with a smart-mouthed boy. "Plenty of Penitatas screw up, even during their sentences. Penitatas break the rules, even break the law, and they get the bruises and blisters in return... but I've never known a Penny to change from a single spanking, no matter how harsh. I'm sure public humiliation makes the crowd feel like justice has been served, but a Penny needs more than that. They need someone who can help them make sense of their feelings, and learn right and wrong. Coming to terms with a mistake can take weeks, months, even years at - what are you smirking about?"
Eskal gave a playful chuckle, "Sorry, I'm just trying to work out what crimes you committed as a Penny. Don't try to tell me you aren't speaking from personal experience here."
Kayla's ears flattened against her skull. "Once your sentence is over, the records are sealed. I don't have to talk about that part of my life anymore," she answered quietly.
"And yet, you can always tell when a man's done wrong. Something in the eyes, isn't there?" the Dawnsider gave a stiff smile and quickly turned away. "Come on, my lass! I want to introduce you to upo, the greatest food ever conceived in all the galaxy!"
It turned out that upo were little blue balls of soft pastry. They were served from a steaming cart in little cardboard trays, and each portion was about the size of a tennis ball. They looked sticky, with a glistening, sugary coating on the outside, but the vendor provided paper towels with each serving. Sticky fingers were the least of Eskal's concerns, and he used his bare fingers to stuff the pastry into his maw with little regard for the mess he made. The Kyyreni closed his eyes and gave a long murr of pleasure as the dark, sticky sauce dribbled down his chin. "I wasn't truly home until now," he said with a blissful sigh. "I tried making my own, but I could never get it right."
Snickering at the display, and noting the equally shameless wolfing down from the two Penitatas, Kayla shrugged and followed suit, coating her digits in sweet sugar as she bit deep into the ball. She'd expected the fluffy texture and the sweetness, but the hot, sour tang of the meat caught her off guard. As she finished, the heat lingered, clinging to her tongue and teeth. "Well, that was different," she said with a diplomat's smile. "I don't think I've had sugar and sour before."
"There's other kinds too," Hafn piped up, licking sauce from his lips. "On special occasions they make hrummon upo, sort of a crunchier kind with sweeter meats! I think I saw a stall... over there?"
Kayla couldn't help but grin at the obvious ploy. She couldn't help but think back to holidays spent as a Hard Timer, forced to watch other people having fun as she fretted her own impending misery. While she knew hardly anything about what life as a Penitatas was like for the two boys, she assumed that sweets and sugary buns were not part of their usual diet. "I'm not sure we should be plying these two with treats," she said in a teasing tone as she glanced sidelong at Eskal, who like her had clearly picked up the boy's true intentions, "I wouldn't want to be a bad influence."
"Oh yes, I'd hate for their master to think we'd spoiled them," Eskal answered with feigned concern. "If she found out we were stuffing her little criminals with sweeties she wouldn't let them out with us again."
It took a great deal of effort for the young Aspatrian not to burst out laughing as she looked down at the hungry, eager faces of the two boys. Wide-eyed, with their pastel coloured fur, they looked positively adorable. Yet there was also a certain sense of pleasure to be had in the situation; she was acting as a Penitatas care-giver, and she had personal knowledge of what that meant. She had also been fortunate to know Penitatas parents who understood that sometimes bending the rules a little did far more good than harm. Composing herself so as to sound firm and serious, she told the boys, "you can both have one more treat each, seeing as it's a holiday, but no more. I expect you to thank us by being as good as gold," she added, not that the boys had been anything but shy and quiet up until now. Still, as she was all too familiar, stern warnings were a part of Penny life.
For their part, it seemed the boys utterly missed the warning she gave, and were both far more interested in arguing over what their 'treat' was going to be. After a brief, but heated exchange, Eskal waded in and sided with Ros, steering the four of them to a stall that sold strips of deep-fried vegetable. They were highly spicy, the kind of deep-burn heat that made Kayla's teeth ache, but the boys seemed more than happy to have them. After finishing their snacks, Eskal nodded towards the gates of the Palace itself, causing Kayla to subconsciously check the node was still in her pocket. Just like that, the fun of the day had bled away, leaving the sombre duty they had come to perform.
