The First Penitatas: Victory Day
Nothing inspired patriotism quite like an execution.
For the first time since Rejuve Day the palatial commons were thronged with musicians and street performers. Flags and banners flew through the still air, many with tiny impulse units to make them flutter in a simulated breeze. Kyyreni of all breeds and classes were gathered in the spectacle, sharing in the symbolic healing of the broken city. The high-born moved in tiny islands of space thanks to the aggressive shoving of their guards. Data-thiefs and card-skimmers had more pickings than they could ever hope for, and many of them escaped justice due to the pressing lack of Enforcers. The cautious wore scramblers and exload-blockers; the smart ones left their devices home.
For the pleasure of the public eight executions had been scheduled for the morning. Eight thick poles of age-blackened timber stood on a raised platform, brought from the Homeworld for this grim purpose. Connected to each pole was a burner and cauldron.
The condemned were heralded to the poles with the blaring of horns. Three women and five men came out one by one, stripped bare so their bloody welts and bruises were clear for all to see. As per tradition, the women were hooded to give them some degree of modesty. The crowds jeered and hurled abuse as each criminal was secured in place, arms pulled high above their heads and legs locked into the cauldron. 
The last to emerge was Avyyr, former representative of the Royal Slaver Company. Despite being starved, tortured and raped for several days, she emerged from the dungeon tall and proud. She was steered to the pole with head held high and offered her executioners no resistance as they secured her. Where weaker wills wept or begged for mercy, Avyyr did not so much as flinch as the braziers were lit.
Boiling was not a quick way to die, but the crowds had other ways to amuse themselves. Lesser criminals were brought onto the stage, stripped and bound in a wooden stock and literally thrown to the mob. They would fight their way through the crowd, being tripped, punched and kicked every step of the way, but their punishment only truly ended when they found someone willing to free them from their restraints. Their crimes were carved into the stock, and if no-one would free them their only choice would be to come crawling back to the very Enforcers who subjected them to the torment.
However, in the spirit of the new age, a second warm-up act was arranged. On each side of the execution square six benches had been set up, and while the condemned were readied for death Penitatas were brought from the Hall of Corrections, stripped nude and bound firmly to the benches. A sample of spanking implements were provided by Corrections for those who wished to use them, and soon six little boys and six little girls, their tails locked up safely and the fur shaved from their bottoms were readied for public humiliation. Under Enforcer supervision, the dozen Pennys howled and bawled for hour after hour of unrelenting punishment.
Finally, the main event began. The first cauldron reached painful temperatures and trapped, immobile, they could only cry out in agony as their feet began to boil. They begged for mercy and for death, but neither came swiftly. The mob roared in a mocking echo of their suffering. Some brought hooks to fish out the braziers, not as an act of mercy but so it would take longer for them to die.
As with all good executions, the day passed into folklore. According to bar tales, Avyyr endured her fate in silence, standing with head aloft until her soul fled her body. It was untrue - she had screamed, thrashed and soiled herself for all to see, but that didn't matter; she would live on in legend, more respected in death than she ever had been in life.

Kadan and Bast had both volunteered for crowd control duties during the execution, and they had brought their growing gaggle of rejuves with them. Skal had watched the boiling from atop Kadan's shoulders, and to his mild surprise he was not the only child riding tall above the throng. Yansa chose not to watch, and despite his eagerness for the spectacle, Kas chose to keep her distracted with cheap toys bought from a nearby vendor.
For Skal, the mood of the mob was addictive. He lost himself in the animal urges, he cheered and roared and hurled abuse as men and women died before his eyes. When Kas managed to steer the group over to the Penny girls, their bottoms already spanked into an ugly, bruised purple, he joined Kas and spanked them further without a moment's thought.
When their duties ended, Kadan and Bast steered the group away while the main crowd was still distracted. With three hungry rejuves, and two thirsty adults, the group was drawn towards the restaurants dotted around the edge of the common. They were expensive looking establishments, although a few were marred with remnants of unrest; graffiti and vandalism.
