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Change never came easy. For Skal, that change was accepting punishment. For Kadan, that chance was keeping his temper in check.

The new routine was simple: each morning, typically before breakfast, Skal was disciplined. The punishment came in the form of a spanking, caning or other 'traditional' methods, and he was expected to co-operate throughout. If he took his licks as he was supposed to that would be the end of it, providing he kept out of trouble for the rest of the day. To Skal's credit, he kept up his side of the bargain. By the fifth day of the new routine, Kadan had emerged late from his room to find Skal stood anxiously in the living room, bared for spanking with a paddle clutched tightly in his hands. Although he'd chastised the boy for choosing the 'softest' punishment, he'd also gone easy on the paddling.

It was also agreed by both warden and charge that Skal being alone in the home all day was not ideal. From the third day onwards, Skal went with Kadan to the Hall of Corrections, where he would stay while his master worked. If Kadan's duties were deemed safe, Skal would go with him instead. He was usually left in Kas' care when he stayed in the Hall, and while the two were not friends they at least tolerated each other.

With the prospect of visiting Sam on the horizon, Skal was trying extra hard to behave. He'd seen a lot of her while healing, but there had been no hope of anything physical. Being unable to do anything but talk and play simple games with her had made Skal realise just how much he'd come to expect their intimacy, and with a pang of guilt he questioned how to explain his feelings to her. He feared losing her friendship, but also feared losing their 'play' altogether. The boy cursed inwardly; he didn't remember childhood crushes being this hard the first time.

Meanwhile, Kas was working in a manner that stretched the definition to breaking point. He was clearly miserable, huffing and pouting his way through the documents on his tablet. He jumped on every distraction possible, from chatting eagerly to anyone came near the desk to flicking his stylus across the room just to retrieve it.

"Is it hard being a Medicalos?" Skal asked, eager to escape his own boredom and guessing Kas wouldn't mind the distraction.

"What? No. Maybe..." Kas sighed and pushed away the tablet, "I don't want to be doing this. I want to be back on the streets doing something that matters, but it'll be years before I can do that again. Why do you care anyway?"

"Kadan has been learning about how Penitatas are treated," Skal answered. "He thinks that a lot of people aren't handling us right. Maybe it's the same for Medicalos?"

Kas reflected on Skal's question for a while. He seemed to reach a decision and hopped out of his chair, "Come on, let's get out of here!"

Skal gave him a puzzled look, "but I have to stay here!"

"No, the Captain said you had to stay with me. That means if I leave, so do you! So, are you coming willingly, or do I have to put your leash on?"

With an anxious nod, Skal signalled his compliance. He followed Kas out of the building via the motor pool, unchallenged by anyone present, and together they headed for the transport system. It was busy when they arrived, but Kas led the way to a shuttered off docking port. A press of his hand against the scanner caused the shutter to rattle open, and he beamed at Skal to show off the influence he possessed. Skal, having seen Kadan do the very same thing several times, was unmoved.

"I grew up here," Kas said with a wave towards the vehicle console. 'Here' referred to a terminal in North Tenement. "It's a lot nicer these days, more up-market. I lived in a charity shelter for about three years, up until the Guild took me in. Mostly lived rough before then. You know what that's like."

Skal shook his head, "Actually, no. I never lived rough. My mum took care of me until I was eight, and when she died I went to my dad."

"Was he a ganger too?" Kas asked, seemingly enjoying the sight of the lighting strips flashing by outside.

"Yeah, he was. Got knifed in the waste pipes when I was twelve."

Kas' ears twitched at the confession, "must have sucked," he mumbled quietly without looking round.

They finally escaped their awkward prison and stepped into the crisp, filtered air of North Tenement. It was a place of transitions, with clean, stylish new builds jutting up to Founding slum blocks. Well dressed entrepreneurs and Guilders strolled past homeless beggars without so much as a downward glance. Kas remarked proudly at every renovation or well-to-do passerby, but the contrast simply made Skal uncomfortable.

Their roaming took them through a row of shops, the front of which were crammed with food vendors, street performers and grey robed preachers. Children caused mischief for the vendors, while a Voluntaras on the corner called for patrons to inspect fine fabrics of a clothing store. The boys inspected each seller in turn, considering the offerings in the hope of finding something fun to do, but only the food vendors caught their eye. Kas practically dragged Skal to the upo stall, drooling at the scent of the sour meat filling of the blue pastry balls.

