Childhood:

Born in a pod with four other males, Jasper was just one conceived by the Queen during a cycle within a century of surprising prosperity. Rarer than the drones, of course, bred in a different manner than the unimaginative creatures even his infant mind had some control over. He grew up in a manner just like other higher-caste males, within a crèche shared with the females, that seemed devoted to encouraging the strengths of their kind at such a tender age – playfighting was perfectly acceptable, and youngsters were often encouraged to rank themselves in order to practise the system of hierarchy they'd pass through. Nothing really marked him out during his toddler years, although he did seem to have a knack for turning up at least once in parts of the Hive he wasn't supposed to have access to.

Ah, those teenage years:

A century passed, and Jasper, like so many others now, was on the cusp of becoming an adult and finally earning the right to wear the black leathers of the male rank he'd been born into. His tuition in science had advanced to the stage where he already had a sound grasp of the ships organic components, and genetic manipulation was also looking to be a speciality of his. His feeding slit had begun to open, but only one trait remained incomplete from his tender years; his hair never really converted fully from black to white. Instead, it remains permanently with black streaks. He doesn't know why, but thankfully considers it to be more of a blessing than anything else. His first hunt, the rite of passage, was almost a disaster in comparison. Skewered with arrows after buckshot peppered his rear end, it took him nearly a week to drag back the husk as proof of his completion of the metamorphosis from youth to adult. He'd gone right into the village, and regrettably got caught for his attempt at winning favour. It had backfired, but still. Donning the leather coat fashioned individually for him, he knelt before his Queen that day and received a touch to the head; a rare gesture, and one he finds peace in to this day.

Learning curve:

For several centuries, Jasper remained considerably low key. He avoided rank fights, obeyed the two primary Commanders and often could be found either assisting the established Hive scientists or undergoing tutoring from the Lieutenants. Free time was spent in a similar fashion, or sparring with his pod-brothers. It was his thirst for knowledge that eventually gave him a break, a niche to exploit. Reading through books confiscated from culled planets, Jasper began to take an interest in their military tactics; why they took such offense to them killing for food, when humans killed for pleasure and mere ideas, was quite silly in his mind. He soon formed an idea for a culling using one of these methods, similar to the earth notion of the wooden horse of troy. Moulding it to be more presentable to the Commander, it was surprisingly given the go-ahead. They'd had little need to worry about how many were culled in recent years, and this would give him a chance to test his mettle. To his own surprise, it was a success! They culled nearly double of what had been expected, and Jasper soon found himself adding little tricks and tips to future feeding ventures even if he didn't step up to take the reins again. Time passed steadily, but something began to itch. Nomadic as the Hive was within their territory, Jasper began to want to roam further and felt that the rest was holding him back. It wasn't necessarily an uncommon trait, but certainly unusual for his age. But this of course was soon turned to the Hives benefit...

My pirate...my assassin...:

He knelt before her, baring the crown of his head with his hands loosely by his sides before rising as the presence of her mind swept over his own. She was the all-encompassing, the fuel of the Hive. She was Queen, but also Mother to him. The former came first always, for she rarely had time to play on maternal instincts with so many relying on her. Then, tilting her head up, she spoke in that soothing gravelly voice he'd heard so often in his mind.

"You want to wander, am I not correct?"

He froze, uncertain of how to respond to this. If he said yes, what would she take it as? A sign he no longer wanted to be part of the Hive? Or worse, no longer a wraith? But lying would be worse, so he swallowed his fear and fought to keep the fearful tremble out of his 700-year old body. He knew full well that she could kill him with very little effort involved.

"Yes, my Queen. I do not wish to leave this Hive, but my mind tells me that more can be seen and discovered if I was allowed to roam."

A pause passed between them, during which she presumably discussed something with his Commander, his superior and her current mate. He remained silent, allowing their minds within his own – while a sign of trust among others, he knew that allowing them to see all was the best way to confirm the truth of what he spoke. Then the Commander addressed him.

"We are in need of someone to infiltrate rival Hives. To sew the seeds of distrust and false promises while planting a bomb within. I can think of no better for the task than you."

Jasper tilted his head a little to the side, confusion on his features even as he registered the amount of trust being placed onto his shoulders for this task.

"Surely that would take centuries?"

His Queen's laugh, mirthless and hard, echoed in the darkly lit, misty-floored chamber.

"Yes."

He felt hurt. Not physically, but emotionally at the idea of being separated for so long from the social structure of his kind. While it would undoubtedly set him on a course for promotion, the idea of being away from this Hive in particular was painful. But, hardening his heart, he lifted his head and nodded.

"I will be honoured to serve my Queen in such a way."

She stood, pacing over with a rustle of material before running a frail, gnarled hand over his jawline.

"My pirate... my assassin..."