As they reached the end of the row of restaurants, Bast let out a long whistle. "I hear this place does stuff from all across the galaxy. Think we can make some excuse to score a free sample?" 
Kadan gave a wolfish grin in reply. It was a grin all Kyyreni were good at, but his was a masterpiece. "The Lord Governor is funding our day off. Let's give it a go."
Through the aged wooden door, the restaurant beyond was a palace. Gilded, delicate light fixtures cast a comfortable glow over silver-lined furniture padded with red leather. The heraldry of the First House was emblazoned onto wall panels and frosted glass dividers. Scented burners filled the air with an alluring perfume that swirled around hanging tapestries depicting a stylised history of Taviksaad. Some of the larger tables had gilded plaques with archaic script upon them alongside a House or Guild heraldry, likely denoting patronage or repeat custom. Last, but by no means least was the servant. She wafted over to them, statuesque and graceful. Her only item of clothing were two bands of white silk across her eyes, leaving her reliant on heat-sense. Her body was decorated with rings, torcs and piercings of precious metals. Her four breasts were pierced with gemstone studs, and every toe and finger bore a blued steel ring mounting a green gem.
The server bowed low with the eloquence of a dancer. "Welcome to Offworld Pleasures, valued customer." As she rose, Kadan caught the glimpse of an earpiece disguised as a silver trinket. Her expression hardened by the merest of fractions, and a twitch of her ears showed someone had explained exactly what had walked through the door. "How may I serve the Guild of the Lord's Justice?"
"We came to eat, care of our Lord," Kadan answered as he pulled out a sealed steel card-case. The server offered a palm to grace with the card, and with another bow she retreated for several minutes, leaving the group to soak in the surrounds of their betters.
Upon her return, the server guided her unlikely patrons to one of the few tables not marked with a heraldry. Kadan and Bast plucked out cutlery for themselves and the Pennys, noting how cheap and out of place their knives and forks were in this world of gilt and finery.
Bast cleared his throat awkwardly as he examined the drinks menu. "Miss, nothing on here has a price..." 
"Our frequent patrons consider open display of prices to be vulgar. Naturally, we are happy to advise you on the costs," she responded with practiced patience. 
"Well, how much is this? The Terran wine... Champ-aging?"
After a slight pause she replied, "Champagne is currently three thousand, four hundred and sixty-six tathl per bottle." 
The reply draped an awkward silence over the table. The low-born visitors looked at each other, or the table; anywhere but at the server. "Give us a minute, yeah?" Kadan asked, and the server stepped away with a flourish of her tail. 
"Fuck!" Bast gasped when he was sure the woman couldn't hear. He covered his eyes to hide the tears of shame. "We shouldn't have come in here." 
"Oh come on, we earned this!" Kadan shot back, as much for himself as Bast. "I fought for the changes we needed to make their new society work! We fought and bled, literally bled for it! I say we've earned this!"
Kadan turned to the shrinking Skal and asked, "What about you? You must feel like you're owed something. What better way to get what's due than this?" 
"What if we get in trouble?" Skal whispered in reply.
"Then it's my hide that gets flayed, so either way you win. What say you? What say all of you?" 
Slowly, glance by glance and smile by smile, the five warmed to the meal once more. When the server returned, Kadan ordered several drinks, butchering the names as he did so, and followed up with a fish dish from a world called Alqurai. The rest of the table joined in with requests for creations from other distant places, and by the time the woman floated away from the table they had rediscovered their good mood, laughing and talking excitedly once more. They almost missed the arrival of a second servant, a Daysider boy whose age marked him as a Penitatas as soon as they were aware of him. He wore the same blindfolds as the serving woman, but none of the jewellery; his only decorations were fingerless gloves of white silk. No-one at the table asked him why he was there, and so it fell to the serving girl to explain. "The boy will attend during your meal. Ask him for anything you require." 
