For the first time since moving into his new home, Skal slept soundly. He knew he'd slept well because he woke to find Kadan had already risen and begun his day without ever stirring the six year old Kyyreni Penitatas. After a yawn, a stretch and a session of scratching his furry sac that lasted far longer than was needed, Skal picked up yesterdays clothes, sniffed them and decided something fresh was in order. He didn't mind his clothes smelling of Sam - in fact, he welcomed it - but he suspected other people might pass comment.
It took a little time to remember the layout of the place. They had far more rooms than they needed, and the living space was spread across three floors if you counted the attic. It didn't help that all the door markings had been taken away when the Co-op shuttered the building, meaning the only way to tell a bedroom from a latrine was to poke his head through the door. Salvation came just as the boy was wondering if it was worth trying to relieve himself in a sink instead, and feeling much lighter he bounded upstairs to knock on Sam's door and wake her for breakfast, only to hear her giggling on the landing. He stumbled to a halt and peered through the ironwork handrail, seeing Sam on the landing and apparently flirting with Haal. The pair wore only whitish towels to preserve their modesty, and their fur was damp from the showers.
Sam glanced toward Skal, paused, and gave him a puzzled look. "Why are you hiding over there?" she chuckled, prompting Skal ascend the last few steps and approach.
"Morning," he said, but the eagerness had faded. "You had another shower?"
Sam hesitated, studying her partner's face. "Yes? Back home I had to shower every day. Don't you?"
"I... not always," he replied weakly. "I just- no, nevermind. I'm going to get breakfast."
The boy headed to the kitchen with a dark cloud over his head. Kas was playing chef when he arrived. "We're having eggs and printed meat again, but there should be a proper food delivery tomorrow. On the plus side, I found some ground pepper-seed and suntear that I'm almost certain hasn't expired yet!" The boy announced as he made a mess of trying to toss the pan and almost falling off the stool he used to reach the hob.
By the time the food was served, Sam and Haal had arrived to join them. The eggs in question were from one of the native bird-like species of Taviksaad and prized for their ability to make the more expensive non-native alternatives worth the cost, and protein printed meat had a wrongness to its texture that spoiled its otherwise passable flavour. Skal collected his cutlery from the washer and took a seat opposite Sam, with Haal to her right. The newest member of the household placed down two cutlery sets; Sam's, which like Skal's was utilitarian, and his own, which was nothing less than a work of art. A patient silversmith had produced a six-piece set of knives, forks and spoons fit for the Lord Governor himself, painstakingly adding decorative ribs and whorls and finishing each with a subtle crest of the Enforcer's Guild at the very edge of the handles. Haal selected the main dish fork and meat knife from his own set, gave them a cursory wipe with a scarlet cloth, then took Sam's own generic-use knife and fork and did the same. Only after preparing the utensils did he seem to notice Skal at all, and then only because the Penitatas boy was the only one with food in front of them. "Does the kitchen operate on a first come, first serve basis?" Haal asked.
"The kitchen operates on a 'free for all' basis," Kas replied. "I'll have another plate done in a minute."
Skal pushed his plate an inch toward Sam. "You can have this one if you want? Saves you waiting."
The girl gave a grateful smile in reply, and Haal took a moment to examine the offering. "Regulation breakfast requires one serving of vegetables, bread or other grain products to one serving of meat, plus one-half serving of secondary protein. This is an incomplete breakfast"
"Like I told Skal, we're getting a food delivery tomorrow," Kas answered after a short pause. Haal seemed not to notice the subtle tensing of the boy, or did not care if he had. After a tut of disapproval, Haal set about cutting Sam's food and helping her eat.
"I have the day off," Skal told Sam with a smile. "No school and no Enforcer duties. What do you want to do?"
Before the girl could answer, Haal cut in. "I would refrain from making plans until Corrector-Captain Kadan has provided more information on her daily routine. I need to determine whether Sam is to return to the Penitatas school, and I wish to arrange a medical visit as soon as possible."
"Oh," Skal replied weakly. Sam struggled to offer her own input as Haal was practically force-feeding her, and by the time the former captain's own food was produced Sam's plate was almost cleared.
"Look at the bright side. We live together now, so when things get back to normal that'll mean lots more time together. We just have to tough it out for a few more days, right?" It wasn't clear who her question was directed to. Haal certainly showed no interest in answering as he ate with haste, delivering precisely-cut forkfuls of food into his muzzle with speed and mechanical precision. "Hey, maybe we can ask Kadan about changing rooms?"