There was a crowd at the gates, which stood open to allow the chosen few to pass. Here, like everywhere else, bunting and festive decorations were placed wherever they could be, and the carnival air it provided contrasted sharply with the statues of heroes lining the path to the main building. Kyyreni palace guards had set up a barricade outside the gates to keep some space between the entrance and the onlookers, with a path along one side so they could grant access to any guests arriving on foot. Eskal confidently pushed toward that entrance, holding his head up high as he loudly and clearly announced to the guard, "I am Eskal son of Brahlt, born to the House of Tu'ri and here on behalf of the Terran Confederation. I request entrance for myself and my entourage."
The guard looked the four over with the air of a man who would much rather be anywhere else than in their company, but he waved them through without incident after the briefest of glances to his handheld terminal. Beyond the palace gates lay a well-kept garden with flagged and gravel paths, flower beds and statues to various gods and heroes. It was a strange sight, given the artificial nature of the City, to see such abundant greenery. Kayla assumed this was simply a display of wealth and prowess; only the rich could enjoy the natural world beneath an artificial sky. The main doors were wide open to greet them, with more guards and servants lurking beyond the threshold, as well as a handful of other guests. Here, the party were given a quick search. Kayla's bracers were inspected, but as part of their design they could be passed off as personal data units, and she was merely told to shut them down.
"From here on out, trust no-one," Eskal whispered to Kayla as they passed into the main reception area. "These people may well try to flatter us, but they'll knife us in the back given half a chance."
"And I thought you said they slashed you from the front," Kayla quipped back, recalling Eskal's flippant tone with the Enforcer earlier.
"I'm deadly serious!" the Dawnsider growled in reply. "These men are killers, Kayla. That's not hyperbole or metaphor; here, power is won through blood and steel. I doubt there's a Lord in this room who didn't win his title by opening another man's throat, and it's kept in the same way. The wrong word in the wrong place can be an insult that demands blood to answer it. Treat every single man and boy here as someone who is looking for an excuse to kill you."
Kayla raised an eyebrow at Eskal's tone, but thought better of pressing the matter. The Kyyreni had proven to be flippant, elusive and often uncooperative, but there was a focus in his eyes and a hardness in his voice that she had not yet seen. Instead, she turned her attention to the anxious Penitatas. "If we were coming here all along, why bring the boys?"
"It looks good to travel in the company of slaves," Eskal replied honestly. "Judging by the positions we've seen Penitatas hold, I'd guess that owning them is something of a status symbol. It never hurts to impress."
Their entrance was without ceremony. Where Kayla had expected some steward or butler figure to announce them, there was only the briefest of glances from a formally dressed guard before his eyes turned forward again. Arrayed about the room were forty or so people spread across three groups, each of whom were positioned far enough apart to be clearly distinct. Almost everyone present was a Kyyreni of some kind or another, overwhelmingly Dawnsiders. Their attire was an eclectic mix, ranging from gilt-laden tunics to multi-layered, floor-length garbs. Mixed in were men and women in military uniforms, and one dressed in the manner of a barbarian king of old. Kayla recognised the black armour of the Enforcer's Guild, and a moment later realised it was worn by the same Dawnsider they'd made planetfall with. While she didn't make it out for certain, it seemed likely there was a young Dawnsider behind him, concealed by the group.
"That group surrounds the Lord Governor, that one the Dawn King, and the third... family," Eskal said with a smile. "Oh, but who to pay respects to first?"
It was obvious by his grin and the softening of his tone which group Eskal favoured. Kayla played her part obligingly. "I would be delighted to get to know your family better."
Needing no further encouragement, Eskal led her to the third group, slotting himself neatly between a young Nightsider in a flight uniform and an aging Dawnsider in the colours of a minor House. It seemed that Kayla wasn't alone in comparing Eskal to his brother, judging by the flicker of eye movement in almost every head. "Hello, Vaahn," Eskal said with a smile.
Vaahn turned, studying his brother with a curious look upon his muzzle. He was slightly taller than Eskal and broader at the shoulders, although the heavy fur cloak he wore made him appear broader still. Vaahn's face was sharper, his muzzle more narrow, but the general outline of his features, the colour of the eyes and the matching shade of blond marked them as kin. Kayla's attention was drew to Vaahn's left eye and the deep scar that ran across it. It was more than a mere wound; it left a visible indentation into the flesh, leaving the Aspatrian to wonder how the doctors had saved the man's eye. She watched as Vaahn's expression changed from one of curiosity to disbelief. "It cannot be," he growled with a voice that purred with in-built anger, as though every syllable was delivered through barred fangs.