"Hey!" Kas called out as he waved for the woman's attention, "we'll have two servings!"

The food vendor narrowed her eyes at Skal, "Those markings... You're a Penny?" with a grunt she made a show of closing the lid on her food cart.

"What? You can't refuse us!" Kas protested, but it was clear he wasn't going to win the argument.

"I don't serve your kind! Go! Get gone!" she snapped back whilst swatting at them, too far away to hit but with enough conviction to make the point.

With Kas fuming and Skal sulking, the rejuves moved on. They settled on fritters that smelled of lime and sugar, which were satisfying but not what Kas wanted. Their strolling brought them to a public park, a fenced off area of yellow grass and autumnal trees from Urokon. Hidden speakers filled the air with birdsong, while air control systems produced a warm summer breeze. The sky above was a fiery sunrise, projected out over the park via a synthetic skyline built into the wall of the dome. It was always sunrise, mimicking the perpetual dawn that gave the Kyyreni Dawnsiders their name.

They entered via a small gate close to a tight growth of trees and bushes. Three men wearing red scarves about their person watched their approach, one twirling a silver vial between his fingers while the other made a bad effort of hiding the knife in his pocket. Kas nodded to them in greeting and opened his waistcoat to flash the Enforcer Guild emblem, and to Skal's surprise the three men relaxed, "little small for an E, ain't ya'?" one asked with a flick of the head.

Kas flashed his Ms in reply, "got rejuved during the uprising. How bad was it here?"

"Real bad, but we got things back in order. Would've been nice to have more of your show their hides."

"What, and make you look bad?" Kas spat back playfully. He seemed to notice the vial for the first time and added, "just watch what you peddle here, yeah? There's been too many bodies turning up dead from poison peddlers. Keep it clean so we're not called in here."

The gangers looked at one another and answered with vague gestures that suggested they might change what they peddled, but it certainly wasn't because Kas had told them to. With a final nod of acknowledgement the boys were allowed to go on their way, with Skal left befuddled by the exchange.

"They're part of the 44-Reds," Kas explained as they walked through the shadowed growths, "They pretty much took over a third of the district, but they're not stupid like most gangs. They keep their noses clean, they keep the violence off the street, and they respect us. In fact, they pretty much police this area so we don't have to. Our lives would be a lot easier if more gangs were like them."

Skal felt his stomach knot at the revelation, "so you let these guys peddle in the open, but you fucked up my crew? How is that even close to fair?"

Kas turned towards Skal and bared his teeth, "the only reason your mob lasted as long as it did was because you weren't worth our time! We knew about what you did, but we were busy dealing with real gangs who had some ambition beyond helping the homeless OD! Hell, we practically made the 67 Crew by culling the competition! But then you had to get ideas above your station and you turned on us!"

"We never turned on you! It was-" Skal caught himself, but what little he let slip was already too much. Kas' angered glare locked onto him.

"Finish that thought," the Medicalos snarled with as much vitriol as a six year old could manage.

Skal's whole body trembled, not from fear of Kas, or even what Kadan might do to him, but at the idea of betraying the Crew. It was gone now, broken apart with most of its members dead or Penitatas like him. Those who survived had almost certainly betrayed them, having left just before the wrathful Enforcers tore them to ribbons, yet even knowing this he felt compelled to protect them; the Crew was family, and you couldn't turn on family. His mouth suddenly dry, Skal forced out a weak excuse, "-it was a mistake. Things got out of hand."

Kas hissed out his disdain for the answer and turned away, "a damn mistake. Sure it was." He carried on in bitter silence, glancing around a few times at half-heard sounds until they emerged onto a wide, clear portion of the park where adults and children alike engaged in a variety of simple outdoor pleasures. Ball games were the past-time of choice, but a few thrown discs, drones or other airborne toys competed for a patch of empty space above the warm grass. Nearby, a couple had stripped to the waist and lay together, listening to music as they soaked up the warmth of the false sun. Kas led Skal towards one of the smaller groups comprised of adolescents ranging from ten to twelve. They were playing a game of hoops, and judging by the way objects passed between them they had a minor wager going on. Beyond them was a pop-up stall selling toys, bottled drinks and bags of crunchy snacks to those who had come to the park ill prepared.