The meal was one they would remember fondly for the rest of their lives. Kadan had eaten fish before, but they were local fish; genetically engineered balls of salty flesh that could never exist in nature. The Alqurain fish was dark sleek like a racing craft, with rich, dark, oily meat clinging to delicate bones and hardy scales. It was served with peppers and spices that gave it an aggressive flavour. He ate it all; flesh, bone and scale. He suspected his betters would have dined solely on the flesh, but Kadan had a street palette and could happily eat almost anything. Still, he gave the eyes to Kas and Yansa as a treat.
Having discovered the piss-coloured wine was in fact extremely drinkable, they turned to more familiar drinks to round out the experience. While waiting for the second course and the next alien beverage, Yansa released a thought she'd been carrying since the morning. "What happens to the Pennys who got spanked today?"
"They go back to the cells and get sold," Bast answered. 
Yansa was appalled, "seriously? They don't get a pardon or a lesser punishment? The men thrown to the mob are off the hook as soon as they escape!" 
"They did lesser crimes," Kas stated as firmly, glancing to his Captain for approval. 
"Well... I just don't like it!" Yansa responded, resorting to an argument befitting her physical age. "You should tell the Lord that it's not fair!"
"Alright, I will," Kadan answered, which threw the little girl completely off balance. "The Lord Vaskal wanted to hear what the commoners think about rejuvenation, so I'm sure he'll be delighted to hear from you." 
"Can..." all eyes turned to the slave boy waiting on them. He immediately froze, lowering his head with a guilty whimper. 
"If you have something to add, let's hear it," Yansa encouraged. 
The boy nodded slightly, "I wish that we... Pennys I mean... I wish we weren't slaves. At least before I would have been free. I mean free in a prison..."
"I think I understand what you're getting at," Kadan said to the boy. "I'll pass that along too." 
The boy smiled, gave a flick of the tail and returned to his proper waiting posture.

After a second round of new dishes and drinks, the five were thoroughly satisfied and made for home. They had barely left the restaurant when Kadan received a message, one whose text quickly sobered him up.
"We're fucked, aren't we?" Bast asked, to which Kadan merely scoffed. 
"Nah, we're going to be getting a private tour of the Palace!" he laughed aloud. "Come on boys and girls, let's show a bit of spine!" Despite his words, by the time they reached the Palace even Kadan was sweating, unable to dismiss the idea he had taken advantage of his patron's generosity. They were ushered not to the library as he expected, but to a large greenhouse that contained a fragrant garden of yellowish grass and blue stemmed flowers.
"Enforcer-Captain," Vaskal said by way of greeting, not acknowledging any of the other guests. He walked stiffly through the garden towards them with one hand held to his side and a slight droop to his ears. 
"Sire, are you alright?"
Kadan's concern was waved away, "Lord Dasat was more capable than I anticipated. Foolish of me to underestimate him, really. Ah well. Did you enjoy your lunch?" 
Kadan shivered, much to Vaskal's amusement, "another mistake of mine for not placing rules or restrictions upon your boon. No matter, you can return the card to my wife. In fact, give it to me, else you may not leave with your tail still attached." 
With the card in hand, Vaskal began to stroll the garden once more, speaking with the assumption Kadan would follow, which he did. "I felt that you should know I was visited by Lady Sin. Remarkable woman. For a whore-house owner she has an astute grasp of how the game is played." 
"What game?" Kadan asked, his anger bubbling up at the mention of Lady Sin. 
"The game of ruling, obviously. She came here to 'remind me of what I already knew,' as she put it. She wasn't wrong." The Lord Governor let out a pained grunt, "I sympathise with your position, Captain. It pains me greatly to know that people like her can twist the system to such dark ends, and I feel confident that preventing such abuse would help the cause greatly. Alas, we cannot." 
Kadan let out a feral growl, "You can't expect me believe that! You made it so rejuvenation was legally considered death, but you can't say that rejuves are children?" 
"No I cannot!" the Lord answered firmly, "It is a problem on many levels, not least of which is the right to a name. You have a reputation, Captain, and if you were to rejuvenate that reputation would carry with you, for better or worse. Legally, it would carry with you. I suppose that it sounds strange to you that a man's reputation must be recognised in law, but this is part of the world I live in. If I were to rejuvenate tomorrow I would lose my position, my wealth and my home... But not my name. I would remain Vaskal, the man who was Lord Governor of Taviksaad and who might be again."