Haal raised a finger sharply at the comment. Once he'd finished chewing and swallowing his mouthful he said sternly, "there will be no talk of altering arrangements. I think you both know precisely why you are not permitted to share a bedroom."
"But I'm allowed to share with you," Sam said. Her tone was innocent enough, but Skal noticed the slightly twitch of Haal's lip and the subtle warming of his muzzle. It lit a fire under the Penny boy. Without realising, Skal bared his shark-like teeth as a low growl escaped his throat. Both Haal and Sam snapped their gaze toward him, breaking the spell.
With an awkward clearing of the throat, Skal looked away mumbling, "Just isn't fair."
"No, few things in this life are," Haal answered as he finished his meal. He took a moment to wipe down the cutlery he'd used, making certain that they were spotless before returning them to their case. "Now, if you will excuse us, we have a full day ahead. I hope you will be equally productive with yours. Corrector Kas, Prospect Skal."
After Haal had escorted Sam away, Kas dropped into the chair beside Skal and delivered two plates of food. "By the Gods, Watch-Captain Haal as a sodding new recruit! 'Errr, excuse me! This is not a regulation breakfast! There should be meat and vegetables and nyer nyer nyer!'"
Skal burst out laughing at Kas' disrespectful impression of his fellow Medicalos. The room seemed to brighten up, and he was able to eat at long last. "It sucks losing my free day with Sam though," he sighed between mouthfuls.
"So switch the day! Come downstairs with me and I'll find something for you to study, even if it's just sitting in and watching whatever Torn or Emyl are doing. When Sam's freed up a little, I'll talk to the captain about letting you claim your day off back."
"You really think he'd let me do that?"
Kas shrugged, "nothing to lose by trying, right? Worst case scenario, you've had one extra day of study. There are worse fates."
"True. Thanks, Kas," the Penny boy said with a grin, and the pair returned their attention to their basic breakfasts.

Midday was still an hour away, but already the day had soured in Kadan's view. He'd been summoned to the Palace again. Try as the Kyyreni might, he struggled to remember what it was like when he was a mere line captain with little knowledge of the ruling class beyond a distant acknowledgement of their existence. He had hoped, deep down and fervently, that young Wokun wouldn't take after his father, that he would trust the Guild to do its business and not involve himself personally. When Kadan arrived to find both the Enforcer-General and the Guildmaster herself also in attendance, such hopes were quashed.
They'd met in a memorial garden in the rear of the Palace grounds. It was a sombre space, lined with tall hedges of green and yellow and dominated by tasteful spirals of stone plinths, most of which were empty, with the minority each displaying a small, ornate prayer fetish. Kadan didn't get close enough to study the markings, but it was easy enough to guess; prayers of safe passage, or some great deed the dead soul had performed.
Wokun had been flanked by the Lord and Lady Tavik. Stood side by side, Taahl looked far more the ruler than Wokun, being still fair of face thanks to having never challenged Kadan to a brawl. Ylari looked tired, but the cause was obvious; the young cub she carried, swaddled in silk and bound securely to her breast. No doubt Wokun took comfort from his sister's presence, Kadan mused upon seeing them together, having both lost a father in sudden, terrible circumstances.
"I hear that an attempt was made on Watch-Captain Haal's life," Wokun announced unprompted, without a hint of greeting. "I trust he is recovering?"
"He is, Lord," the Guildmaster answered with a slight bow. "He is now a Medicalos, and has transferred to the Office of Correctors."
"I see. It is a shame to lose him. It is on the matter of the Correctors and their charges I wished to speak first. Captain Kadan, your Penitatas has mandated, 'unearned' punishments, yes?"
"That's right," Kadan affirmed. "It was his idea, probably trying to-"
"I don't care," Wokun snapped, his scarred muzzle curling into a bestial snarl. "My interest is in why so many of these Penitatas appear to have a life of ease when they are supposed to be punished for their crimes. By the admission of your own office, based on the records I have looked at, it seems people consider the Penitatas to be a source of cheap labour. Scrubbing floors is not a punishment, captain. It's a job. A low job, perhaps; one people aspire to leave behind, but my father did not create this system to provide employment to the dregs of our society! You will fix this immediately. They are to be made to suffer, and such suffering should be part of their daily lives.
Kadan felt his paws twitch into fists of their own accord. "With respect, Lord-" he began, only for Wokun to snap at him once more.
"This is not a discussion. My father may have valued your input, but I don't. You are not here to share your thoughts on this, you are here to receive my will and enact it."
