The First Penitatas
Chapter 37 – The Cost of Defiance

Beneath his silken sheets, Hafn Tavik writhed restlessly in the throes of anguish. The Kyyreni boy was heartbroken, having been spurned by a girl he loved. His mind's eye played the scene over and over on unending repeat: he followed Ros' advice and confessed to her that he cared for her deeply, but his elders had decided she was no-longer welcome within the walls of House Vaskal. Her smile had faded, her body stiffened, her ears subtly turning at a more hostile angle. “I see,” she'd responded, and that was it. Her pleasantries afterwards felt scripted, and the next day she scarcely acknowledged he existed at all.
His bedroom door whispered open, the thick carpet muffled the footsteps of the opener as they stepped inside. “Hafn? It's time to get up. You have school.”
The boy grimaced at Eskal's words. “I'm not going!” he barked into his pillow.
“Come on, you've no time for silliness. Get up now or you'll miss your breakfast.”
“I said I'm not going!” the boy flung himself upright and confronted his mentor. “I don't have to go to that stupid school now! I have a tutor here!”
Eskal's brow furrowed at the unexpected aggression. “Your presence gives the school prestige, Hafn. Lady Ylari wishes for the school to succeed, and-”
“I'm sick of being used!” the princeling spat. “I'm supposed to be important but nobody ever listens to me! All I do is follow other people round like a trophy! I'm not doing that any more!”
“Hafn, this is not a request. You have a simple choice: go to school, or go to school hungry and hurting.” Eskal tapped the buckle of his belt for emphasis.
The young Kyyreni boy gave him a fierce scowl. “You can do whatever you want, but I'm still not going!”
Eskal gave a sad shake of his head. “Alright, sire Tavik, if that is your wish then I will inform Lady Ylari.” The war-scarred Dawnsider shifted his walking cane and bowed long and low before backing out of the room and carefully closing the door.
The sudden compliance left the boy baffled. He clutched at his tail anxiously, massaging the tip as he wondered if he truly had gotten his way for once. With a huff, Hafn dropped back down and nuzzled into the pillow, whispering what he hoped would become a soothing mantra; “I never have to see her again.”

There was only so long a boy could lie in bed. An empty stomach and a full bladder roused him and compelled him to explore solutions to both. The latter was first and easily attended, for there were no shortage of sanitation facilities in the male wing of the House. Food was more centralised, but there at least Hafn could flex his influence. He found the dining room empty save for a pair of Kyyreni girls who, judging by their expressions and the occasional scold from the only adult present, were being made to do chores as a punishment. They barely acknowledged Hafn, though that was hardly unexpected; the boys and girls of House Vaskal hardly ever interacted.
In the kitchens beyond were more House members busy with cleaning. There was another girl here, a rejuve who saw herself as being in charge of the space. Her subordinates were slaves – one Human, one Kyyreni Nightsider. The latter was closer, and was thus first to acknowledge Hafn's presence. “Sire Tavik,” he said with a respectful nod.
“Hey. I... missed breakfast,” the boy said weakly.
The rejuve girl gave a loud harrumph. “Lazy children don't get fed!”
The commend made Hafn scowl. “I want my breakfast,” he growled at the girl.
“Then you should learn to get out of bed sooner!” she spat back.
Hafn's ear twitched at the sound of rubber striking tile. He turned as Eskal stepped into the room, cane in hand. He looked toward the defiant girl and asked her coldly, “what is your place in this House?”
She met his stare with absolute confidence. “I am a Lady of-”
“No longer. Your former station was lost upon rejuvenation, as per the laws of inheritance and succession. You are not a high lady, you are not a supervisor, you are a duty girl.”
Another harrumph escaped her maw. “You have some nerve talking to me like that young man!”
“Unlike you, I know both my place and my duty here. I am an advisor to Lord Wokun, and an instructor to sire Tavik. My duty is to keep wayward children in line, and you are most certainly a wayward child.” His free paw came to rest upon his belt buckle. “Remind me of your station.”