"It's good to see you, brother," Eskal said with a broad grin, taking a half-step forward. He raised a hand in greeting, only to be gripped in a tight bear-hug and hoisted off his feet. Kayla couldn't help but smirk at the undignified yelp Eskal made at the unexpected assault.
"Blood and iron! It's you! It's really you! Gods, I never imagined you'd still be alive!" Vaahn cried, his words carried on a deep, hearty laugh of joy. He dropped Eskal back onto his foot-paws and turned his eye to Kayla, taking a moment to study her with a smile upon his muzzle. "And you have found yourself an Aspatrian. I approve."
Eskal cleared his throat quickly, "Oh, no. We're strictly colleagues, there's nothing between us."
"A pity," Vaahn replied, letting his gaze linger on Kayla a moment longer. There was a predatory edge to it, like a hunter sizing up a quarry. With a a subtle roll of the shoulders to resettle his heavy cloak, Vaahn drew himself to his full height and announced, "I am Vaahn son of Brahlt son of Garo; formerly of the Line T'rol, now Vaahn of Legend; King of Icara and founder of the Royal House of Vaahn."
With a faint smile upon her lips, Kayla straightened herself in kind, clasped her hands above the base of her tail and answered smartly, "My name is Kayla Sophia Ackart, CEO and founder of Ackart Enterprises. I don't think I've ever been called a 'Legend', but I have saved the Earth, and possibly the entire Confederation. Does that count?"
Vaahn let out a long chuckle, a stark contrast to the trembling maws and wrinkled snouts of disdain from the other members of the group, and the concerned eyebrow raising of Eskal. "No it does not," the Icaran King answered as his arms folded across his chest and his tail gave a playful flick. "A Legend is one who founds a noble bloodline, recognised by the highest offices of the Dawn Kingdom. You have to be Kyyreni to be Legend, and even then, simply being famous is not enough."
Eskal placed a hand on his brother's forearm. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he whispered, "perhaps we should catch up somewhere a little less public? I'd rather not have my life be the subject of gossip. Oh, and do you think your man here could keep an eye on my Penny boys?"
Vaahn glanced to the human in Enforcer-black armour stood close by. A quick word later, the frustrated soldier beckoned Hafn and Ros to his side, and the King of Icara led Eskal and Kayla away from the group, and the hall altogether. One of the House Guard tried to protest as Vaahn walked from the hall towards the library, but it was as though the scarred king could not see or hear him. When at last Vaahn stopped at the library door and placed a hand purposely upon the hilt of one of the swords he wore, the young guard backed away swiftly. Vaahn pushed the door open, glanced about to ensure the room was empty, and stood aside for his guests to enter. "So, where do we begin?" Vaahn asked. Kayla still struggled with his accent, which made every word seem delivered as a threat.
Eskal circled the edge of the room, finding a stool in the corner and perching upon it. His cheery smile frosted over as he let the facade slip, allowing his ears to flatten and his tail to become a dead weight behind him. "I didn't ask to slip away to chat about the old days, or compare our separate lives. The truth is that we need access to the Lord Governor's systems I know that-"
"Be silent," Vaahn growled. It was a low utterance, barely above a whisper, yet it shut down Eskal's explanation in an instant. "You were gone for damn near fifty years without a single word to me or anyone else, and you come back here just to use me?"
Eskal's gaze lowered to the floor. Perched in the corner, he looked all too much like a punished child. "That the fact I had to stoop so low, that I would betray you like this, I hope that tells you how vital our mission is. I swear on my life, I would not have done it this way if I believed there was any other choice. We believe Brunnel is making a bio-weapon, something that could cost billions of Confederate lives, maybe even wipe out the Human race. If you doubt my word, brother, then kill me where I sit. All I ask is that you forgive Kayla and the boys of my sins."