All three Enforcers remained silent at the outburst, but only a dullard would have failed to read the air of the meeting. Rightly or not, all three of them felt a line had been crossed. Taahl Tavik stepped forward to draw level with Wokun and smiled. Despite his unblemished features and handsome appearance, the gesture was clearly not one of comfort. "I think there is a great deal to discuss with regard to the Enforcer's Guild. It seems we are seeing no shortage of failures of late. First, you allow the former Lord Governor to be assassinated, by a Penitatas no less, and now we learn you had brought another assassin into your ranks. What do you have to say to justify this incompetence?"
The Guildmaster answered before either of her colleagues could rise to the challenge. "Lord Tavik, the Guild was not charged with the safety of the Lord Governor or his guests within the Palace."
"What is your primary duty if not to ensure the well-being of your Lord?" Taahl countered swiftly, as if he'd known the excuse was coming. "This is precisely the problem as I see it; the Guild has assumed for itself duties beyond any it was ever intended to hold. You are at best second-rate security, at worst mere thugs for hire. You put on these airs and graces, bestowing false titles like 'Enforcer-General' upon your senior members, forgetting yourselves and insulting those who truly have the right to hold such ranks! A reckoning is due."
"I don't see how antagonising my Enforcers benefits us at this time," Wokun shot a scowl at Taahl, and there was a moment where it seemed as though the two young nobles would come to blows. But the Noble Lord of Tavik relented, baring his throat for a moment before stepping back and calmly clasping his paws behind his back as though nothing had happened. Wokun furrowed his brow, an act that highlighted the irregular shape of his features due to the wounds Kadan had inflicted upon him, and seemed conflicted for a moment before forcing a mask of calm, authoritative focus upon himself once more. "The Penitatas are to face greater discipline. However, I wish to make a public display of authority and control; the people need to be assured that the days of chaos are behind them, and that I shall be a firm hand upon the tiller. Find me eight men who deserve to die and arrange a public execution by long-drop hanging. In this, the people shall know that I am unflinching in my pursuit of justice, but also benevolent in its application. Swift death for all who would undermine our good order. Is this understood?"
After confirming they understood the Lord Vaskal's instructions, the Enforcers were promptly dismissed. "The gall!" the Enforcer-General snapped the moment they were safely out of hearing of the trio of nobles, "the absolute fucking gall! Who the fuck does he think he is, talking to us like that, all but blaming us for the death of the old Lord Governor?"
"He thinks he is Taahl Tavik, Noble Lord of House Tavik, the second most powerful man on the planet," the Guildmaster answered in a tone that gave her muscle-bound companion pause. "I would like to hope this is just... growing pains. There are still so many unanswered questions, and the longer those questions linger the worse it looks for everyone. I think Lord Tavik just wants someone to blame for when his peers ask questions he can't answer."
"Well he's not shifting it onto us!" the Enforcer-General snarled. "Does he really want to go back to the old days when the City was run by gangs? I know keeping order's been difficult lately, what with the cultists and the mercenaries and whatever that android was, but it used to be you had gang-bosses running everything!"
"We still do, they're just better at hiding it," Kadan grumbled as the scarred, smirking face of Lady Sin came vividly to his mind. "With your permission, I'll get back to my office. My lads have got a lot of work to do if we're going to obey the Lord Governor's wishes."
The Guildmaster paused, her eyes narrowing as she studied Kadan's features. "You seem to be strangely at peace with this. I expected more of the same from you; protests and refusals, not this."
"I'm just tired. I haven't had a drink today," Kadan replied, shrugging off the concern.
His colleagues considered his answer for a short while, but the Guildmaster ultimately shrugged and said, "Alright. I'll be in touch before long. If you need anything, let me know." With that, she waved the Enforcer-General into a waiting ground-car and left Kadan to stew in his thoughts.
The Corrector-Captain glanced up at the artificial sky above him, watching as the slow, painstaking work continued. He watched a trio of labourers in glow-in-the-dark work vests ease the hexagonal display plates off of anti-grav flatbacks and, with the assistance of a mechanical arm assembly, twist them up and into place at the edge of the expanding sky. He wondered just how far the elaborate deception would go; would they ultimately seek to cover the entire dome, or would the honeycomb of screens become an artificial skylight above the Common? He let the question drift from his mind and found an idle tranquility in simply watching other men work. Lost in this moment, he failed to notice Ylari approach until she called out his name.
"I'm glad you're still here," the Lady Tavik said with a friendly smile. "I must apologise for my brother, and doubly so for my husband."
Kadan struggled for a moment to find an answer. He settled for, "it's fine," and returned her smile with one of his own. His eyes met hers, and in an instant his heart began to ache for her. It had been easy to bury the feeling when she was out of sight, hidden from him by whatever obligations a noblewoman had, but to be face to face with her alone brought it all back. Seeing her hold another man's child hardly helped.