Hafn saw the smug grins on the two slaves as the rejuve girl bowed her head, ears and tail hung low and heavy. “I.. am a duty girl.”
“Then make me some breakfast, 'duty girl',” Hafn ordered with just a little malice. After Lyy broke his heart, it felt good to make other people miserable for a change.
“Do you have plans for today, sire Tavik?” Eskal asked as he watched the rejuve girl navigate the kitchen.
“Not really.”
“Then I have a few suggestions, if I may?”
Hafn looked up at Eskal with a furrowed brow. “Why are you acting strange?”
Eskal cocked his head. “Strange? I don't think I'm acting strange. You wanted people to show you the proper respect, didn't you? That's all I'm trying to do, sire.”
As reasonable as the explanation seemed, it left Hafn uncomfortable. “Okay. What are your suggestions?”
“There are several matters of state to be attended to, mundane things that are nevertheless central to our social obligations as a House. You have been party to grand ceremonies and public events, but I believe you would benefit from learning of the more 'private' aspects of what a House does.”
“Okay, I can do that.”
“Excellent. I will make the proper arrangements. May I recommend you wear your family colours for the meeting? It is a small thing, but it would doubtless assist us all. May I take your leave, sire?”
“Eskal, you're really acting weird,” Hafn insisted, but as he studied Eskal's muzzle he saw only polite patience. “Yeah, sure. You can go I guess.” The older male bowed again and departed.

After eating, Hafn decided to follow Eskal's suggestion. He stopped for a bath first, another luxury that was readily available in the main wing. There was usually a lot of competition for bathing facilities in the House of an evening, especially for young men who had likely worked up quite a sweat in their daily activities and wished to be made presentable for an evening of drinking and womanising. The boy could have summoned a servant to bathe him, but it was quicker and easier just to tend to himself. Besides, the luxury of being pampered in such a fashion had worn off surprisingly quickly.
Once clad in familiar teal, Hafn went in search of Eskal once more, finding him in the entrance hall. The Dawnsider had also changed attire, now dressed only in a knee-length kilt of Vaskal colours and a belt from which his heat blade and pistol dangled. The lack of clothing showed his scars clearly, but the absence of his walking stick served to give a greater sense of health and power to the man. He was still far from the peak Hafn remembered upon first seeing the off-worlder, but many weeks of tireless exercise and training had left him looking less like a walking corpse. As if to make up for the lack of clothes, Eskal had adorned himself with silver rings and torcs, as well as a gem-studded pendant in the shape of a sword. “Ah, sire Tavik! Come, please, wait here with me,” he called out upon sighting Hafn.
The boy did as ordered, joined soon after by the ever-present Dokkr, his bodyguard. Like Eskal, Dokkr's clothing – or lack thereof – showed the cost a lifetime of service had wrought upon his flesh. His extensive cybernetics made Hafn uncomfortable, though as ever he kept that to himself. Last to arrive was Lady Ulyr, mother of Lord Wokun and Lady Ylari. She wore a full-length dress, though no jewels, and was followed by her rejuve handmaid. The Kyyreni girl was nude, though covered in silver and gold more than anyone else present. Decorative binds of precious metal wrapped around her limbs and torso, including a golden framework at the pelvis that seemed to draw Hafn's eye pointedly towards her genitalia, and invoked a slight swelling within his loose shorts. He quickly snapped his eyes away.
The finery was, it turned out, for the benefit of two members of the Lifter Guild. They were both Dawnsiders, a male and female so alike in appearance that they were almost certainly siblings. The male was of course blond-furred, a colour that blended overmuch with the bold Lifter Yellow of his attire, with a mane and tail tuft of matching colour. His sister was a tabby-striped mix of brown and grey, with her lack of mane revealing a hint of a pale streak starting at the collar and vanishing into her yellow business attire. Both visitors bowed deeply to their hosts. “Lady Ulyr, we thank you for your gracious invitation,” the female said.
“My thanks for your prompt reply. I do hope the suddenness did not inconvenience you. Please, this way.”