"Let's get a ball or something," Kas said, his tone making it clear he was still somewhat cross with Skal over their earlier argument. Skal nodded in agreement but stood well back while Kas shopped, fearing his presence might cause another vendor to turn on them. Finally armed with a small red ball, the two soon forgot any prior arguments as they devoted themselves entirely to a running, ruleless game of kick-about. It soon became clear that Kas was highly competitive and more than willing to put his extra year of age to good use, employing tackles, shoves or grapples whenever he could to retake the ball. It wasn't long before Skal abandoned his inhibitions and responded in kind, turning the game into more of a running fight than a sporting exercise. Brief as the aggression was, it served as a release of sorts and the two broke apart, momentarily forgetting the game as they stared each other down.

"Maybe we need to cool off a little?" Kas suggested, his body language suggesting he'd much rather fight than calm down. Despite that he retrieved the ball and carried it. With a brief wave and flick of the head, he steered Skal towards the far end of the park. Their play had carried them most of the way across the green space, and now the Medicalos seemed to want to rejoin the path and follow it in the opposite direction towards the north entrance.

"Do you have a problem with me?" Skal asked as they walked, coming across as more aggressive than he intended.

Kas gave a half shrug, "I have a problem with your loyalties. You should be loyal to the Captain, and that means you shouldn't be protecting people who have a hiding due. You know, like the guys who murdered our men?"

Skal's muzzle dropped as he muttered, "would you be loyal to someone who keeps beating you?"

"Depends why he beat me," Kas answered, "I took a lot of licks growing up in the Guild, but they hurt me to make me stronger. It's not like gangers are here blowing hugs and kisses our way."

They walked on a little further, and Skal's ears twitched at the soft whisper of bare footpaws on gravel behind. A twitch of Kas' ears suggested he'd heard it too, and both boys glanced behind them. A lone man came up the path behind them, head down and talking with a finger pressed into his ear. Thermal sense lit up his face even from a distance, suggesting a sub-dermal implant of some kind. Further behind was a woman jogging, though still too far to hear and her body heat was all but lost in the background of the park. Both boys upped their pace a little and stepped back onto the amber grass, steering themselves back towards the more populated part of the park. Two sets of perked ears listened intently to the sound of a walker go by them, followed by the jogger. They halted their detour and turned back to the path, each meeting the other's eye as they did.

"Didn't see any markings on the guy," Kas said quietly, "probably just a random guest."

Skal half nodded, "yeah, probably, but a tailer might talk about his mark to others and play it off as a harmless call."

They both idled in the grass together, watching the path. Both the caller and the jogger were well clear, the former having left the park and the latter now so far ahead she wasn't worth considering. The two boys both smiled at each other, chuckling at their overcautious behaviour and finding a brief camaraderie in it. "Okay, it's probably time we left. The Captain's going to be pissed enough as it is, so let's not be AWOL when he gets back." The Medicalos punctuated his instruction by digging Skal in the arm on the way past, prompting a fleeting fistfight before jogging back together.

As they passed between the bushes close to the gate they came upon the group of boys again, talking loudly and egging each other on over something. It turned out to be assault. The first punch slammed into Skal's gut as he passed, knocking the wind out of him before he could cry out. Kas turned and was sent reeling by a suckerpunch, which he rode as best he could before recovering and reaching for a knife at his belt, a knife that wasn't there. The brief confusion that caused was all his attacker needed, and against a boy twice his age all Kas could do was shield his head and pray for it to be over swiftly.

"Run! Go!" a third boy cried and the group scattered, driven away by two shouting men in the colours of the 44-Reds.

Strong hands helped Kas to his feet. The boy's nose was bloodied the base of his tail throbbed where someone had pulled on it, but he'd gotten away mostly intact. Skal was a different story, bleeding from several shallow cuts to his face and arms.

"Come on, pup," the rescuer said as he lifted Skal out of the gravel. Skal looked at him and yelped in terror, giving a brief but futile struggle against the strong man's grip, "woah! Easy! I'm on your side!"

Skal calmed a little, but the look of terror on his face was unmistakable. The ganger gave him a playful tap on the muzzle and said, "why don't I get you two home? Where you boys from?"