Vaahn trembled where he stood, eyes ablaze. His paws slowly curled around the hilts of his twin swords, and the gentle sound of his sharp nails making contact with the steel pommels echoed with unnatural volume in the tense room. His gaze flickered toward Kayla, and the Aspatrian saw in his gaze a fury she had rarely seen even in the company of hardened criminals. She had seen malice, hatred and sadism in the eyes of both Penitatas and those who had abused her in the past, and she knew with absolute certainty that if Eskal's blind gamble failed she would not leave the room alive. The hiss of steel burned her ears as Vaahn slowly drew his blades from their silk-padded sheaths. They were not straight-edged weapons as the scabbards suggested, but instead each bore a full-length flamberge pattern. Eskal's gaze rose to meet the blades, which Vaahn head with tips pointed toward his brother. "You recognise these, I hope," he growled in a tone of cold fury. "They belonged to our father. I say that, but the truth of it is these blades have been repaired and reshaped so many times I have to wonder if there is anything of father's blade left. Perhaps they only resemble what they were. Perhaps they are impostors, mocking everything they pretend to represent..." It seemed for a long time that Vaahn would plunge the blades into Eskal's chest, yet after an eternity of tense waiting the king slowly lowered the blades. With a pained grunt he added, "I have been responsible for the deaths of too many family members. I have no wish to add you to the tally."
Kayla let out the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding, and with a somewhat bashful nod from Eskal, she got to work. A terminal access on the main desk gave her somewhere to plug in the breaching node, and with a few quick taps of her claws on her armbands their true functionality was enabled. Being the planet's equivalent of a presidential office it was natural to assume the Lord Governor's House would be well-guarded against cyber-attack, but just as a castle wall offered no protection from an attack from within, the system safeguards were ill-suited to physical infiltration. "Going red!" Kayla announced to herself, and her fingers danced against a virtual interface as she began her invasion. She allowed herself an inward smirk as she slipped into the Lord Governor's personal journals, not due to the ease but because her programs returned the password as 'Ulfbehr', the name of the nobleman who had first raised House Vaskal to the highest office on Taviksaad. The Kyyreni spy had been right; the user was the weakest point of any system.
"Not much here so far. Brunnel's only mentioned twice in the Lord's personal files; once when he was suggested to help with Rejuve Day, and another when he was dismissed. Seems the Lord Vaskal didn't understand why Brunnel stayed on planet," Kayla explained as her intrusion protocols analysed years worth of information in the blink of an eye, returning key search terms instantly. "Moving on to confidential files," she added, preempting Eskal's suggestion. The Aspatrian knew she had to be careful, for tripping the system at this point would leave them with no hope of escape. Experience and instinct steered her well, allowing her to choose targets that could be overridden without fear. Information danced before her eyes, but it wasn't enough to simply obtain data and run; she had to know what to look for, and how to make patterns from the chaos. "Brunnel's still on planet, and you thought he had Ank's support, right? So let's try land ownership. It says here that the land Brunnel's lab is built on belonged to House Rohr up until about... three years ago. Then it was won by House Daahl, reverted to House Vaskal when they disbanded, and it was given away last year to House Tavik."
To the surprise of both Kayla and Eskal, Vaahn growled out a reply, "Lord Rohr is an isolationist with a burning hatred of the Homeworld; Daahl was wiped out in disgrace, and given that the Taahl Tavik married the Lord Governor's only daughter we can assume the land exchange was a wedding gift. This is a dead end."
"Unless they're conspiring together," Eskal countered. "Kayla, any links between Brunnel and House Tavik?"
Vaahn gave an impatient growl in reply as the Aspatrian's fingers danced her way through another thread of data. "You really have no idea what's happening here, do you? The Lord Governor's a sycophant, desperately trying to win favour of Ank in the hope it'll elevate his world to something other than a shit-hole backwater. He's all but destroyed himself trying to make this Rejuve project work because Ank needs it. He is not going to be conspiring to commit genocide against Earth - a stunt like that would see this world burn!"
"I think I have to agree with your brother," Kayla said anxiously. "I can't find anything, Eskal. There's no smoking gun. There's no links to anyone here on Taviksaad, at least not on any system I'm comfortable attacking."
Eskal looked as though he was about to sob as Kayla's words sunk in. "Get out of the system," he hissed, his jaw trembling as his eyes slowly crossed to Vaahn. The two brothers studied one another; Vaahn, older chronologically, wore the younger skin. Physically he was in his twenties, and despite the scars he wore the years well. Eskal, who had always bore hints of middle age, seemed to wither by the second. He opened his mouth to utter something, but the words refused to come.