Eskal placed a subtle paw in front of Hafn to prevent him following. Once the Lady, her servant and the Lifters were gone he spoke softly, “we are here pure to observe. I will have questions for you after to judge what you have gleamed from all of this, so be attentive.”
“I understand,” Hafn answered. He was comforted by the instructions; this was the kind of behaviour he'd come to expect from Eskal, not the strange, submissive doting from earlier.
Hafn entered the meeting room as Ulyr and her guests were settling into the fine white-leather chairs therein. The siblings shared a short couch, one that was designed for lounging and thus forced them to perch on the edge of the padding. The two Lifters each placed a pale yellow handkerchief on the table in front of her, which Ulyr subtly glanced at before addressing them. “Olla, Orstr, may I offer you refreshments? I have recently been introduced to a delightful Chaldakri beverage. 'Taorm' I believe it is called. An earthy flavoured wine.”
“That would be excellent,” Olla answered with a smile. Her brother merely nodded.
The handmaid approached carrying a try with four glasses and a wine bottle filled with brown liquid. The poured into the smallest and plainest of the glasses first, and to the surprise of the Lifters  drank from it. The girl stared up at the ceiling thoughtfully for a time before turning to her mistress and whispering 'safe', then poured into the remaining glasses. Lady Ulyr permitted her guests to choose which glass they would take before accepting the remainder and sipping the liquid. “I have grown rather fond of taorm of late. Do you find it to your liking?”
Olla nodded a little too eagerly. “Indeed, Lady, it is a-”
The compliment died on her lips as a sound escaped the handmaid's throat. A muffled wretched, like caught vomit. Orstr jolted the glass away from his maw sharply, splashing his suit in his haste while Olla went from blushing to deathly pale in a heartbeat. All eyes were on the girl as she stood frozen in horror, wide-eyed and rigid. Then she turned her head, hid her muzzle behind her paw and burped so loudly it made Hafn snort in childish laughter.
Ulyr took the incident in stride. “I too find it a somewhat gaseous beverage, though it seems to sit much better in and adult stomach.”
The Lady of Vaskal placed her glass carefully upon a table mat and gave her shaken guests a motherly smile. “I hear that the Guild has increased its service rates, is this correct?”
“Yes ma'am,” the female Lifter answered in a still rattled tone. “Given the losses we incurred during the Terror it was deemed necessary.”
“We have an entire starport to rebuild,” Orstr added.
Ulyr accepted the answer with a subtle bow of the head. “I believe you have also introduced a new surcharge?”
A smile formed on Olla's muzzle as she delved further into the welcome world of finances. “Yes ma'am, the surcharge is intended to raise funds for reconstruction efforts. All coin generated by this will be distributed to trusted, certified construction companies for the express goal of repairing and maintaining our transport network, first within the City and then outwards.”
The Lady cocked her head slightly. “I don't believe such matters fall within the remit of the Lifters Guild.”
Though the words were spoken softly, both Lifters paused awkwardly. Orstr cleared his throat and sought to clarify, “We depend entirely upon roads and transit networks to function, ma'am, so-”
“You also depend on power. Do fusion power plants fall under Lifter remit?”
There was no mistaking the tone of voice now. “No, ma'am. That would be the purview of the Power Guild,” Orstr responded in the flat tones of someone who knew he was cornered.
Olla pressed her palms together in a submissive gesture, smiling meekly as she tried to placate the Lady. “If I may, there are precedents for-”
“Do forgive me for interrupting, but I am well read on matters of High Law,” Ulyr paused to allow the implication of her words to sink in. High Law were the rules governing the noble classes, laws that were so far above the 'Thrall' class to which the Lifters belonged that they technically had no rights under such legal doctrine. “I have heard from a great many Guild-regulated companies and independent operators who feel these new fees and your increases in certification are stifling their ability to earn a living. Now, more than ever, we need access to transport and shipping. I do not see how strangling smaller operators helps the City and Taviksaad as a whole recover from our recent harrowing.”
“We are not gouging, my Lady,” Olla tried to assure, “the Guild Company has also seen decreased profitability.”