"Hall of Corrections," Kas sniffled, "we came in on the mag."

The ganger nodded, "alright, mag it is. Can you both walk?"

The two boys walked ahead of their saviour, both quiet and aching. The ganger was tall, broad and battle scarred, and he purred out his words like a cat toying with its food. "So you're a Penny, eh? What's your name little Penny?"

"Ban," Skal stammered, "my name is Ban."

"And how'd you come to be roaming around with a Penny?" he asked Kas, who was giving Skal a sidelong stare.

"Oh, he's mine. Got him before I was a Medi. He's just a Vices junkie who swung at the wrong guy." Kas answered carefully, studying Skal as he spoke.

The ganger chuckled, "should have found someone to watch your back, little Ban. Ah, here we are..."

The transport hub was a welcome sight for the boys, but more so were the two security guards at the main door. Sensing Skal's anxiety, Kas got them both safely into the shadow of the guards and watched the ganger leave. The security men barely acknowledged them, but they loitered until they were certain nobody else was following before rushing for a magcar.

"So, 'Ban', do you want to tell me what happened there?" Kas asked once settled safely in the car.

"I knew him," Skal replied anxiously, "he was part of the Crew, but he disappeared right before you hit us."

"So he switched gangs? Doesn't that break your code or whatever?"

Skal nodded, wringing his hands as he struggled with himself over how much else to say, "there's only two ways you can ever leave a gang alive; either you become strong enough to break away and form your own, or the old gang dies off. Anyone who betrays their gang would be marked for the rest of their lives."

Kas leaned forward in his seat, studying the squirming Penitatas and trying to pin down where the boy's fear came from. "So you know he left before your gang was wiped out, and if you squeal his reputation is shot?"

"That's not it," Skal all but whimpered in reply, "he always boasted about how many men he killed, and I remember him saying that any gang in The City would kill to have him. Then..."

The boy clammed up, staring at the floor and squeezing his hands tight between his thighs. Weak, frightened tears left damp streaks across his muzzle as he huffed and whimpered, fighting hard to keep his emotions in check. Kas slipped to his side and patted him on the shoulder, "Skal listen. If you know something, or even suspect something, I need to hear it. Give me something I can use and you'll never have to be afraid of him again."

Skal wiped his nose on his sleeve and whispered, "If I talk, then I'm a traitor."

"Then don't talk," Kas answered, "just nod or shake your head. Did you ever see him kill anyone? No? Did you hear him plan to kill someone? Yes? Who?"

Skal but his lip hard enough to draw a bead of blood, "He wanted some of the gang to prove themselves."

Kas' eyes widened, "Blood and Iron! Skal, is he the one who killed our men?"

Skal let out a loud, gulping sob that was all the answer Kas needed. The Medicalos gripped Skal tightly by the shoulders and stared into his eyes, "Listen to me! When we get back to the Hall you need to tell the Captain everything!"

"I can't!" Skal sobbed, so wracked with guilt he was physically shaking.

"Yes you can! Look, I get you're scared of them, but we'll protect you!"

"K-Kadan w-w-will kill me!" the boy blubbed, slumping forward and bawling hard into the deck of the car.

"He's pissed at you because he blames you for those deaths!" Kas countered, "You hand him the real killer and he'll be over the fucking moon with joy! Please, Skal, trust me. Trust him."

The walk back to the precinct gave Skal plenty of time to fret. Kadan was there as he'd feared and just as furious as expected, but as soon as the boys entered Kas stepped between the two of them, talking urgently about what had happened. Kadan listened, his rage checked but still present, until at last he said simply, "tell me everything." Skal obeyed, his internal barriers coming away. He confessed everything he knew and everything he suspected, to which Kadan responded with further questions. He wanted to hear everything multiple times, often demanding precise details on a facet, or to be told the events in a different sequence. As Skal spoke, Kadan's demeanor changed from anger to grim resolve. By the end, it was clear he wasn't truly listening to Skal anymore; while the boy spoke, Kadan's lips would move, revealing hints at his thought processes. In the end he simply stormed away, bellowing for team leaders and specialists to attend him. Skal, briefly forgotten, was quietly led to the offices by Kas, who gave the Penny a warm, confident smile. He'd been right, it seemed - things had worked out.

