Summary: It's time for the Game to begin. Part one of my Game series.

Rated M for profanity, violence and some sexual content. There will be some slash content but not X-man on X.

Disclaimer : I do not own the X-men or any of their associated villains, but the Siskans, the Dognan, Jael and the Outkasts are mine. Please do not use them without my permission. Thanks. :)

Notes : This story contains a number of OCs (other characters). No, wait, before you run away screaming – there are X-men in it, but the story is mainly about Kimble, a sentient, living hologram who finds himself among the X-men. This story is his impact on their lives (mostly Gambit's) as he tries to find his place in their world. Bah, you say! Who needs OCs (other characters) anyway! Well, take into consideration that technically any new X-men after Giant Sized #1 could be considered an OC, they are not part of the original team after all. That would include some big names – Kitty Pryde, Gambit, Cable, Bishop, Maggot, Marrow, Psyclocke, all the Gen M kids. Are you getting the idea now? Yes, this story has a few OCs, but I'm asking you to let them pass or fail on their own merits, not because they are not original X-men.

This new series is a sequel to my Kimble series but I've tried to write it so that you don't have to have read the Kimble series first to read this. It's obviously better if you do, but I know how long it is and some of you just might want to skip it. Just be aware that this is slightly AU and some things will be different. This is Kimble- verse if you like. Just the same, those of you who have read Kimble, please be patient as I did spread some recap material around. Just gloss over it if you like. :)

This is an illustrated work as Kimble was and the art should be up soon on my website, you can get to it through my profile page. Art for Finding Angel has been posted if anyone is interested in looking at it.

10-23-13 - As some of you know I have posted a large amount of stories to this site. I've put up a lot of "books." Because I haven't published in a while, I've been away from the site and updates to the site get by me. Normally I used to break up scene changes or perspective changes by putting in a dotted line or a series of symbols to break these up so that you as readers aren't going "what the heck?" when there is a change. Well, it's come to my attention that while the site once let me use that series of symbols, it isn't anymore. Looking back over all my old chapters I'm seeing that those breaks I put in place ages ago are gone and one scene sometimes just rolls into the next, something that is probably confusing to the reader. I will now be using a (break) in between to show these scenes or perspective changes and hopefully you as readers won't be confused by it, now or three years from now. But for those of you reading these older posts, please bear with me while I go through the arduous task of fixing things. SQ

(One)

"I wish I could see the future."

I half open my eyes, blinking out into the twilight. You know, it's nice to have a client here in my bed, it happens so seldom and he was quite magnificent, but the thing is, once they're properly fucked, they should just go to sleep and spare me. Fleshly creatures, what do they know? I'm a Siskan Courtesan, created by men, not by Gods. I say this so you can understand the distinction. Fleshly creatures, whom I call Chuckfet because they disgust me, think that because they were made by a higher power, they are superior to me, a simple construct or hologram. I myself have become quite convinced that the opposite must be true. Never have my kind shown the kind of careless cruelty of the Chuckfet. Never have we tried to take over worlds or enslave others. We are simple and kind, living only to please our clients and be merry. I would be merry as well, if my client would only shut up and go to sleep.

Heh, see the future. What a joke. It's not all it's cracked up to be, let me tell you.

Ever look it up? I have, you know, to help me with my English. I speak so horribly I figured what harm could it do? I was disappointed by what I found. Such a cut and dry explanation for something so powerful and destructive to one's soul.

Precognition. Precogni"tion, n. - knowledge of an event before it occurs.

Cool huh? What a fucking crock. What it really means is waking up drenched in sweat, a choked off scream dying in your mouth. Is it real, this thing I just saw? Or was it just an empty nightmare brought on by stress? I've gone to my Master for advice, but even he has no answers.

"Go back to bed, Dreamer," he says. "Do you want a tonic?"

Sheesh, right. Just dope me out and I'll go away. Typical Master reaction to a troublesome Siskan. And I am troublesome, of that you can be assured. I feel it is my right - being someone's toy shouldn't mean I should just lay quiet until called for. No, he went out of his way to collect me, he can damn well put up with my shit.

But I digress...

"Szleep now," I mumble to my bed partner. It's not my Master, just one of his officers. Guess he must have found some favor with my Master - and with the bottle. I don't usually get chosen unless they are too drunk to realize I'm a man and not one of my sisters. Not that they've ever regretted it afterwards, mind you. I am the best at what I do. "It'sz late, neh?"