“Yet you self-certify. Guild-owned services can easily afford to undercut the competition.”
Orstr dared to frown at the noblewoman. “Are you accusing us of corruption?”
“I am merely observing that your well-intended policy changes have had unexpected, and unintended negative consequences on those outside of your direct authority.”
The male Kyyreni opened his mouth to speak again, but Ulyr rose sharply from her seat. “It has been a pleasure to speak with you both, but as I said my time is short. Do forgive my rudeness, but I shall ask you to depart now.”
Orstr's obvious frustration faded when Eskal banged the door with his fist. The Lifter glanced at the scarred warrior, whose free hand rested on the hilt of his sword. He gave a meek nod to the noble, “thank you for your time, ma'am. You are as ever a gracious host.”
With the Lifters gone, Ulyr permitted herself a playful chuckle. She turned to her handmaid and ruffled the girl's headfur. “You played your part excellently, my dear! I think you should go change into something more comfortable. Gentlemen,” she gave a nod to the honour guard as she departed.
Eskal turned his attention to Hafn. “Do you understand what happened here, sire?”
“Well, the tasting bit seemed like it was to make sure the drinks weren't poisoned, but I don't think that would have ever happened!”
“No, but the idea of it – and the theatrics of the girl – certainly rattled the Lifters. It never hurts to put your opponent on tilt, sire. What else did you observe?”
“That the Lifters were screwing over the little guy,” Hafn added bitterly, having been a 'little guy' himself once. “Do you think they'll really stop gouging people with their prices?”
“I suspect they will.”
“But we didn't order them to! Lady Ulyr just told them we know they're being bastards!”
An unwelcome sigh escaped Eskal's lips, a sound Hafn knew to mean he'd disappointed his mentor. “People don't like being told what to do, sire. I ordered you to go to school this morning, even threatened you with pain, yet here you stand. Did my order or my threat change your mind?”
Hafn paused, his gut telling him he was walking into a verbal trap. “But... but I wouldn't have gone if I had the choice either.”
Eskal nodded in agreement. “True. Just because someone has a choice doesn't mean they will make the choices you hoped for. However, compliance by choice is always more agreeable. For example, I could bind you in chains and drag you to the library, hold open your eyelids and force you to stare at the pages of books. You would have no choice but to read, though you would surely resent your treatment. Instead, I could offer you a choice between reading your lessons or practice in the yard, and in this case I think you would resent your reading much less.”
The Kyyreni boy pouted, “If I go to the yard you're going to hit me with sticks!”
The older male laughed loudly at the protest, “Yes, sire! Physical training invariably means getting hit, and getting hurt! 'No pain, no gain', as the Terrans say. Reading has its own pains, just not quite so obvious or severe, yes? Please, sire, spend some time in the library. Udum was always impressed by how well you absorbed the old wisdom, and Lady Ylari values his opinion greatly. Find more ways to impress them both.”
“Okay, I will,” Hafn sighed, though he didn't trust Eskal's bowing one bit as he headed for the library.

For a few hours, Hafn dutifully read the books a noble scion was supposed to know by heart. He occasionally tried to look for something else to read in the childish hope one of the novels might be some exciting fiction, but far too many were written in kysklaat, a language no low-born boy had any reason to learn, or even encounter. The books were as boring as ever, yet the Kyyreni child found the merest flicker of comfort from Eskal's observations; Udum had indeed seemed delighted by Hafn's ability to recite the words of long dead kings and philosophers, however mangled his quotations sometimes came out. As lunch came and went, the boy found a second source of pleasure; barring the occasional servant on their daily routine, nobody was checking in on him.
Naturally, this total freedom encouraged a certain degree of laxity. The library had a computer terminal with network access, which was a fine way to avoid lessons. He even put some genuine work into his cover story should someone wander in; he found a page referencing some ancient tribal kingdom and left it open on the desk, then found a digital encyclopedia providing details on the lost people. Cover intact, he started watching replays of Kingsball matches with the sound off. The one thing he didn't factor in was getting overly excited by the show, but as luck would have it he was between videos when Eskal re-emerged. “Shouldn't you be studying, sire?” the veteran asked.