With no other clear purpose, Kas returned to his paperwork and Skal resumed doing nothing. The adrenaline faded from his system, and before long excitement and fear had both given way to boredom. To keep him engaged, Kas set a communicator to broadcast an active channel, and for a while they listened as routine duties slowly gave way to whatever Kadan had planned. That, however, would come much later; long before then, the two rejuves would become hungry and tired. The Hall of Corrections was hardly an ideal place for children of any sorts, but it was easy enough to find food, and they found space for play so long as it was kept at a reasonable volume. Without ever realising it the afternoon turned to evening, and it was apparent that nobody was coming back for Skal. "Come with me," Kas offered as the shift-change began, "I'll leave a note for him in case he wants to find you."

"I'm not sure following you around is a good idea," Skal answered back, though he had to stifle a yawn to do so.

"This time we're going somewhere we're supposed to be," Kas chuckled, "Come on, there's a bed waiting."

With no real will to argue, Skal followed the Medicalos to the motor pool and they rode with three other Enforcers out into the evening streets. Their route took them down a steep road into a sub-district dug even deeper than the magway and consisting mostly of roads and service tunnels. Yet somewhere under one of the middle-ring districts there was a wide excavation, deep enough for a three story building and wide enough for a housing block. The gated area bore the crests of the Enforcer Guild proudly on its tall concrete walls and reinforced metal gates. The grounds beyond were drab and miserable, so much so that Skal first assumed it was a prison. Yet mixed in with the Guild's transports and the utilitarian concrete structures he saw a tiny patch of amber grass and little clues children had been there. Banners or clothing hung in or out of various windows, and as they disembarked the sounds of music and raucous laughter floated from the ground floor.

"Welcome to the Billet," Kas announced proudly. Instead of entering via the front door, Skal was led around the side of the building to a smaller door, one clearly not intended to be opened from the outside. Helpfully, a large bucket of sand kept it held wide open. The boys walked in unnoticed and ascended to the building's middle floor. "Latrines are here. This is a man's wing so you won't have to worry about picking the wrong door. There's a little kitchen here, but it's 'cook your own food'. Are you hungry?"

Skal shook his head, "no, just a little tired."

Kas nodded, "okay. Through here then," he pushed a door open to reveal a long hall filled with beds. Each mattress was raised a few inches off the floor by a steel frame, barely enough to allow for storage beneath. It seemed whatever possessions the occupants had were mostly slung into webbed hammocks above each bed, suspended via poles that also anchored the bottom of the bed frame. Kas picked one seemingly at random and dropped onto his stomach to grope about beneath. He resurfaced with a simple lock box opened with a four digit code that turned out to be full of pill packets.

"They're to help me sleep," Kas explained as he popped two into his mouth and washed them down with a gulp from a water bottle kept in a bedside drawer. "You want some? It can be a little noisy in here."

"Sure," Skal answered with an awkward smile. He downed the pills dry. "So which bed is mine?"

"Mine," Kas replied, patting the mattress before climbing up onto it. With some difficulty he wrestled two old pillows out of the webbing and tossed them at the Penitatas, "the bed should be big enough for both of us. We don't take up that much room."

Skal nodded, clutching the pillows while Kas rearranged his own so they could lie side by side. With only mild reluctance the boy undressed and crawled into bed beside the Medicalos, who to Skal's surprise wrapped an arm around him, "you did right by us, coming clean." the boy said, followed by a long yawn. Skal merely nodded in reply and let the drugs carry him into a deep, restful sleep.

---

---

Skal woke the next morning feeling groggy. Kas was gone, but no-one seemed to be concerned with waking him and so he snuggled back into the bedding, hugging a pillow to his chest and trying to doze off again. In a blink half an hour had passed and Skal found himself shaken awake by Kas.

"Come on, wake up. I've got fresh clothes for you." the offered attire was a child's version of the Guild fatigues in a deep blue in place of the more typical black or dark grey. Kas had even found a thin pair of fingerless gloves that hid Skal's Penitatas markings.

Once dressed, Skal followed Kas into a dining hall towards the centre of the building. It was large but mostly empty, the main service having finished not long ago judging by the number of plates stacked on the worktops by the kitchen door. Even so, Kas was able to wave down a woman in a crimson uniform and breakfast was provided; a meat and egg paste bulked out with crunchy vegetables and surprisingly flavourful bread, washed down with watery beer.

