(Four)

Jael's small team of thugs materialized in the short hallway of their lair, grouping together for safety. Razel was there with Shakra and Marcus. Only two others besides them had made it back with them, all newbies that had been picked for this caper, hoping to build their experience as terrorists. Looked like it was a bust. Of the two that made it back, one had been injured and Razel had taken him to the infirmary first. Only one remained with them and he was complaining already.

"What are we going to tell Jael! He's going to kill us!" Timothy was wailing. He had only been with Jael a couple of months and was fearful of being in bad favor with the boss. He had gotten his ass handed to him quite nicely by Rogue and he was still a bit embarrassed by it.

"We tell him the truth and suck it up," Razel replied. "You can't hide things from him. It just makes things worse."

His jail time not withstanding, Razel had been with Jael a long time. He knew that Jael could be forgiving if the excuse was satisfactory. He believed that Remy had done something, had used a kind of charm power against them. The fact that the thief was speaking with the Siskan like he had led Razel to believe perhaps his power might be the same as hers. He knew the Master's Siskans had power, it was why it was so great to use them when the Master was feeling generous enough to share them.

"Come on," Marcus said. "Let's get Cheeree here back to the harem."

Cheeree, the Siskan hologram that had been dragged along for this trip, wasn't happy. She had done her best to get a warning out to the Gifted One, but she doubted he even understood what she had said. Jael had many spies, some devoted exclusively to Xavier's camp. As information was gathered, some of it trickled back to Jael's harem of Siskans. Word had come of an alpha who had been "touched" by a Siskan in his care and given the Kundatesh. This had happened before, but it was very rare. It was a sign of a close bond, of a human who looked at a 'gram and saw their soul. This alpha was supposedly very handsome and had bright red eyes like a demon. The description had been apt, he had been lovely — at least until Marcus had beaten him. Then the whole thing had turned very ugly indeed.

Things had been ugly here, too. Jael had grown bored and annoyed with such a large harem of Siskans. Courtesans needed constant attention, something he just didn't have the time for. He shared them, but only with a select few, he was jealous of his Siskans as well. Poor Cheeree had watched in horror as some of her brothers were taken away, never to return. Jael was open sexually as all the Dognan were, but generally preferred his partners to be female. All the Siskan 'grams that weren't so eager to please him had been removed - permanently, if the rumors were true. Jael had gone from eleven Courtesans down to three. Jael was keeping only his favorites. Those that were left lived in an almost constant state of terror, stumbling over themselves to please the Master when he came.

Cheeree was afraid. Of the three that were left, she was the only one that had found her angel. That meant her value was significantly less than the others. Each Courtesan of the game was fated to find an object, something they called an Angel. While Kimble had found an Angel in the flesh, Cheeree had found a series of clasps, ones that looked innocent enough, but they bound together other angels that previous Siskans had found. Those Angels that were objects and not living were taken by the Courtesan's Mastersand incorporated into a machine called a Shalayesk. The more Angels placed into the machine, the more powerful a player each Master became, which was the point of the Game. It was a glorified scavenger hunt with the winner becoming the most powerful. Oh, how proud the Master had been of Cheeree, he took her clasps and now they were part of the machine he was building. Since then he came to her less often, devoting his time to her sisters. Their Angels were as yet unfound.

Cheeree wanted to be freed from her enslavement to Jael. It was the only way to ensure her survival and that of her sisters. She prayed hard to the Great Spirits every day, pleading with them to let the Gifted One win the Game. Even as he lay there befuddled and in pain, she could see his radiant shine. It spoke of his great heart, of his kindness...of the fact that he saw her as a real thing. His Kundatesh voice had spoken to hers, saying how this was so. How she prayed for a Master such as this! All her life she had been passed from one Master to another, always a possession, nothing more. She desired so much more than that, all Siskan Courtesans did, but so far, it had not come to pass.