"So it all came to nothing," Vaahn noted quietly. "Wouldn't be the first time, would it? You never did have much luck with your little projects."
"I don't care that we failed! I care that I destroyed any hope I had to rebuild our relationship! I had it all planned out in my head, how I'd contact you on Icara and we'd drink until dawn. I even have a bottle of ourl left from when I departed! You remember, don't you? You gave me three bottles because-"
"-because you'll never find anything but piss to drink off-world. I remember. It would be nice to drink that together," Vaahn gripped his brother by the shoulder and shook him gently, "we can still do that. Put an end to whatever it is you came here to do, then come home with me to Icara. I have a son, Jasat, and a daughter, Ika. They'd love to meet you."
Eskal let out a long, shaking laugh as his anxieties left him. He seemed to grow in stature, becoming young and strong again as Kayla watched. "Does your son know you named him after an Aspatrian concubine?"
Vaahn grinned as he replied, "Jas is alive, Eskal. I'm sure he'd be keen to see you again as well."
At long last, the two brothers seemed to settle into one another's company, and Kayla took the opportunity to wipe any trace of her activities before disabling her bracers and hiding the node back into her pocket. She finished not a moment too soon, for almost immediately a member of the House poked her muzzle cautiously into the room, sheepishly requesting the trio return to the main hall. It was time for the formal greetings to begin.

The Ball had been unbearably dull for Skal, especially as Sam was kept apart from him for almost all of it. Due to her 'damaged immune system' she was made to sit in a private room until required, although he had at least been given permission to spend a little time with her. She had a nurse with her, a Dawnsider woman who constantly reminded Sam not to touch Skal or share any kind of cutlery or utensil. It quickly grew tiresome. Worse, perhaps, was how awkward Sam appeared, as though she were afraid to speak in the nurse's company. It was only when they briefly had the room to themselves that Sam finally talked to him properly. "I really don't want to do this," she whimpered, glancing down at her arms. The casts and bandages were gone, but the scar tissue showed clearly through her fur.
"You'll be fine," Skal answered firmly. He wished he could hold her. More than anything in the world, he wanted to feel her body against his own, to hug and comfort the girl he loved on the eve of what might be the most important moment of her life.
The blonde Penny gave a long, huffing sigh. "The priest said this would make everything better, but I don't know how! Will.. will people see me clasping the king's arm and think 'wow, Penitatas might not be so bad after all'? Or... will he give me a pardon? I don't know how this is meant to help me."
Skal bit his lip, unsure of how best to answer, "I don't know what a priest could know about today," he ventured, "but I think it's just about being seen in a new light. I got to show people how Penitatas were being treated cruelly, and now at least the worst abuses have stopped. I guess it's going to be like that today? Maybe, maybe everyone's making it up as they go along, and we just have to do a lot of little things to make things better for ourselves? What if someone watches this Broadcast and sees you, then the next day they go to work and see another Penny girl who's so overworked she's crying for exhaustion and he thinks 'that's not fair', so he has a word with her master and... and things get a little bit better."
A wide, thankful smile spread across Sam's muzzle as Skal stumbled to the end of his speech. She bit her bottom lip in a way she often did when she had mischief on her mind, and Skal felt a longing tingle through his body. "So you're saying I'm going to make people's lives better today?"
"I know you are!" Skal answered, using his arms to punctuate the message. "Just remember, this Penitatas thing hasn't even been going a year yet! There's bound to be something special planned for Rejuve day, and the priests are involved in every other holiday so-" the boy caught himself just in time, easing himself down from the emotional high he'd built up and adding in a more calm, thoughtful tone, "-well, we don't know anything for certain, but wouldn't it be nice to think maybe they'll give us less time on our sentence? Or maybe skip a punishment day?"
"It would," Sam answered with a heavy hint of longing.
Far too soon the nurse ushered him out and back into the company of his master. He didn't dare press the matter, but as a result he was stuck stifling yawns by Kadan's side for the rest of the ball, with nothing to do but fret about Sam. He'd imagined what the ball would be like, even daring to dream that he might be able to speak to someone who had served aboard the Indestructible, but not a soul in the room acknowledged his existence except Kadan, and that was only to make sure the boy was keeping still. He caught sight of Hafn and Ros later on in the event, but all they could do was smile and shyly wave at one another, never getting close enough to ask what had brought the unlikely boys to this formal event.