"I mean, it would be great to know the lottery numbers before I bought my ticket," he continues to mumble, the inconsiderate bastard. "I'd be so rich, I could buy a Siskan for myself."

I wonder what should insult me more, the fact that he's keeping me up or that he just said that as if I wasn't some kind of fucking slave laying here next to him. I say nothing, I never do. No one will ever accuse me of being some kind of chatterbox. Silent and sullen, that's me. I observe, look and listen. Ever watchful. It's important, you know. I'm not the smartest Siskan ever made, but I have managed to learn one thing with absolute certainty — The future is not set in stone. What we do at any given time affects things later on.

How do I know this? Well that's easy. I'm the Dreamer and I dream every night, I see things. It's not always bad, but the dreams do change. They shift like shadows on your wall if you've got a tree just outside. A calm night, it doesn't move. Get a nice hurricane going and man, it's moving all over the place. I know of hurricanes. I've lived here in my Master's New Orleans palace for a long time now, long enough to have a few of those windstorms bluster through, ripping the shingles off. They scare the piss out of me — I'll never claim to be brave though my sister assures me this is so — I scream and shiver like an old drunk just in detox. It's not the storm that scares me I guess, but the violence of it. Life is like that, calm one day, ripping you apart the next. You have to be so careful, the decisions you make. One wrong move and someone dies.

(break)

Razel sat up on his bunk, hearing a noise. Razel was Jael's number two man - at least, he had been until he had been jailed. Jael was once one of this world's up and coming anti-human terrorists until the X-men came and shut him down. Razel had been languishing in this SHIELD prison cell for seven years, doing not much more than twiddling his thumbs. He had long since given up hope of rescue, it seemed to him that if Jael was going to bust him out he would have done so by now.

Razel was kept in solitary confinement based solely on his affiliation with Jael, the guy hadn't caused any trouble since he had been taken here. Razel was a mutant, his special gift being the ability to teleport himself and passengers if necessary. He was kept constantly collared and watched, but he wasn't much of a threat to anyone beyond his reputation. It was unusual to have any activity on the floor at this late hour, it was well past midnight so he was naturally curious what was going on. Maybe they were bringing in someone new.

Several pairs of footsteps were coming down the hall. Razel was more puzzled still when they came to a stop right at his door.

Razel was kept in a state of the art confinement cell designed for isolation. He had three solid brick walls reinforced with energy shields to keep him in. The fourth wall was primarily a solid steel door with a small window and a trap door for his food and toiletries to be passed through. Razel never left his cell - he had his own private bathroom if you wanted to call it that. It consisted of a toilet, a sink, and a tiled area for him to shower, all of which was left open and in full view of the window in his door.

There was a clang and then something Razel hadn't heard in years, the sound of his door being unlocked. He wasn't happy at that noise, oh not at all. In fact, it terrified him. From the first day he had been incarcerated here the guards had come and taunted him, whispering to him stories of raids being done in the night, where once time and paperwork had long forgotten an inmate such as himself, someone would come in the night and make that disappearance all too permanent. After all, why should SHIELD continue to house and feed a loser such as himself? It's not like he had any visitors or heard from a lawyer in years. Razel figured he had finally been here long enough for such a raid to actually take place.

Razel fled from his bunk and backed away to the rear of his cell, his fists raised. Years of confinement had made him sloppy and weak, he knew he would never be able to defend himself, but wasn't ready to go out without having a say about it. The door opened and he was faced with a group of three men, none of which he recognized as being his guards.

One of them grinned at him. "What's the matter, Raz? Forgot me already?"

The face was slightly different, but Razel knew that voice well enough. It was Terrel Jacobs, someone Jael had recruited just before Razel and the others had been taken. Terrel had been a gangly blonde and blue eyed teenager when he had first been recruited. He was a grown man now and it changed the look of his face. Terrel was a bio-producer of plasma energy and fast on his feet, a natural for the type of work he was currently engaged in - breaking and entering. Terrel and his compatriots were dressed as prison guards and while Razel had no clue how they managed to infiltrate this deeply into SHIELD's security, he didn't much care. Razel came forward in a rush, gasping, "Terrel!"

Terrel reached out as Razel staggered forward and gave him a squeeze. "You didn't think the boss was going to leave you behind forever, did you? You're too good a man to lose."

"Oh, thank God! Where are the others? Marcus and Shakra?"