Perhaps she saw the inner turmoil in the Enforcer. The young woman shook her head gently and answered, "no, it is not. The Guild's service is beyond reproach, and you especially have done so much for us. Taahl would do well to remember that."
"I'm sorry I wasn't able to save your father," Kadan answered. It felt like what he ought to say, but there was a flicker of confusion in Ylari's face that told him her praise had nothing to do with his hunt for Brunnel. Before he could press the matter, the Lady Tavik drew close and placed a gentle paw upon his breast, stilling any thought of speaking again.
"I will speak to my brother and make him see reason. I think it's the secrecy that bothers him; the only accurate accounts of how Penitatas are treated come from Udum's school. Justice must be seen to be done. If it is more widely known that Penitatas are punished, and what such a punishment entails, then I think the frequency will not matter."
Kadan carefully closed his calloused paws around Ylari's own, holding her soft skin against his breastplate. "Why do the Penitatas matter so much to you?" he asked.
The young Kyyreni woman smiled. "If we are to become a race of immortals we must learn how to forgive, and how to offer redemption to those who have wronged us."
Kadan paused, studying the noble's features carefully. As much as he adored her, and as much as his childish fixation distracted him at times, his Enforcer's instincts snapped to the subtle tells within her face. "What aren't you telling me?" he asked, more firmly this time.
Ylari pulled her paw away, and he let her go without challenge. She glanced about if checking no-one could hear what she had to say before answering, "It's simple; if we all live forever, statistically we'll all end up as a Penitatas at some time or another. Call it self-interest."
"Why are you lying to me?" Kadan challenged, his stomach knotting as the perfect fantasy of the woman he'd rutted melted before this emerging reality.
"I haven't lied," Ylari answered defensively. "Kadan, please! There are things I cannot discuss with you. I have secrets, things I'm not proud of. So do you, I think. How would you feel if I were to try and drag those secrets out into the light?"
The argument was cut short by a squeal from the cub. The silk bundle writhed and a short, stubby muzzle poked up towards Kadan. The babe wasn't yet a month old, and its grossly oversized head and still-sprouting fur made it highly unnerving to Kadan's inexperienced eye. Ylari shushed the cub as he wailed and teased his muzzle toward one of her breasts. After a false start, the cub was suckling quietly. "His name is Orn. I wanted him named for his father, but Taahl wanted his own father honoured."
"Might be for the best. 'Taahlat' is a piss-poor name," Kadan said in what he hoped was a friendly tone, but the look in Ylari's eyes was positively melancholic.
"I miss those precious few days we shared together. You have no idea what a burden this life can be. For a time, for a brief moment, I got to see what other lives I might have led had I been born to another mother; a life without the Game, a life where my family would look at my child as a blessing rather than another piece on the board..."
Kadan reached out to embrace her, compelled by an instinctive need to comfort the fragile young woman. But the Kyyreni noble stepped away sharply, averting her gaze. "You should hurry to your duties, Corrector-Captain. I'll go to my brother now."
With that, mother and cub retreated, leaving Kadan alone and confused at the gates of the Palace.

Shortly after coming back from an overly long lunch, and both with the unspoken agreement that little actual work was going to be done today, Kas and Skal paid a visit to Torn's office to find Haal holding court. The six-year-old Dawnsider stood in the middle of the room with his hands clasped behind his back, eyes scanning across the various screens and noticeboards set up to help track the duties of the Correctors. He was clearly in mid-flow upon their arrival. "Furthermore, it seems there is an unacceptable backlog in these 'site visits'. Who precisely is responsible for this task?"
"Umm, whoever's running the building at the time, I guess." Torn's answer made Haal visibly twitch.
"That is completely unacceptable! You shall assume responsibility for this. Now, given that this notice lists twenty-six staff who can conceivably perform these duties, I suggest you begin delegation at once. Assign all hands to this and clear the backlog."
Torn turned to the notice and studied it himself before answering weakly, "Well, one of those is Captain Kadan, and he's always busy with other things, and only seven of us are actually line men-"
"It's a home inspection, Corrector Torn," Haal sneered, "anyone able-bodied can do it, and I know from experience that admin always has an abundance of idle hands. Have some of the women make the visits."
"Torn, what's going on?" Kas asked, stepping over to the young man's desk while deliberately not acknowledging Haal's presence.
Torn smiled with relief at the sight of the Medicalos. "Oh, our newest recruit is trying to organise the place."