"Do you know what happened with the Reds?" Skal asked between mouthfuls.

"They brought in a half dozen or so for questioning, or so I heard. Captain should be ready for you in an hour or so. Plenty of time to kill before then."

To wait for the Captain, Kas led Skal to a recreation area in a side building. Most of the building was dedicated to a large sports area, complete with climbing ropes hung from the high ceiling, a fold-out climbing net and premarked boundary lines for various sports painted on the floor. Half of the room was cordoned off with rope so four boys in their early teens could exercise without being disturbed while a veteran Enforcer watched and barked the odd instruction. The rooms above the exercise space housed fitness equipment, and from the entrance Skal could make out a few Kyyreni working with various exercise machines.

Beyond the main exercise space lay satellite rooms for more specialist sessions. Kas picked the wall ball court, drawn by the sound of young voices calling plays and the steady thumps of a game in play. Skal stood in awkward silence as Kas casually greeted the two girls inside and arranged their game into a doubles match. The girls were around nine years old, both wearing blue shorts the same shade as Skal's, with padded gloves and footwraps. Kas removed his shirt and told Skal to do the same before providing a curved racket and explaining the game.

It was a tricky sport, requiring precise hand-eye coordination and a great deal of physical effort for a boy of Skal's age to lob the ball high enough to make a valid shot. The girls lobbed fast, erratic balls that bounced hard off the wall and ceiling before coming down at speed, causing both rejuves to miss the catch more often than not. Still, Skal enjoyed the game, mostly for the unexpected friendliness of the girls, who passed brief, curious questions his way between points. He kept the answers truthful but vague, admitting to being Kadan's slave without using the word 'Penitatas'. To his surprise, both girls seemed to be impressed, even admiring of his station. "You'll be going far," the eldest said after a rare fumble of Kas' play. "I hear Captain Kadan was hand picked by his officer too. Wouldn't be surprised if you have section command by your late teens!"

"I don't know about that," Skal answered shyly, although he enjoyed the admiring look she gave him: impressed, with just a hint of envy.

The final score was completely one-sided, but Skal didn't mind. The girls wished him well and left to do whatever it was aspiring Guild members did, and the Penny boy found himself missing their company almost immediately. It had been nice to be held in esteem by someone, even if it was because they had no idea what the truth of his relationship with Kadan was. With those thoughts in mind, he turned his attention back to Kas and asked, "how come you're looking after me? I mean, I'm not complaining, I just wondered. You never seemed to like me all that much."

"Because you chose a side," Kas answered with a faint smile.

They found Kadan as they returned to the main building. The captain appeared tired, and Skal felt his stomach knot as Kadan stared down his muzzle at the boy, noting the clothes he wore. "Well, you seem to be fitting in," he grunted before turning his attention to Kas, who brought his fists to his collar in salute.

"You two have done us quite the favour," Kadan said, his tone grim. "You helped reveal the rot we'd allowed to set in. Captain Ardyr is tearing the Reds apart, and I wouldn't be surprised if he finds they've been abusing our trust. I don't know if we'll find all the killers from the 67s, but we have one. That's a start. But there's something else we need to discuss."

Kas' ears flattened. The boy bared his throat nervously, "I know I shouldn't have left, but-"

"But nothing," Kadan growled, "you abandoned your post."

"It wasn't anything important," Kas protested, causing Kadan to bare his teeth.

"Not important? So we don't need to know how many calls we receive, or how many supplies we consume?" he took a step towards the Medicalos, who shrunk back from him, "you disappeared. If you had spoken to me or Bast, we'd likely have let you go, but you didn't. You didn't even leave us a message. Tell me Kas, what do you call someone who leaves their post without authorisation?"

"Deserter," Kas whimpered.

Kadan nodded sternly as he turned his eye to Skal, "and you know very well that you had to stay put. Since you've decided to dress like one of us, you can share his punishment."