Cheeree spoke of none of her woes as she was tugged along down the hallways back to the harem. She hated to be away from her sisters, but mostly, she hated it out here. She disliked Jael's lair. It was a true lair in an animal sense. Jael favored cave like structures and if he couldn't find them already made, created them himself. This lair was currently located under a small island out in New York harbor. The entrance was hidden by trees, the rest was all underground and hidden from view. Jael had a team of mutant excavators build this place for him. It was an elaborate system of caves that covered almost one square mile under the harbor itself. There was even a special hanger that had been made for Jael's ships - he could launch from the harbor floor and with the cloaking devices he possessed, never be seen at all.

SHIELD in reality couldn't even come close to wiping him out. Jael had been busy all these years, building and consolidating his power. He had three such installations in America and several more worldwide. All the world saw was a mad bomber, but Jael was so much more than that. He was simply biding his time until it was the best time to strike. Jael was a patient man, he wouldn't be where he was if he hadn't been.

"Ughh! What stinks!" Timothy whined again.

"It's Grog. That sick freak," Razel replied with a sneer.

They had come to an isolated area of Jael's lair. Nearby was an opening in the cave wall, revealing a large cave room, much like a lion's den. The opening was barred in, creating a large cage. Inside this cage a creature dwelled, a mutant crazed beyond reckoning. This was Timothy's first trip by here and he wasn't careful. He was much too close to the bars as they passed and quick as a wink, he was grabbed.

Timothy squealed in shock and surprise as he was slammed up against the bars, a filthy, slender arm around his throat. Jagged claws scratched at him and then he was being licked, his blood filling the mouth of another. He flailed wildly, frantic to get free. His power was meaningless here, he was simply well above average in dexterity and agility, a natural gymnast. He was skilled in hand to hand fighting and had dead on accuracy with throwing weapons. None of that would help him now. Grog had him twisted up against the bars in such a way that he had no leverage. That and the monster was brutally strong.

"Sheehee. Tasty bits, yesss," a sharp feral voice hissed in his ear. "Mrr! Eat you!"

Timothy screamed in terror and proceeded to wet his pants, the only part of his body that was functioning normally. He was very young, still a teenager, and had never been this close to certain death, not even back at the factory with Wolverine. There was no escape here however, the hot breath in his ear and the raspy tongue at his neck pretty much confirmed that.

"Let him go, Grog!" Razel ordered, coming closer. "Drop him or Shakra drops you. Your healing factor won't stop her from putting you down, fucker!"

"Tit for tat! Trade me! Mrr!"

Razel grumbled and went to a small cabinet next to the cage area. Here Jael kept Grog's treats. Grog was a mutant like any other here, but he was kept more like a pet. In actuality, he was Jael's personal garbage disposal. If Jael wanted someone gone, he tossed them in here and watched the show. Grog would hunt them down and feast on flesh as human as his own. He was a small blonde monstrosity, a viscious cannibal kept for his amusement value. Jael just loved to watch, he was such a fool for this sick shit. Razel opened the cabinet, revealing a fish tank filled with large white rats. He pulled one out by its tail, unable to hide his disgust as it dangled uselessly from his fingers. "Here you go, ugly! Let Tim go!"

Grog released his prey, shoving him out into the hall. He danced now along the bars of his cage, his blue eyes eager for the hunt. He was naked as the animal he was, his hair long and filthy as it hung down from his head. He had a long beard, something as civilized as shaving had been lost to him long ago. Once a week a crew came here and hosed out his cell, that was the closest he came to being washed. It had been a while, the floor of the cell was littered with bones and shreds of clothing, small bits were tangled in his hair. He was filthy and as hideous as his quarters, a human monster.

"Mine!" he snarled and reached out greedily for the rat, showing surprisingly heathy teeth for a creature as dirty as he was. It was a sign of his healing factor. Like Wolverine, he could heal rapidly from any injury and his food would never turn his stomach, no matter how rancid.

"Ha! Like I would reward you for being such a fuck up!" Razel sneered. He turned his back on Grog and replaced the rat back in the tank. It would live to see another day.

"Nnnoo!" Grog howled, throwing himself against the bars of his cage, his evil face made even more so as it was contorted with rage. He thrust his hands through the bars and clawed out at the teleporter. "Mines! Mines!"

"You asked for it, here you go!" Shakra replied, letting fly with her poisonous quills.