"Trying to take over by the sound of it," Kas replied, finally turning to Haal. "Did you forget you're starting at the bottom or something? You can't just barge in and take over!"
"Clearly, someone has to. Your Corrector-Captain, as mentioned, is preoccupied with other matters and I have over twenty years of command experience," Haal replied. He seemed to somehow find an extra inch of height as he announced his credentials.
Kas was having none of it. "You're not a captain now, nor a lieutenant, not even a sergeant. You're just a liner, like me and Torn, only we've both been here since day one! In fact, I'm pretty sure Torn has spent more time running the show than the captain has at this point!"
"The lack of proper command structure is all the more evidence that my expertise is required," Haal answered with a hint of a growl, but Kas seemed ready for it.
"You want command? Alright! Let me call Kadan and get Torn confirmed as second in command!"
"Don't be so ridiculous!" Haal snapped back, any semblance of calm boiling away in an instant. "This office has been a farce since its inception! If I am to be stationed here, I am going to see that change!"
"Where's Sam?" Skal asked, only to be ignored by the growing row. "Hey! Haal! You're supposed to be looking after Sam, so where is she?"
"Shut up, all of you!" Torn snapped, rising from his chair without warning. "You want command, Haal? Okay, here's command: all three of you can go somewhere else! Kas, thanks for the support, but I can't work with you screaming here. Haal, whatever you want to do should be taken with the captain. Skal, I don't know where Sam is, but she's not here... and since I know for a fact that you are meant to be minding her, Haal, you should probably go find her!"
"I know exactly where she is," Haal began to reply, but Torn cut him off sharply.
"Nope, don't care, I'd just like you to leave. Go find her, go keep an eye on her. Thanks for trying to help. Go now, please?"
The three of them left the office as ordered, with Kas staring daggers at Haal as he led the way. The younger Medicalos headed for the stairs, pausing only throw a petty jab at Kas. "Rest assured, I will be reporting your insolence to the Corrector-Captain when he returns!"
"Same to you!" Kas spat back, fuming as Haal descended the stairs to the ground floor. "Can I hit him? I really want to hit him! This is our thing, our organisation, and he's just stomping in and taking it over!"
Skal wasn't listening. He'd gone to the railing and was peering down to the ground floor, searching for Sam. As Kas fumed on unheeded, the Penny boy watched Haal vanish from sight, and he hurried along to the stairs to get a better look. There, at least, he finally caught sight of his girlfriend as she stepped out of the downstairs dining area with a Guild nurse close behind. Haal and the nurse talked, but Skal couldn't make out anything that was said between them. "She isn't meant to be down there," Kas said in the tone of a taddle-tale.
Once again, Kas was talking to himself. Skal's eyes were locked on Haal as he spoke and gestured. Then, in response to whatever the boy had said, Sam's face lit up and she flung her stumped arms around the Medicalos, hugging the boy so fiercely he almost lost his balance. Skal's paws gripped the ironwork of the handrail so tight it hurt. With a bark of anger, Skal thundered down to the ground floor and rushed over to the pair with teeth grit and fists balled. He locked a furious stare onto Haal and snapped, "What the Hell do you think you're doing?"
"Skal!" Sam cried, drawing the boy's attention, and his ire.
"And you, fawning over him! I spent weeks fretting over you, wondering if you were even still alive, and now you're throwing yourself at him!"
"Prospect Skal-" Haal began, but the Penny boy cut him off with a sharp, angry snap.
"I'm not talking to you right now!" He turned his attention back to Sam. "Just tell me one thing: if you hadn't showered this morning, would I smell his scent on you?"
Kas trotted up in the terrible silence Skal's question left behind. Sam's muzzle dropped against her chest, and that was all Skal needed. The boy let out a howl of rage and swung a blind haymaker that smacked into Haal's jaw and staggered the Medicalos. Driven by fury, Skal lunged at Haal with a second punch, only for his fist to be a caught by the former captain. Haal twisted to put Skal off balance and delivered a crippling kick to the testicles, creating a gap between them. As Skal stumbled back, Kas came to his aid and drove Haal hard against the wall, the pair snapping at each other and jabbing with knees and elbows. It was an ugly fist-fight, with Haal's superior training allowing him to hold off against one of the boys, only to take blows when the other came at him. The three whirled about, shouting out wordless cries of anger and frustration until a loud, terrible roar from the main doors froze all of them in terror.
"What the fuck is this?" Kadan's furious words echoed through the building as he gazed at the three rejuves, all scuffed and reddened from their melee. The Corrector-Captain stood fuming at the four children, all of whom were mute and timid before his rage. Above them, curious Correctors dared to peer down at the unfolding spectacle. "Well? Someone's got to have a bloody brilliant explanation as to why I have two of my men brawling?"
