(Six)

Krishnak trained with Trask for a week. It was hard and brutal - Trask never held back his blows and was teaching us in the same fashion as the one who had trained him. It mattered not, we were allowed to repair once the session was done and returned the next day unmarked.

We learned to dodge and duck blows, moving faster and faster. There were things that Quishnalay had never told Talalanay about ourselves, things like that we were stronger than the average human. Stronger and faster. These things we learned from Trask by default by wanting to avoid the pain and injury he would inflict on us if we were too slow.

He taught us how to punch and kick, simple things really, but ones that could be refined to mean more. What is a fight but a dance after all? He gave to us the basics, enough that we could start to earn our keep and Grunk was pleased.

There was still more to learn however.

Not all our bouts came against men. The newest fighters were often pitted against lesser intelligent animals. When Trask's job was completed, Grunk moved us onto the next challenge. Once again he brought us to the ring, but this time, instead of Trask, he had another opponent in mind.

Grunk came out of the rear door, holding a great and snarling beast on a leash. This was a punktar, the equivalent of an Earthly dog, only larger and far more savage. "You will fight this beast, Siskan!" he said to us.

Krishnak did not reply, he was confused by the change and did not understand.

Grunk released the hound.

It's a wonder just how much pain a Courtesan can withstand and still survive. It never fails to amaze me. Just when you think the worst is over, here comes something new.

The punktar came at us, teeth slashing. Krishnak was angry from the pain and ended up with two battles to fight - one with the punktar, and another with Kain who was howling to be returned to the helm. Krishnak realized that his hold on the body was tenuous. He had to control his anger or risk letting Kain take us over, possibly for good. He wasn't about to let that happen.

Krishnak struggled at first. He flailed about the ring, screaming and trying to get away from the terrible monster who was trying to get at us. The beast followed, biting at our legs and tripping us. We fell, the slobbering hot breath of the punktar choking us.

"Fight him! Break him down! You are faster and stronger than he is!"

This voice came not from Grunk, but from Father.

Father's voice and his faith in us roused Krishnak's sensibilities and he fought with better skill, using those things that Trask had just taught us. He hit the punktar with his mighty fists and threw his weight against it. It was blind fighting, an action of instinct, and we had more cunning than we realized. One good solid blow and the beast's face was broken. It whimpered in pain and fled but we followed it, grabbing at it and pounding it even more.

The rage came and this time Krishnak let it, allowing Kain to come out and release some of that pent up anger. Kain howled and snarled, he hit and hit the downed punktar until it breathed its last shivery gasp and lay still.

"Good," Grunk said and nodded. "You will do fine."

It wasn't much longer before the Masters thought Krishnak was strong enough to hold his own so they moved him to the pens where the rest of their stable of fighters were kept.

It was not a friendly environment.

The pens consisted of sturdy wooden outbuildings located outside the main caves where the Muzla dwelled. The floor was hard packed earth and there were no beds. Finding a resting place was a matter of claiming a spot on the floor for yourself and defending it. There were windows here, a simple blessing, and fresh outside air. For that we were grateful. It would be the only thing.

Like all societies, there was a pecking order. The rules are simple, -the strongest get the best treatment, the best food, and the better sleeping spots, end of story. There were the proven ones, the ones dominant and powerful enough that they were left alone. There was the second class, those who prowled in small packs, preying on the weaker ones. Then there were those weaker ones, the newest and less trained. They were beaten, pushed down or worse. Woe be it if they were even the least bit pretty.

Krishnak was cursed. No matter what skin you cram a Siskan into we invariably come off as attractive in our way. It didn't take him long to be singled out. Not even the first night there and he got jumped.

Of all the fighters there that Krishnak glimpsed, he was the only Siskan here. The rest were brutal flesh and blood, driven by fleshly desires and a need to lash back at a world that had treated them so harshly. It was full dark, long after the feeding time, and most of the fighters were asleep when they came for him. Krishnak had tried to settle down, having found a small corner in which to pass the night. They came on him almost silently, giving him no time to prepare.

Three pairs of thick and ugly hands grabbed at him, dragging him away from the corner and out into the dim moonlight of the single window. Instantly in terror, the small tiny part of us that was Talalanay cried out for succor, for the Master to come and help us. No one came.