Hafn startled, but quickly pointed down to his book. “I was looking up about the Southern Dawn. The book mentions a lot of stuff I've never heard of. Places like... Jagenja? Gadeng?.”
Eskal cocked his head, eyes narrowing slightly, yet his frustration quickly faded. “It's pronounced 'Ladenl', though I suppose there's little need for you to know of Urokon. After all, most Kyyreni born on worlds like this will never see the homeworld. For you it's all just names and dates.” The Urokon-born Kyyreni seemed homesick for a moment, though he soon shrugged it off. “Regardless, you should join me in the gardens. You have a guest waiting for you.”
“A guest?” Hafn slipped from his seat and hurried to Eskal's side. “Is this some formal thing I have to do?”
“In a manner of speaking.”

The gardens of House Vaskal were self-contained worlds. Each was walled off by hedges or high fences, most containing elaborate sound-dampening technology to allow a visitor to escape the background noise of the City, or simply speak of matters without risk of eavesdropping. Both were in high demand for the rulers of a planet. Eskal had chosen one of Hafn's favourite gardens; a strip of yellow grass surrounded by gravel path and stone benches, with a twisting tree at one end. Hidden sound systems gave the space a simulacrum of nature with distant, fluting animal calls and the sigh of unseen trees swaying in an imagined breeze.
Dokkr was waiting there with another boy beside him. Skal's muzzle spread into a friendly smile at Hafn's approach, and the princeling hurried over to his Penny friend. “What are you doing here?” Hafn asked.
Skal twitched his nose towards Dokkr. “Your guard said you wanted me here.”
“It was I who asked for you, I'm afraid,” Eskal corrected. Though his tone was soft, mournful even, both boys couldn't suppress an instinctive flick of their ears or nervous tail twitch. “I am sorry to both of you for this, but believe me when I say this is necessary.”
“What's going on?” Hafn asked anxiously, hunting for answers in Eskal's expression.
“You do not wish to follow the path that has been set for you, Hafn. You defied Lady Ylari's wishes, and my efforts to compel you. You made it clear that no amount of punishment would make you change your mind. I don't believe that's true, for what it's worth; I am quite confident we could beat you into compliance. However, it occurred to me that you must learn a more important lesson: your actions have consequences not only for yourself. This is the lesson you are going to learn. Here. Now.”

Eskal gave a nod to Dokkr, who clamped his artificial paw upon Skal's shoulder. He marched the boy towards the tree, ignoring the Penny's protests, and reached up with his flesh-and-fur limb to grasp at a low branch. It broke away, though not cleanly, leaving a splintered end of green-tinted branch behind.
“Wait! Stop!” Hafn barked desperately at the sight of the switch in the lifeward's hand, but Eskal's paws gripped him tight and held him in place. “Eskal, stop it! Leave him alone!”
“I'm sorry, Hafn, but this is decided.”
The princeling Dawnsider gave a pained whine. “I'll go to school like you wanted! I... I'll even take my punishment! Just don't hurt Skal because of me!”
“That's a good start, Hafn,” Eskal sighed. “But I'm afraid we must continue. The lesson has to be learned.”

The noble boy was forced to watch as his friend was dragged to one of the benches. Skal squirmed in the metallic grip of Dokkr's artificial arm. The ugly, war-ruined lifeward cared little for the boy's desperation, nor did he notice the occasional futile kick Skal aimed against his metal leg. “Fighting won't get you out of it,” he said through scarred and broken lips. “Cooperate and I will go easy.”
Skal felt the grip loosen. He took two quick steps back and looked up in what he'd meant to be defiance at the half-ruined muzzle of Dokkr, but it was hard to match the coldness of a cybernetic eye. “Take off your clothes,” the guard ordered. Skal paused, considering his options, but gave in. Once he was down to his bare, blond fur, Dokkr gestured at the bench with the switch. “Lie on your front. Ball up your clothes and use them to brace your crotch.”