"Sir-" Haal began, to no avail.
"No, screw it! I don't care! I want all four of you up to the attic, now!" Kadan thrust an angry digit toward the stairs while the audience quickly withdrew so as not to be seen. A few feeble false-starts of excuses were quickly shut down, and one by one the four rejuves began the long walk of shame to the playroom; or punishment room, as it was soon to be. Haal led the way, with Kas close behind and Sam on his tail. Skal trailed back, with Kadan practically standing on his tail.
"Please let me explain?" Skal whimpered quietly as they walked.
With a frustrated sigh Kadan replied, "There's nothing you can say that'll make this any better, and a lot you can say to make it worse. Do yourself a favour and keep schtum. You and your girlfriend have enemies in high places now." With that ominous note, Skal did as he was told and kept all further protests to himself. At long last, the boy found himself in the playroom with the other three, their blond furred, wolfish muzzles all wearing the same timid expression, and all with heads tilted up slightly in a subconscious display of submission.
"Let's start with the simple stuff. Haal, why was Sam on the ground floor?" Kadan asked. His tone had softened, but as he spoke he gathered instruments of punishment; a heavy paddle and a sturdy child's cane among them.
Haal took a moment to straighten up before answering. "Corrector-Captain, I arranged a medical examination for the Penitatas, conducted-"
"That could have been done anywhere," Kadan interrupted, to Haal's obvious disapproval. "You've got here, you've got your bedroom, you've got two whole floors of rooms. Why did you feel the need to take her down there?"
"I suspect no answer I give will meet with your approval," Haal sighed, defeated.
"Well, the boy's learning fast. Who'd like to take the blame for the brawl?" Kadan asked, noting almost immediately Skal's uncomfortable shuffling. "Hmph. Clear to me you all threw punches, so all four of you are on the hook."
"B-but I didn't do anything!" Sam protested, which earned her a sharp look from Kadan.
"You're getting a hiding as well, girl," he answered firmly and turned back to his latest task. With implements chosen, Kadan had set out a small camera on top of a box stack. "In fact, you can start. Lie over this stool and raise your tail."
Said stool was dragged across the floor and set up in front of the camera. Sam inched over uneasily and let out a soft yelp as her clothes were removed; not just her pants, but everything. In bare fur, her worst fear was confirmed when Kadan made her lie over the stool with her rear in clear view of the camera. Kadan took a moment to settle her properly on the cushion he'd put there as padding, after which leather straps were used to secure her legs, followed by a collar-and-loop to hold her tail up and out of the way. His charge bound, Kadan placed his left paw in the small of her back to brace the girl and readied the paddle. It wasn't the largest of paddles, but it was heavy for its size, made to deliver a harsh, thudding deterrent to whatever unfortunate backside it encountered.
The first smack had no warning to it. Sam jolted forward as much as her restraints would allow, digging her crotch into the stool reflexively. Before she could relax a second smack landed under her tail, then a third, the paddle striking along the crack of her cheeks in an erratic flurry that came too fast for her to ready for. She didn't even have an opening to give a proper cry, making pained, panicked yelps before spluttering out an awkward set of sobs. "Sto-o-op!" the Kyyreni girl wailed as she threw her head back with a childish cry, but her desperate pleas fell only on the unheeding and the equally helpless.
When at last the paddling stopped, Sam fell limp over the stool and, able at last to catch her breath, let out a long, bawling cry. From the base of her tail to the slit of her girlhood, the line of her cheeks was a hot red crease, the stinging blush clear to see through her young fur. "That was the warmup," Kadan told her, prompting the girl to sob harder as the cane was swished once in the air to warn what came next.
The first swat was low, far too low for the girl's liking, and she jumped and howled with renewed energy. Kadan pressed her down all the harder, but gave her a moment to settle before swinging again, cracking the cane across both cheeks just above where the first line had been formed. The three boys all flinched in unison at the terrible sound, fearing their own behinds would soon share the fate. With more care and thought than he had with the paddle, Kadan worked the cane upward toward the base of her tail, covering the bottom two-thirds of the girl's rear in regular stripes as she tried to kick and wriggle away. Rather than finish the job, the caning changed direction and doubled up his work. Sam shrieked herself hoarse at the cruel kiss over her doubly-pained rear, giving up any thought of pleading and resorting to a tired, defeating sobbing, for she hadn't the strength to squirm anymore.