The Lord's limping stroll brought him to a stone bench, which he settled onto with a sigh of relief," if the law was changed as you wish it to be, then I could not be that same man. Whatever stepped out of that machine would be someone else, a stranger who possessed my memories and wore my face. We cannot have that." 
"That's not how it works," Kadan began, but Vaskal's glare silenced him. 
"I I assure you that it is. While I lay healing in bed I read every consideration and justification committed to record by the priests and lawmakers, and this was their conclusion: rejuvenation is not, and cannot be a return to childhood, neither legally nor spiritually."
"So she wins?" Kadan asked, pain lingering on the edge of his voice. 
"Not necessarily. There are other avenues to consider. The most likely to succeed by my estimation is to attempt to grant additional rights to slaves, although that has its own hurdles. Alternatively, we could seek to declare the post-rejuvenation childhood a form of sickness, which may allow us to declare certain practices unlawful. That's an obscure approach, but I have looked into it all the same. I feel confident that this is a matter that needs to be pursued."
"Because the common man doesn't want to see rejuves abused?" Vaskal nodded in reply, "on that note, I hear there's some concern about the public spanking today. People like to see justice done, but there's some concern about their future. Some think they should be let go." 
Vaskal raised an eyebrow, "who exactly - ah, yes. Well remembered. I suppose a pardon is in keeping with the traditions of the day. Hmm... How serious are their crimes? If you judge them to be minor, have them reclassified and let go. For the more serious ones, put some form of mark against their records to show they've suffered a special punishment and are deserving of consideration. Get something in motion, I'll have the Arbiters formalise the exact rules later."
"Yes, sire. I have other suggestions-" 
"In writing, please," Vaskal cut in. "For now, what matters is you understand that nothing has changed. You may rest assured, however, that change is coming. Make that known, Captain. See yourself out."

 Arriving home via the magline, Bast parted ways, volunteering to guide the Medicalos home. Yansa in particular was exhausted and cranky, so Kadan was happy to see her gone.
They returned to the cool, dim, scruffy interior of the residence. It hadn't been cleaned properly for some time, and Kadan resolved to fix that. Skal gave a yawn as the door clicked shut, his mind filled with the promise of a warm bed to nap in. Much to his surprise, he felt Kadan grip his shoulder.
"You have fun today?" Skal nodded up at him in reply. "Thought so, but I don't want you to get too comfortable. I'm going to let you choose - pain, or humiliation?" 
Skal let out a long whine and clutched at his tail. "I... Humiliation," he whimpered, figuring blushes healed quicker than bruises.
"Alright, take off your clothes and stand under the bar."
Skal obeyed, blinking back the tears that formed as he did. Kadan returned holding the defolicator and a roll of gauze. He wrapped the bandage material around Skal's head to make a crude, but functional mock-up of the blindfolds worn by the restaurant slaves. Once deprived of sight, Skal felt the tingling of the defolicator over his backside, removing what little fur had grown back since the first time.
"Not sure this counts as a punishment if you're enjoying it," Kadan said, tapping the defolicator against the chub of flesh poking free of the boy's sheath. "Now help clean this place up." 
Skal nodded urgently, but he did not rush to start cleaning; his master's tone had been unusually soft. "Can't I take a nap? Please?" he asked, testing his luck. 
"Depends on whether you want your friend Sam to see you like that when you visit her tomorrow," The words made Skal blush. "Maybe I should shave your front as well."
"No! I'll help clean!" Skal answered, only to sense Kadan approach and take him gently by the shoulder.
"Go take your nap," he said, chuckling to himself. "You can serve me drinks when I'm done."
Relieved and eager for rest, Skal climbed onto his bed and lay on his back, tail hung loose off the edge. He'd eaten the finest meal of his life, drunk a little wine, vented some of his frustrations and had Sam to look forward to. Spending the evening bare and blind felt hardly like a punishment at all after that.
As content as a Penny could be, he drifted off to sleep.