Krishnak tried to defend the body, lashing out with his feet and biting at the hands that held us. It did no good, they were far too powerful for him. They twisted him, crushing him down onto his knees and took him by force. It was noisy and loud, this proceeding, and others awoke. No one helped him, however, they only averted their eyes, thankful it wasn't them this night, or stood still to watch without interfering. There would be no help here, no one to save Krishnak from this terrible indignity.

The rape itself was bad enough, but it's the vibrations that hurt the worst. You know of what I speak, Kimble, how could you not? It seems as though it happens to us all sooner or later. As they forced Krishnak, these stinking Chuckfet gladiators, he could feel their hatred of him come at him like a thousand weapons, a million sharpened daggers. Yes, here was the first time we heard that word –- Chuckfet - it was used by the others as a means to separate themselves from Krishnak, a Siskan. They knew he was different and so they used that word to say they were better than Krishnak was, though that will always be a lie. Krishnak was pretty. He was also stronger than them in that he was Siskan. He could also be repaired and would not suffer an early death like they certainly would here in the arena. He was not destined to die in the blood soaked ground of the that tiny circular battlefield. Funny, you would have thought that death would be a mercy, but deep inside they still wanted to live and to survive. Their anger they directed at us, the one who would not die so easily.

Krishnak screamed and fought his attackers that first night, but they subdued him with their superior numbers and had their fun, one Chuckfet after the other, as they were so proud to say, not ceasing until they had sated themselves of their anger and their disgusting rotten lust. Drowning in the horrible pain and ugly stinking vibrations, Krishnak wasn't even able to grasp even the meager amounts of pleasure like Talalanay used to get from clients. He felt no shivers of joy at being used, he didn't hear their heartbeats or feel their luscious heat. It was just a horrible terrible corruption of the purpose for which we were made. There could be no worse crime.

When it was over, they tossed Krishnak aside like garbage, he was no longer needed. He scrambled away, his gel blood mixed with their semen dripping out of him like pus from a festering wound. As he once more scrunched in the corner, he caught a glimpse of the Masters watching - both of them had been standing by the bars of the cage. They had witnessed the whole thing, their bright Chuckfet shines sparkling brightly with amusement. We were horrified. What kind of Master would enjoy such a thing? We were to learn that it would include most of them.

Remy shuddered and closed his eyes. It wasn't just the pain of having to read this twisted tale of woe and horror, it was Aiden's warped thinking. It always came down to this with Aiden - Us and Them. Chuckfet and Siskan. How different Aiden would be if I'd only found him first, the thief couldn't help himself but think. Time and time again this thought would come to him. He wanted to save them all, these Siskans. He wanted to wrap them up in his arms and tell them it was all going to be okay, that they didn't have to hate anymore and that he would protect and love them all forever. Of course, he couldn't really do that. Not alone anyway, he was only one man. He could only hope that in time, he might finally get a little help in this regard. Until then the best he could do is read and learn as much as he could.

It took some time, but as Krishnak's skill in fighting grew with experience, he eventually learned how to beat off the packs and was left alone. As I said, Quishnalay had kept his secrets, he never told Talalanay that we were so much stronger physically and quicker than our fleshly clients. We learned this on our own - Krishnak and Father formed an alliance and both were quick to learn. Krishnak fought and Father advised, an unbreakable team. Their practice field was the arena and the skills learned there paid off in spades in the pens.

Krishnak claimed a corner spot by the back wall and managed to hold it as his own. It was nice in that corner, having two walls to lean against and for better protection. There was a window there as well, one that looked out into the night. It was looking out into that sky that gave Krishnak the most comfort in his solitude. It was the only thing pretty here and reminded what was left of Talalanay of Siska, our home from far away. We still thought of that place, and when the mood was on us, Sheema would come close and weep her silent tears, her only wish to return to Quishnalay's gardens and lie his arms once more. Krishnak was not weak enough to give in to such desires, he would banish his pesky ghosts from his sight and simply enjoyed the look of the moon and stars so very far away from here.

Another thing that became very clear during our introduction to the pens and the world of real fighting, was that we despised pain. The rapes and the fighting, the big bloody battles, they were an agony for Krishnak. His survivor skills grew to be sure, but not because he desired to be the best at what he did or of any sense of pride, it was the pure pursuit of the avoidance of pain. He don't like to be hit, bruised, bitten, and above all, raped. There is no greater insult to our body, to be used for the sole gratification of another in this way. Funny, heh? That distinction. How very un-Siskan-like of me.