Grog shrieked in angry frustration as he was pricked. He was still complaining even as he hit the floor. Her neuro-toxins would put him down, but his healing factor would keep him awake. It was more of a disability than an asset here. Her poison made it difficult to breathe. He would be here for the next ten minutes, wheezing for air while she walked away, laughing.

Cheeree shuddered and sobbed, the whole thing a sick nightmare for her. She had an aversion to violence as did most Siskan Courtesans and the sight of Grog and the rasp of his voice terrified her. She wasn't allowed to flee, Marcus held her tightly, whispering soft comforts in her ear. She knew he didn't really mean them, his body was vibrating lust, not real concern. He was hoping Jael would let him use her tonight and didn't want her to be too stressed out to do for him properly.

Timothy was dusted off and the group went on their way. The first men's room they passed had them leaving Timothy behind. He was embarrassed that he'd soiled himself although no one gave him any shit about it. The truth was, Grog made most of them uneasy and they had all been thinking that it was better him than themselves. He mumbled an excuse and disappeared, looking for an escape. He didn't want Jael to see him this way.

Cheeree was delivered to the harem room and left behind as well. The harem room was another large cave like Grog's, only this was finely furnished with elaborate beds and love tables, all designed for the pleasure of the users that came here. Everything was expensive silk and satin, all red and lovely as the creatures who resided within. Cheeree was greeted warmly by her Courtesan sisters and put immediately to work. There were clients here, mutants that Jael had given favor to this evening. Cheeree would have to wait to tell her sisters of her adventures, she wouldn't speak of it in front the clients.

"Thank God that's over," Shakra said. She had been the most disappointed at Jael's decision to destroy the other Siskans. Two of them had been splendid males and she'd used them often. As Siskans and not being organic, her poisons didn't affect them at all and they were free to touch and to please. Now they were gone and she hadn't been impressed with the ones who were left. They could shift skins to the male, but were still much too feminine for her tastes.

"Poor Shakra. You're all left out," Razel playfully teased. He'd known about her disappointment and teased her about it often.

"Go fuck yourself, Raz!" she snapped irritably.

Marcus came to her, sliding his hands around her waist. "Don't fret, dear. There's always little old me if you like."

Marcus' ability to create protective shields would work in his favor, she knew this, but he was far too arrogant and in love with himself for him to be attractive to her. She liked her men a little more submissive and eager to please. She grinned at him evilly. "You know what they say about big men with big wings? In your case, it isn't true. I need a little more than you can provide."

"Cunt!" Marcus snarled and gave her a shove.

"C'mon, you guys. Let's get this over with," Razel complained, gesturing to the throne room. They were very near Jael now and he wanted to finish this.

The others quieted and they approached the throne room with much nervousness and trepidation. They would let Razel do the talking, he knew best how to say things in such a way that Jael would be more forgiving and willing to be lenient.

The throne room was a massive cave, the largest here in the lair. It was aptly named, at the back was a huge wooden throne covered in soft furs. More skins were piled up on the floor all around with pillows, Jael would hold audiences in here, but wanted his visitors to be seated lower than himself - Jael was an arrogant man. The walls were covered with fine cloth tapestries depicting dragons and war scenes, giving the room a regal air. Beside the throne on the floor was a large silver broadsword. Jael was a warrior and knew his weapons well. He was seldom found without one near.

The man himself was seated on his throne, a creature more lion than human. He was a half human, half Dognan prince, large and powerful. He was easily three hundred pounds of solid muscle and fur. He was always warm and so dressed lightly, today he was wearing a fine white sarong with a cloth drape down the front. His body fur thinned out over his chest and arms, showing large elaborate tattoos. He'd been born and raised on Cerise - a planet where the Dognan had once ruled.

The Dognan were a race of men that looked like lions and were fierce and warlike. They roamed from planet to planet, conquering worlds and reaping their vast resources. His father was a Dognan King who had a sexual weakness for the flesh of his human slaves, his pilots in particular. Pilots were humans that had been forcibly mutated into the shape that Kimble now possessed - white skin, wings, and the crooked hind legs of a cat, little white Dognan wannabes. They were called pilots because their mutation had made them telekinetic and the producers of bio-kinetic energy called Ristle. They were placed in the finest Dognan ships and were living batteries, fuel sources for the great Dognan engines. Their telekinetic ability made them controllers of the flight, they were integral to the ships and the Dognan couldn't fly without them. Put enough pilots together, and they could produce a burst of Ristle energy strong enough to jump dimensions, allowing the Dognan access to many worlds. All real pilots were female and so was Jael's mother.