Terrel grinned, backing away and letting Razel breathe. "Well, that's why we got to you first. We need you to 'port them out."

"I can't do that. I've been collared."

On top of his high security cell, Razel had been fitted with a state of the art restraining collar that would keep him from being able to teleport. It was top notch and he had been wearing it for so long now, he wondered what it would feel like without it. Razel stepped back in surprise when one of Terrel's men came forward and began to examine it.

"Can you remove it?" Terrel asked and the guy nodded, going to work at once.

While Razel would be grateful to be free of the collar, he knew that the collars were most often booby trapped. He had no desire to see his own head blown off. He began to sweat but Terrel just laughed softly, "It's all right, Raz. Mikey's the best. He can unlock anything."

Terrel was right. There was a satisfying click and then the cumbersome weight that Razel had had to bear for nearly seven years was gone. He staggered a bit, feeling dizzy. The collar used an energy field to keep him in place and now that it was gone, it was as if a great leaded weight had been taken off his shoulders.

"Give it try, Raz. Just one little pop."

Razel grinned and in a flash of flight was gone. He reappeared just outside his door causing some excitement from his cell mate across the hall. "Let me out, too!" the man called out, rattling his fists against the door.

"Shall we?" Razel asked his companions, his eyes merry.

Terrel just grinned. "Tonight, buddy? They all come out. Each and every one."

They left as group, freeing the prisoners from Razel's solitary confinement area first and then spreading out. It seemed this little prison break had been in the works for some time. Months, maybe even a year at least, Jael had been sending in his little spies to infiltrate this facility. Tonight, they had struck as one, killing several guards at first to gain position and then, as they freed everyone they could, the real slaughter began.

By the time the first alarm sounded it was too late. Jael had exacted his revenge with zeal, his crew was freeing friend and foe alike, all the most vicious killers and wackos in the place whether they owed him allegiance or not. This merry band of murderers and thieves now worked their way through the prison staff, killing anyone who got in their way.

Razel was busy as well. Terrel had brought with him a series of plans for the prison, giving Razel enough information about the place that he could teleport with ease, freeing who he liked but most especially his two best buds, Shakra and Marcus.

He went for Marcus first. Marcus was a winged wonder not unlike Warren Worthington, but he was also telekinetic making him a powerful ally. Razel wanted Marcus' shields in case they ran into trouble. He found Marcus in a cell very much like his own, the man had been collared as well, but they soon made short work of that. After a brief hello, they were off and running again.

Shakra was another matter. They found her not in a cell, but in a med lab under a medically induced hibernation. Restraining collars were good at keeping people put and controlling energy producers, but for Shakra they had little effect. Her mutation had her covered in prickly purple quills that gave off a powerful neuro-toxin. Just one quill could bring a grown man down to his knees, too many could kill. To keep the SHIELD staff safe from her quills, they chose to keep her under sedation instead of trying to contain her. Razel was angry beyond words to see it. He wasn't in love with her, but they had worked side by side for ages and were as good as brother and sister. Jael could get up on his soap box and say how it would be better for him to rule and how rich he would make them all, but it was the degradation of mutant rights that kept Razel at his side. It was seeing Shakra strapped to a table and helpless that made his rage really burn.

Marcus was upset as well to see what they had done, but he at least could do something about it. By shielding his own skin telekinetically, he was able to free Shakra from her bonds and pull out the all the needles that were feeding her sedatives. They had no time to wait for her to wake, they could already hear approaching sirens, so Marcus pulled her up into his arms and away they went.

They didn't waste any time - they used the bedlam caused by their freed compatriots to their advantage and got out of there as quickly as possible. By then SHIELD was bringing in the heavy artillery to defend itself and they knew a good number of the escapees would be captured, they wanted to make sure they were not among them. Razel was able to teleport them out and away to safety.

Once outside the building, Terrel had more in store for the SHIELD prison. He had collected as many energy producers as he could persuade to follow him and they launched a devastating secondary assault on the prison, sending huge fireballs of plasma to knock down the walls and set fire to the men outside who were trying to stop them. They were not concerned with being safe or not hurting people, they intended to punish and punish they did. Many men died that day, incinerated where they stood. It didn't take them long to wreck the place and make sure it would never be used to house mutants again.

After that, Terrel gathered Jael's newly released upper echelon to him and they left in a flash of light, returning home. Returning to Jael.