With pain, came a great anger, one that could be scarcely controlled. The more pain we received, the angrier we got. With that anger came a brutality biblical in scale. Kain would at times pop out in the ring and reap his own havoc. The temper tantrums he threw were spectacular and most often fatal to the recipient. Our Masters loved Krishnak because it wasn't often that he lost a fight. A deadly conclusion was not the goal of our battles - a simple defeat would suffice - but in Krishnak's case, he more often allowed Kain some control, enough to beat our opponents to death for hurting us rather than letting them walk away merely damaged. Those that managed to survive did not always fare well enough to fight again and were sometimes destroyed by their Masters for being so useless.

In the pens at night, it became harder and harder for the packs to restrain Krishnak and soon enough the prize was not worth the pain it took to get it. They really started to back off when they became so injured, some of them were not strong enough to survive their arena bouts the next day. When it came down to survival, there was much easier prey as the Masters were adding to the stable all the time.

Krishnak watched as they were added, these tender new fighters, and did nothing to stop the packs that preyed on them. No one had done so for him, so why should he care? In fact, he had grown to care nothing for anyone but himself. Our survival was his only priority and the fate of anyone else was beyond his notion. He didn't help the new ones, nor did he trouble them. If one should try to beg him for protection, Krishnak simply ignored them. He had enough to worry about with his gaggle of ghosts following him around, what use did he have for another voice in the choir? No, Krishnak fought his fights, came home to rest, ate his meager food and then slept or looked out of his precious window. That was the extent of our life.

That would soon change of course. It always does.

Remy stopped here, his eyes burning from reading. He wasn't used to so much computer reading and it tired him. He found the story engaging and instructive none the less. He couldn't wait for tomorrow when the construction of Seth's new ship would begin. Again, he wanted to look on Aiden with his own eyes and try to equate the man he knew with one he was reading about. He still had many questions but they would have to wait.

(break)

Down below, Charles Xavier was once more facing an envelope on his desk that's origin wasn't in doubt. Jael favored the same stationary and his penmanship was excellent. Charles sighed and slid out the single page of notepaper. The message came as no surprise.

Dearest Charles,

Greetings to you and all your X-men. I hope this finds you in the best of health. I am most sorry about demolishing your schools, but you must understand that I did give you plenty of time to comply with my demands. You chose to ignore me and so I was forced to punish you. You now hopefully recognize that I am a force to be reckoned with and will not be denied. Turn over all of your Siskans at once and further bloodshed can be avoided. If not, you will witness the extent of my wrath. If you think that destroying two half empty schools is the limit of my power you will be sadly mistaken.

Yours truly,

Jael

"What are you going to do?"

Charles looked up into the eyes of Scott Summers, his second in command. Scott had read the note over his shoulder and didn't look any more pleased about it than he did himself. "I'm not sure. At least we got a confirmation of who it was that struck us."

"You aren't going to turn the Siskans over are you?"

"Of course not. That is the one thing I do know. We will have to increase our defenses and warn our allies, though I suspect most of them are aware that they may come under fire, guilty by association. I want increased perimeter patrols and training sessions, including first aid and rescue."

Scott nodded. "It will be done. We have plenty of new recruits coming in. Even though the schools were damaged, we still have people arriving there looking for help. We have some trailers set up there to help out."

"Good. No one gets left behind."

"And Jael? You have a response for him?"

"If I thought it would do me any good I'd send him a copy of my latest lecture on ethics and the sanctity of life."

Scott chuckled a bit at the Professor's joke, even though the tone was still quite serious. "I'm sure there are some extras lying around we can send him."

"Seriously. Again I will not dignify this man's threats with a response, not just yet. I just want to be ready the next time he comes."

"Why don't we just go after him? We could send out some patrols and spies. Someone has to know where he is."

"That would be fine if we knew he would leave us alone in the meantime. I don't dare pull my senior people out of here. We will need them all to defend ourselves. I won't make the mistake of leaving this place undefended."

Scott nodded, knowing that some of that was guilt for leaving the two schools open for attack. It would be some time before Charles forgave himself for those who had died. "You think he will find us here?"

"Oh yes, I most certainly do. And I plan on being ready for him, when he does."