The cane retreated at last. Sam was helped to her feet and Kadan took a moment to wipe her face, but offered her no words of comfort. Instead, he took her firmly by the shoulder and walked her toward the corner of the room, and what she saw there prompted a fresh set of struggles. A punishment stool awaited, its seat covered in blunt, triangular teeth that would make sitting uncomfortable at the best of times, but on a punished rear it was Hell. "N-no! Pl-l-ease not-t the st-t-ool!" she wailed, having long ago damned the memory of its inventor, as had countless thousands of Penitatas before her. To no-one's surprise, the pleading was futile, and soon she was strapped down on the stool with a tight strap across her waist to pull her full weight onto the blunt stubs, and two more to hold her legs up and deny her any hope of shifting weight.
"You'll sit there until I'm finished with Skal," Kadan told her quietly before he turned his attention to Skal. Like Sam before him, the boy was made to bare all, and soon his blond-furred rear was prepared and on display for the camera.
As he'd feared watching Sam's ordeal, the punishment was a lot harsher than any 'unearned' one. All the boy could do was grip the legs of the stool - a mercy Sam's injuries had denied her - and cry shamelessly as he received a much more thorough paddling than his girlfriend. Where Sam had merely earned a humiliating line of paddle-strokes, Kadan was intend on warming all of Skal's rear; after working along the gap between his cheeks, the paddle's rapid smacks spiraled along the underside of his left cheek, up near his thigh and back around, swirling inwards to provide a near-even coat of discomfort before a similar, if less careful procedure turned his right cheek equally red.
Then came the cane, and Skal was certain the cracking against his rear was faster and harder than what Sam had earned. Not that it was easy for him to hold such a thought beyond the first stroke; tears and pleading took over, a frantic babble of incoherent, desperate cries for mercy that had been a part of the Penny way of life since long before it came to Taviskaad. The Penny was spanked, the Penny begged for the spanking to end, the Penny was ignored. When at last his entire backside had been double-lined, Skal felt a brief flicker of relief; a sensation that died instantly when he remembered what came next.
"Easy now," Kadan whispered as he helped the Penny boy up. Skal was allowed a moment to rub at his rear while his muzzle was cleaned up.
"C-can I-I s-s-sit on a n-normal st-ool inst'd?" the boy whimpered, hoping against hope that asking for a lesser punishment, rather than none at all, might somehow make his fate easier. He was walked to Sam regardless and forced to stand as the girl was freed, then led aside to make room. All too soon, the stinging studs were poking hard into Skal's tender rump, and once the boy was firmly in place and crying, Kadan shut off the camera.
"Kas, would you like to tell me who started your little fight?" Kadan asked without turning to face the boy.
Kas wrung his paws nervously. "Skal did. I think... I think he was jealous, that Haal and Sam had been 'playing' last night," the boy reported honestly.
With a raised eyebrow, Kadan finally turned to look upon Haal. He studied the boy's expression carefully, then briefly looked to Sam and back. "Is this true, Haal?"
Haal hung his head in guilt. "We did engage in consensual oral sex, sir." The quiet that followed lasted far too long for the Medicalos' liking.
"Corrector Haal, stickler for rules and regulations, didn't think there was anything wrong with performing a sexual act on someone in his care?" Kadan asked before returning to the punishment stool. "Do I need to explain to ether of you why you're both getting your arses tanned?"
Both Medicalos were silent, at least until their turn upon the stool. After Kas' backside had been tenderised, Skal was allowed off his studded seat and the three spanked rejuves were able to stand together and watch as Haal shared their torment. It was an eye-opening experience for all of them; for all that he sought to culture an air of stoic discipline, Haal squirmed worse than any of them.
With all four rejuves lined up and miserable, Kadan inspected his Penny parade and told them curtly, "you four clearly have a lot to talk about. I'll give you some time, and if needs be we can do this all over again." With his threat issued, the captain collected his camera and headed downstairs, leaving the four nude Kyyreni in a hot, charged silence.
"Why'd he have to film it?" Sam whined quietly, offering something for her companions to focus on besides their stewing conflicts. Skal reached a paw towards the girl's shoulder, only to hesitate. His limb hung in the air, trembling, as the boy's guts twisted at whether Sam would find comfort in his touch, or worse, flinch away.
"Stop hovering and comfort her!" Haal's bark caused his companions to turn in surprise. Sam immediately looked to Skal, who after a moment's pause wrapped his arms around her.
"I'm sorry, Sam. I should never... I just felt so jealous, like... I don't know what I was thinking. Forgive me?" Skal stumbled through his explanation.