A low whimper slipped from Skal's maw as he followed the orders, shuffling a little as he tried to find some comfort against the cold stone of the bench. Dokkr waited for him to settle before taking a length of cord and tying it to Skal's tail. The other end he tied to the boy's bicep. Now that Skal was readied readied, Dokkr took up the cut branch with his mechanical limb and brought it down sharply. The whirring of of the limb and the whoosh of the switch gave Skal just enough time to brace before a sharp, searing jolt flashed across his cheeks, biting deep into his flesh. The boy's tail pulled hard against the binding, his footpaws jerked and a pained yelp slipped from his lips. Before he could recover a second followed, drawing a louder yelp.
The next stroke brought tears to Skal's eyes. His crotch jolted hard against the soft fabric of his shirt and shorts as a hot red welt formed under his ruffled fur. He tried to glance behind him, eyes clamping shut as another blow hit home, and when he opened his eyes he sought for Hafn. Tears blurred his gaze so he could not read the boy's expression clearly, and Dokkr was in no mind to pause. “W-why a-oowow!” he yowled out, failing to question his tormentors.
Stroke upon stroke found the soft fur of Skal's rear. If it gave any padding at all the boy could not tell, nor did it do much to hide the hot, red soreness beneath. Dokkr's methods were precise and efficient, patterning the Kyyreni boy's rear with parallel lines set to a subtle angle so that each cheek's stripes formed a chevron pointing down his backside. Bawling shamelessly beneath the switch, Skal had no appreciation for this artistry. Nor did Hafn, who watched in pained anxiety as the tree branch worked across the soft cheeks and found the firmer, more tender flesh of the thigh.
As hellish as a switching to the buttocks had been, the bite of the thin, whippish stick against his upper leg drew a new, helpless howl from Skal's maw. His squirming and thrashing grew in desperation, prompting Dokkr to hold him firmly in place to make sure the switch found its mark. Though word was spoken, the intent was clear; Skal was going to endure having both thighs thoroughly striped.

When at last Dokkr stepped away, Skal had not the strength to move from where he'd been left. His rear and thighs were burning, with phantom pulses of imagined, remembered or anticipated strikes making his legs twitch as he shuddered and sobbed his pain into the stone bench beneath him.
Eskal squeezed Hafn's shoulder tightly to draw the boy's attention. “Your actions will have consequences for others. Today, your defiance brought pain to your friend. Tomorrow, your ignorance could see him killed. You are burdened with a great and terrible responsibility; to choose the course of a civilisation, and in so doing decide who will thrive, who will struggle, and who will perish. Every time you put your wants and desires before the needs of others you bring suffering into the world. Remember that.”
“I...” Hafn began, but Eskal pointed sharply towards Skal's shaking, whimpering form.
“Let this image burn into your mind. Remember always that this was your doing.” Eskal stepped back, giving the youth some space. Hafn heard a weighty intake of breath behind him, but no lecture or chastisement came of it; Eskal quietly departed the garden without further comment.
Dokkr remained a few moments longer. He studied Hafn's face for a time before simply saying, “When your friend composes himself you should bring him to the entrance hall. I'll arrange transport to take him home.”
Hafn waited. He waited with tears in his eyes and lead in his stomach, hurting and hating himself as he took in every aching detail of Skal's beaten rear. It was almost a relief when the spanked youth finally wriggled off the bench and slowly, achingly made himself decent. He winced and whined as his shorts brushed against his beaten cheeks. “Skal...” Hafn whimpered in a pathetic attempt to begin an apology.
“I don't want to hear it,” Skal rasped back as sternly as he could manage, still sniffling and wet-eyed.
With a defeated sigh, Hafn let his head droop low. “You... you should probably stop being friends with me. It's only going to make you miserable being tied to me now we know... that they'll hurt my friends every time I do something stupid... like I always do!”
Skal's expression softened a little. “What did you even do to piss them off so much? From what Eskal said it sounded like it's about Udum's school.”