(break)

The subject of Charles' thoughts was too busy at the moment to be thinking of Charles, however, he was watching his press coverage on the television.

"Stupid humans," Jael grumbled in amusement, shaking his head.

He was lying expansively over his huge bed, Star sprawled out beside him. She was out cold from another vigorous bout of lovemaking, but he was anything but tired. He had clicked on the news and was frankly amazed by what the human response to his little party had been.

There had been a lot of news coverage of the strikes against the Xavier Institute. Instead of sympathy for the mutant leader's bad luck, all the humans wanted was more blood. They were pissing and moaning about being caught in the middle of all the mutant squabbling. Coupled with Jael's earlier strike against New York, people wanted blood. Mutant blood in particular.

The President was being forced to respond. He was giving a speech, addressing the nation in his most gravest voice. "My fellow Americans, the time has come to deal with this threat. No longer can we afford to sit quietly by while innocent human lives are crushed by those mutants who feel they must terrorize our nation to be heard. It is with a heavy heart that I say we must pass new laws, the Mutant Registration Act specifically."

Jael's belly shook with gruff laughter. He knew what was going to happen now. No one was about to take this lying down, mutant factions were going to rise up and protest. It might even come down to a contest, who could make the bloodiest point. He thought he might be up to that.

Jael clicked his intercom, buzzing for Razel.

The teleporter was prompt in his response. "Yes, my Lord?"

"Get me the Captains of the Crusader and Hellion," Jael ordered a grin on his lion's face. "I have a side job for them to do."

"What of Xavier, my Lord? With all your ships in place, it would be nothing to take them down once we finally locate him."

With Tranan taken care of, Jael had gathered his four great Command ships back to the Arizona desert, not far from the Industrial Complex where Charles had purchased his great building. Jael was still uncertain how many – or if any - of these buildings Charles might own. The tracking devices that had been implanted in Sabretooth had only suggested this location, they hadn't confirmed it exactly. This Industrial Park was huge, there were several possibilities where Xavier could be hiding, and Jael didn't want to blow the element of surprise by attacking the wrong one. He would wait to launch until he was absolutely sure of where to attack before he did anything. He felt he had the time to wait, he was more powerful now than ever before.

Jael's four Command ships – the Cloud Jumper, the Hellion, the Crusader, and the Mayfair – were fully staffed and now waiting for orders. Jael's men had "acquired" three of these great ships from his attack on Trishnar's palace, as well as confiscating some of Trishnar's pilots and Dognan officers to run them. While these men were still being held against their will, Jael had seen to it that they were sufficiently cowed by fear enough to obey his every order. They would happily kill for him to save their own skins.

Jael's plan hadn't changed. He was going to make Xavier turn over his Siskans or else. The attack on the Westchester and Massachusetts Academies hadn't brought immediate results. Perhaps he could up the ante a little bit. If he couldn't sniff Xavier out on his own, perhaps he could acquire some help in the matter. He could accomplish that and at the same time, show this President what a real show of power was.

Jael was quick to reassure his Second in Command that everything was still proceeding as planned. "Fear not, Razel. I will finish this in my own time. I just feel compelled to respond to this ridiculous American President. You know Butch Madison will and I won't have that little freak upstaging me."

"Of course, my Lord. I'll have the captains call you at once."

Jael clicked off, his hand shifting to gently pet the sleeping Siskan beside him. This was going to be such fun.

On the screen the President was sealing his own doom, spouting lies no sensible mutant would believe. "I want to assure all people that this Registration Act in no way means that we plan to incarcerate anyone. There will be no arrests, no camps. We simply need to know what is out there and set up a database for all mutant offenders to better assist SHIELD in protecting our nation."

SHIELD? Jael thought to himself. He'd had more than one associate imprisoned by those fools in black. Maybe he would up the stakes and show Fury himself just how pathetic and weak he was. Oh, yes. Fury was definitely on the list.

Star stirred restlessly, her empathic body picking up on her Master's vibrations of evil intent. Just the thought of those strikes was making him hard, he would want her again. She was so afraid of him now, all he thought about was killing and blowing things up. She knew the Game had to be played for her to escape her current plight, but she was frightened by all the violence around her. She didn't like her Master's vibrations, they hurt her and made her sick. If only this Game would end. If only someone would come to her rescue.

To be continued in Growing Pains