Jael's father was later murdered and his pregnant mother escaped to live with the Clan, a race of ex-Dognan slaves who had escaped and formed their own society. Not all the Dognan slaves were pilots, most were simply humans who had been given enhanced strength and longevity.

Jael thrived in this new environment with the Clan. He had proven himself there and rose in the ranks, but was refused its highest post — First General — because of his Dognan blood. Enraged, he left there, stealing some of the Clan's finest pilots. He used them to jump dimensions to this world. He'd heard that this was the place where the alphas came from and saw an opportunity. Perhaps if he gathered enough of them into an army, he could take over this world as the Clan had Cerise. He would then be better than any First General. He would be King.

Jael now regarded his returning minions as they entered his Throne Room. He was silent as they approached, waiting until they were properly seated before beginning. He was pleased with this particular crew even though he had already guessed the news wasn't good. These three had been in his employ since he had first come here to this planet and rarely failed him, he wouldn't have bothered to get them out of prison if they weren't worth the trouble. They were his best men, Shakra included, and he was eager for what they had to say.

"Did you succeed?"

"No, my lord. They were too powerful," Razel answered, trying not to cringe in fright. He knew his status here might protect him, but the last thing he wanted was to argue with his boss. Jael was large and intimidating, regal and not to be toyed with.

"Explain."

Razel rose to his feet, comforted by the fact that Jael hadn't gone off. He relaxed and gave his Master a slow and careful explanation of that night's events, sparing no details. He spoke of his belief that Remy had used some kind of empathy to drive Wolverine insane. It had been an effective attack and three of their comrades had been slaughtered. Razel was hoping that since they hadn't been briefed on this unexpected new capability of Gambit's, Jael might be forgiving.

"Hmm," Jael grumbled, rubbing his chin with one brown, clawed hand. His head was massive and fully Dognan in its lion like features. His eyes were those of a cat, green and twinkling with intelligence. "I'd been told he had been affected by his Siskan this way. I had no idea he was that capable with it."

"We did our best, my Lord," Razel said, inwardly hopeful. "If we could gather a larger group of men..."

"Won't be good enough," Jael replied. "Another tactic might be in order."

"My Lord?" Razel asked, but he could see Jael was lost in thought. This was a good sign. If Jael was going to flip out, he would have done it already.

"Leave me," Jael ordered, wanting only to be alone. "Play with the Siskans if you want. Your failure will be excused...this time."

"Thank you, my Lord," Razel said with a bow and fled, taking the others with him before the man on the throne could change his mind.

Jael watched them go, smiling. He appreciated Razel's fear, it meant his authority was still firmly in place. Now, to the task at hand.

He had been trying to get his paws on Kimble for years now and wasn't succeeding. He hadn't been giving Kimble his full attention, that was true, not while he had been so busy building his power base. It was time to rectify that. Kimble bore a purple Mark, he was more valuable than any of the Siskans Jael currently possessed, even the two without Angels. Jael had first thought it would be better for him to acquire Kimble before jumping into the Game more fully. The problem was, the Xavier mansion was too well defended. All attempts to snatch Kimble from there had ended in embarrassment.

He simply didn't possess enough firepower.

Clearly what he needed to do was move on to the next step of the Game and deal with Kimble later. The further into the Game he played and the more Siskans he acquired, the more powerful he would become. Sheba, his next opponent in the Game, was very close by. In fact she had even sent him a personal challenge – she was coming here to fight him. All the better. He would defeat her easily, he believed. He would defeat her and with her Siskans finally be able to begin seriously building his Shalayesk machine. This machine was the product of all the angels he had collected from his Marked Siskans over the years - the point of collecting all those pesky creatures - and also the point of the Game. Once his machine was built, he would deal with those pesky X-men and steal Kimble once and for all.