The girl glanced away, but kept her body close to his. "It hurt, you know? Being accused like that. But you were right, I did betray you. I don't even know why I did it." Sam gave a sniffle and a whimper, dropping her head against Skal as guilty tears soaked into his fur.
"Was your plan to control me?" Haal asked softly, "Perhaps you thought I would be easier on you, overlook transgressions in return for your favours?"
"No, it's not that!" Sam protested, her words muffled by Skal's chest.
The Penny boy stroked the Dawnsider girl's head and whispered, "I think that's what it was. When we first got together I... I loved controlling you. I loved it because that was the only thing I could control. When I felt helpless, when I had no say in how I lived, the only thing that was truly mine to decide was what we did together. I got to decide when and how I gave myself to you, when and how I took what you offered." He snuggled against Sam and blinked the wetness from his eyes, squeezing the Penny girl tight as if he never intended to let go.
Their mute embrace was broken, perhaps spoiled, by a nervous chuckle from Kas. "More of your Penny philosophy? You should write this crap in a book already, get rich off it." It wasn't really funny, but it offered an excuse for laughter that was sorely needed, and both Sam and Skal took it with more enthusiasm than it deserved.
"Haal, I'm sorry I hit you. I hope you won't hold a grudge?" Skal offered as he and Sam finally broke their embrace.
Haal rubbed at his sore rear and muttered, "I believe the Corrector-Captain has made a compelling argument against grudge-holding. I... I will respect your relationship from here on out."
"So can we get dressed now?" Kas asked with another nervous chuckle.
Skal took a moment to plant a soft kiss on Sam's forehead. "I guess I'll go ask. Wait here a minute." With that, the boy tip-toed downstairs and peered about, finding the landing empty. On the edge of hearing, the sounds of work from below whispered up to him, but he ignored the sound as he crept along, ears twitching for any evidence of Kadan. He found it quickly; the captain emerged from a door at the opposite end of the landing, turned toward Skal and froze.
"What are you doing down here?" he snapped at the boy.
Skal flinched. He opened his maw to make an excuse, only to reconsider. Taking a page from Haal's book, Skal straightened himself up and walked slowly, but deliberately towards Kadan. When he drew close he stopped and, with a tremble in his voice, answered the question. "I wanted to know if we were allowed to get dressed again. Well, we all wanted to know. And-" he paused, unsure of what he was about to say, "-I, we, wanted to know why you filmed us."
"It was for the Lord Governor," Kadan answered without hesitation. His tone was one of bitter compliance. "Little shit's convinced Penitatas don't get punished, so he wants to see punishments. Maybe seeing the pair of you hurt and bawling will be enough to show we're not running a fucking daycare."
"So that's what you meant before about only making it worse?" Skal probed.
The captain gave a short nod. "Right. You were getting thrashed no matter what. At least this way you actually did something to earn it. I want you to keep that to yourself though, understood?"
"Yes... yes dad," Skal replied after a shy pause. His reaction seemed only to make Kadan uncomfortable.
"Don't-" he began, hesitantly, "don't try and use that to wriggle out of trouble, got it?" the captain raise a paw as if to punctuate a point he was about to make, but nothing else came forth but an uncertain silence. He shrugged and added, "yeah, you four can get dressed. Go on, back up there. Just don't cause trouble and, maybe, you and Sam can try and act your age a little more for the next few days? You understand?"
"Yessir," Skal confirmed.
"Alright." the word hung in the air, alone and unsure of its own meaning. Kadan followed it up with a vague wave, "Go on, Skal. Go play or whatever. Wait!"
Skal halted, having barely gone two steps back towards the attic. He turned as Kadan stepped over and knelt down to address him face to face. "Is this father thing, is it something you're trying to keep private?"
"It's what I want," Skal answered, with a needy tone to his voice.
Seemingly pained by the confession, Kadan bared his teeth as he tried to formulate something akin to an answer. "Shit, I am not made for this... alright, fuck it." The captain scooped Skal up into his arms, which caused a yelp of discomfort to escape the boy's lips as his rear took his weight. Kadan carried the lightly-squirming boy back upstairs to his colleagues, who all fell deathly silent at Kadan's return. He delivered Skal back onto his own footpaws and blurted out, "you four, get dressed! I figure you'll all want something to eat, so I'll get that sorted. Skal..."
Once more, Kadan knelt and brought his face close to Skal's. His voice was low, but not inaudible to the others. "I'm sorry I had to be so hard on you, son." Then he gave Skal a brief hug, over almost as soon as he made contact, and near-fled from the room.
"Did he call you 'son' just now?" Kas asked as Skal turned bashfully towards his peers.
"We're working on it," he answered with a slight smile.