Then at last, the announcements began and most of the guests filed toward the back of the room. Sam walked out in the company of a nurse who led her to the middle of the growing space. As the Penny girl shifted about anxiously, the nurse took a pack of sanitary wipes and scrubbed her arms, saying something to her that was hard to hear but sounded like, "can't have you giving the King anything." Then she was left alone, but only briefly, as the Lord Governor took the opportunity to approach her.
The man was gaunt to the point of starved. Stress had bled his fur of colour, and his flesh hung loose off the bone. His eyes were hollowed and reddened from lack of rest, and his voice was a dry rasp when he spoke. "All eyes will be upon you, child," the Lord Governor hissed as he knelt before Sam, clutching her hands tightly to emphasise his message. "You represent so much here today. You represent the Penitatas and all Rejuves; you represent the City; you represent all of Taviksaad. Billions will watch you grasp the King, and you will become the symbol of the new age. Do us proud!"
"You're hurting me!" Sam whimpered, squirming in the Lord Governor's vice-like grip. The Kyyreni glanced down at Sam's paws in surprise, and released her. She shied away, clutching her arms to her stomach and bowing her head, trying not to whimper. Clearly disappointed in her, the Lord Vaskal growled something wordless and stepped aside. Sam's head cocked just enough that she could see Skal in the corner of her eye, and catching her glance he mouthed a silent word of encouragement. Slowly, the girl composed herself, and awaited what was to come.
With dignitaries, Broadcast Guild members and security of every stripe properly positioned, Ank T'uoda stepped forward. Like the Lord Governor, there were clear signs of ill-health, but where the rapid deterioration of Lord Vaskal was shocking to see, Ank's condition was surprising for its relative lack of severity. Mongrels were notorious for suffering all manner of afflictions, and living into their forties was all but unheard of, yet Ank wore the years surprisingly well. True, he was greying all over, with both thinning of the limbs and bloating of the stomach, but he seemed far healthier than his local counterpart. The aged Dawn King stood before the shaking Penitatas with his hands clasped firmly above the base of his tail, and with a voice that was kinder in tone than she'd expected he greeted her, "So, you must be Samantha? That's an unusual name."
"I was adopted by humans," Sam replied, rubbing her arms together nervously.
Seeing her trepidation, Ank gave a light chuckle and knelt down to better look into her eyes. "My brother was adopted by humans much the same way you were. I hear tell they gave him a hard childhood, but he came out rather well in the end. How do you find life as a Penitatas, Sam?"
The girl winced at the question. "I... it's hard, your highness. It's not as fun as being a real child."
"I shouldn't think so," Ank replied, pausing briefly to cough into a handkerchief. Sam turned away as the man coughed loudly, and her stomach churned at the scowl the Lord Governor aimed at her.
"I-I think being a Penny is right for me though!" Sam added quickly, "I won't be breaking the law ever again!
There was a long pause as the Dawn King caught his breath, but Sam sensed amusement in the curve of his brow. "It's that effective a system, is it? Less than a year and you're smacked back onto the straight and true? Commendable."
Ank extended an arm toward the girl, who grasped it as expected. There was a brief ripple of sound at the contact, like a hundred voices all giving a grunt of approval. Through a well-rehearsed smile, Ank whispered to the nervous girl, "There, your Lord Governor's grand project has the blessings it requires. Perhaps in a few years time, you'll be able to give an honest answer as to how effective this Penny system is."
The moment was spoiled by a sudden, violent retching sound, followed by a loud thud as the Lord Vaskal collapsed onto the lacquered wood of the ballroom floor. Cries of alarm erupted from all sides, and a pair of guards rushed forward to firmly pull the Dawn King away from Sam and the onlookers. "It burns!" Vaskal shrieked, flailing his arms as though he were on fire. His hands were blistering red, the fur raining off them with every jerk and swing.
Ank studied his own paw, rubbing a thumb firmly across his palm and wincing at the contact. He fixed Sam with a look of horror and spat, "what did you do, child?"
Then the Dawn King fell to his knees, paws curled in pain, and his head hit the floor before the guards could reach him.