Confused and frightened by the Captain's words, Skal was taken by the forearm and marched through the building to a courtyard beyond and across to a squat structure that looked like a dungeon, covered as it was with narrow, barred windows and with a portcullis over the heavy steel entrance. The courtyard outside had a variety of poles and pillars that were instantly recognisable to anyone familiar with the corporal punishment system of Taviksaad. Once inside, Kas and Skal were both left in a small doctor's office under the supervision of the staff physician, who wore a crimson medical uniform and a traditional skull hood. "Wait here," Kadan told the boys, his voice tinged with regret at what was to come. He departed swiftly.

"What's going to happen to us?" Skal whispered to Kas, who had turned shockingly pale during the short march.

"Better you don't know," the Medicalos whimpered in reply.

The wait was mercifully short. Kadan returned with a long, heavy whip, a black hood and a block of grey wadding. "Skal, remove your shirt," he instructed.

Skal's heart began to hammer at the sight of the whip. His shaking fingers fumbled the buttons of his shirt open and the garment was placed on the nearest bed. Kadan then offered him the wadding to bite down on, and after doing so the hood was forced over his muzzle and stretched tight down to the neck, where it was pulled tight. It left him unable to see or speak, and the slits for his nose were barely enough to let him breathe.

Unable to see, Skal was marched outside and forced to his knees in a patch of loose stones. The small, sharp fragments bit into his knees, a discomfort that grew considerably as his legs were raised and bound to force all his weight into the knees. His arms were pulled out wide and bound tightly, followed by a loose collar locking around his neck. He was left in the stress position for several minutes, his whining stifled by the hood as the muted sounds of men moving and speaking slowly filtered in.

Without warning, the lash bit home. Skal had suffered many punishments, especially as a Penitatas, but the bite of the whip was by far the worst. It hit with such force that he could not scream, instead gasping in shock into the choking wad in his muzzle. The pain was unlike anything he'd experienced before; where a paddle was a broad, thudding pain or a switch was a stinging bite, the whip tore into and through him with a searing, bone deep agony.

The second stroke bit deep, knocking what little air he had from his lungs. Skal's heart hammered in his chest, pounding so hard he felt it might burst out. He tried to beg for mercy, but his muffled words were answered by a third torturous strike. The boy felt himself slipping out of consciousness and into the mercy of oblivion. Through the inescapable agony a tiny part of his mind clung to awareness, fearful of the escape the darkness offered. He feared if he gave in he'd never wake up.

The fourth lash broke him. Skal felt his soul leaving his body, and gave up a silent prayer for forgiveness as the world faded away.

He'd never expected to return, but return he did. He was face down on a large, comfortable bed in a room he didn't recognise. The sheets were silk, the bed frame pale, varnished wood. Books, real leather and paper books filled the shelves to his right, while beneath the window to his left was a table of silver and frosted glass. A jug of water and another of wine, both half empty, sat upon the table. He tried to rise, but the sudden fire in his back knocked him down again and drew a desperate scream from his dry, chapped muzzle.

The doors opposite opened immediately, revealing Kadan and Kas. The latter was slumped over the arm of a lounger, pale and miserable. Kadan came to Skal's side and helped him settle, shushing and stroking him until the Penny's back pain settled down to a dull throbbing.

"Easy, lad. Settle down, just rest." Kadan said in as comforting a tone as he could manage. "You've been through a lot, so just focus on healing."

Skal gave no reply. His eyes remained fixed on Kas, who briefly met the stare before looking away in shame. A brief glimpse of a bandage suggested his back had also felt the lash.

"I'm pretty sure you were in shock. Maybe you still are," Kadan continued as he poured Skal a glass of water, which he offered up via a straw so the boy wouldn't have to sit up.

Skal drank a little, but even a mouthful made his stomach churn. "Where am I?" he croaked.

"The billet, officer's quarters," Kadan replied.

Skal looked around again as much as he could without moving his back at all. The two rooms together seemed almost as large as the residence, and a third door suggested storage, maybe even a private washroom. The decor was several steps up. "Why don't we live here?" he asked weakly.

"I have my reasons," was Kadan's bitter reply. He rubbed his knuckles into Skal's cheek, the action triggering an instinctive pleasure response that made the boy's tail flick up briefly, but his eyes did not reflect any pleasure. "I know you probably won't believe me, but I need this said regardless: I never wanted to do this to you, but I can't ignore you running away like that. You're a Penitatas and a slave, you cannot come and go as you please."