The question made Hafn wince. “I didn't want to go to school anymore. I didn't want to have to see Lyy again.” He dared to glance up at Skal after his confession, expecting to be met with anger and derision. Instead, he saw something akin to sympathy in his friend's teary face.
“I don't think I'd want to be around an ex either if I'd been dumped so coldly.”
“You... forgive me?” Hafn dared to ask.
Skal grimaced at the question. “I'm really fucking mad at you, but I'm madder at your minders. I want to go home, Hafn.”
“I know. Come on, I'm sure Dokkr will have a car for you.”

Home was not as comforting as it should have been for Skal. The little blond cub hid in the loft playroom, lounging in a bag-chair with his bare backside exposed to the rafters to minimise the sting. Sam lay beside him, gently stroking his paw and talking softly, sympathetically about what he'd been put through. That would all have been enough to lull him into a comfortable torpor, but for his father; below and behind at least one set of doors, Kadan's muffled rage had still been quite audible. Try as he might to simply lose himself in Sam's kind attention, Skal was left stuck in a pit of anxiety over what his father's legendary rage might unleash.
When Kadan finally emerged, visibly seething, Skal couldn't suppress a sharp, frightened intake of breath. The Guildmaster locked eyes on Skal, and at once the primal fury in his face began to ebb. He ran his paws through his thick, dark mane as if seeking to soothe himself before speaking. “How are you feeling?”
“I'm okay,” Skal replied with a forced smile.
“Good. I'm glad.” Kadan nodded along to his basic platitudes as he fished for something more to add. Skal could feel the man's need to find a bottle to drown his feelings with. “I've been thinking lately about what your place is going to be, long term I mean. You're learning laws and protocols and how to do basic stuff, but I was thinking that you might like to see other parts of Guild life. The Border Guard?”
The implication made Skal's stomach tighten. “You're going to send me away?”
Kadan caught the tone of his son's voice and quickly waved away the concern. “No! Well, not like you think. You've got a thing for ships, so how do you feel about serving on one? I can talk to the Border-Marshal about getting you leave to board one of the patrol ships. You wouldn't be leaving the system, and you won't be going off ship. It'd just be a ride-along for you to get some first hand experience of what we do out in the black. Is that something you'd like?”
Skal eased himself upright, uncaring of his nudity in familiar company. He crept forward, still fragile from all he'd been put through, with heavy breathing despite the lack of physical effort. As he drew close the dam burst, and Skal flung himself forward to tightly hug his adoptive father as he burst into fitful laughter. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”
“Hey, nothing's set up yet!” Kadan protested, though he couldn't help but smile. He stroked the boy's head and added, “Since you're clearly up for it I'll make the calls. Just you remember that you will have to be on your absolute best behaviour! Just taking you up to the docks was pushing things; you are not supposed to be boarding any ships as a Penny!”
“Then how are you going to get me aboard?”
Kadan snorted at the question. “I'm the Enforcers Guildmaster, and I don't give a flying fuck what the nobles have to say about where I can and cannot send you. I'm bending the rules to be nice to you; just keep that in mind and keep your nose clean. In fact, keep it clean from now until you leave as well.”
“I will!” the boy answered eagerly.
His temper soothed by Skal's glee, Kadan gave the lad a last ruffling of his fur before heading back downstairs. So giddy he felt as if he might float away, Skal danced back to Sam's comforting grasp, finding the girl holding one of his model ships with a grin on her muzzle. “So, you're going to be a real life void-farer soon?”
“Looks that way!”
She gave a smile that melted Skal's heart as they drew closer. Carefully dropping the toy onto the soft bean-bag chair, Sam placed a playful kiss on Skal's chin. “I've heard stories about spacers like you – a different girl in every port!”
With a laugh, Skal closed his arms around Sam, lifting her up and twirling around, their tails flying out behind them to balance the hasty move. “Don't worry, I only have eyes for you.”
“Eww, mushy stuff!” she laughed back, but it earned another peck on the cheek regardless.