The boy made a quiet whimper in reply and tried to pull away from Kadan's hand. He pulled away and let the boy settle on his own, "If it's worth anything to you at all, I felt like you were making real progress. You've been good this weak, better than good. Just promise me you won't do this again."

Again, no answer was forthcoming. Kadan gave a quiet sigh and stood up, turning his attention to Kas, "I hope you're not going to be running off again?"

"No sir," Kas replied urgently, to Kadan's amusement.

The Captain gave a smile and said, "listen, if you want some time off I'll authorise it. It's pretty clear to both of us you've been through a lot lately. Is there someone you want to stay with? Friends or family you want to visit?"

Kas shook his head, "No sir. My family's right here."

Kadan looked back at Skal, who had closed his eyes in an unconvincing act of sleep. "Maybe what you need is a friend like he has. Someone you can turn to. Someone who understands what it's like to be a Medicalos. Have you tried getting to know the other rejuves in the Guild?"

"I don't want friends. I want to get my hands on the scumbag we brought in," Kas growled in response.

"That's not good enough. Make some friends, Kas. That's an order." Kadan watched the Penitatas on the bed a little longer, musing to himself how best to proceed. "Maybe you can start with him. See if you can't win him over, yeah?"

With those final words, Kadan left the boys alone. Slowly, for moving was no joy for either of them, they both struggled to their feet and met face to face. Kas appeared sheepish in the presence of the Penitatas, despite the brief aggression he'd displayed moments before. "So... for what it's worth... I'm sorry," he managed, choosing not to meet Skal's eye as he spoke.

"I trusted you," Skal said breathlessly, "you promised Kadan wouldn't be mad with me."

"He's not. He really didn't want to punish you, or me in fact. Thing is, sometime's you've got to be hard on people when you're in charge. The Guild's no place for weak men, or those who can't follow instructions. I deserved what I got, but I shouldn't have dragged you along."

Skal answered with bared teeth. He was hurting both physically and mentally, and had no real interest in Kas' apologies. He turned his attention to a gilded cart parked near the door, probing its contents until he found a few strips of salted meat to chew upon. The act of eating made his insides churn, but he was convinced that it would pass.

Kas, seemingly determined to find some common ground, spoke to Skal while the boy foraged, "The Captain really wants you to be better. I couldn't figure out why he cared about you, so I asked him and he said 'because he's like us'. I've been trying to work out what that meant, but I think I have an idea now. Do you have any family, Skal?"

"You know I don't," the Penitatas grumbled without looking around.

"Nor do I," Kas replied, which caused Skal's ears to twitch toward him, "I was a lot like you. I lived rough, ran with a youth gang called the 'tendon cutters', which was just to make us sound tough. Worst thing we ever did was a bump and lift. First time I played the lifter I got rumbled, had the shit kicked out of me, and then got dragged to the Enforcers who found more shit to kick out. Then along came a captain who took pity on me. He gave me a choice: go back to the streets and waste my life, or come here, put on that prospect uniform and serve the Guild."

"Kadan brought you in?" Skal asked, genuinely curious despite his earlier frustration.

Kas shook his head, "no, it was Vingyir. He took Kadan in too, bought him from the stockade and raised him like a son. We both came from nothing, the Guild gave us a life. I think he wants that for you too, deep down."

Skal struggled to take in the revelation. It was both surprising, and in a way hurtful to learn Kadan had once been another man's property, yet seemed so happy to make others suffer in kind. He turned his focus to the implied proposition, "I don't think I want to be an Enforcer."

"Maybe not, but you could still be a part of the Guild. Not to be cruel, but you don't have anywhere else to go. It's just something to think about. You have to do your time first either way."

The comment made Skal glance down at the backs of his paws. He still wore the gloves to hide his Penitatas mark, but he could feel them there, as surely as he'd felt the Shepherd watching him in the punishment yard. The brief, morbid thought made him shiver. "I don't want to be a Penny anymore," he whined to himself, his chest tightening at the prospect of the years of beatings and other tortures that lay ahead.

To his surprise, Kas clasped the boy's gloved paw in his own, the silver Ms showing clearly against his blond fur. "I'm starting to think being a Medi isn't much better. But I've got your back, for what that's worth."

Skal gave a weak smile in reply. He knew what that was worth; his back had the scars to prove it.