“Commander Sylvan? There is a warrior here to see you. A Reeve J’lorn? He says you…called for him.”
Sylvan couldn’t help but hear the note of distaste in the communications officer’s voice. No doubt the male had recognized his guest for what he was—an M-Switch Kindred—what some called a “Snatcher.”
Sylvan had good reason to invite the M-Switcher here so he kept his own voice neutral when he spoke.
“Very well. Allow him entrance, please.”
There was a muttered grumble of complaint—most unprofessional, Sylvan would have to speak to the officer—and then a tall, dark form filled his office doorway.
Reeve J’lorn had trouble written all over him, from his pitch-black hair and matching eyes to the slouching, cat-like way he moved. His cinnamon-brown skin was marked by a scar over the bridge of his hawk-like nose and his lips were a thin ribbon of sardonic scarlet.
Instead of a jewel-toned uniform shirt like other Kindred wore, J’lorn had on a black leather duster which fell to his boots and tight black leather trousers to match. Twin blasters were strapped over his lean hips and Sylvan was betting he had other weapons—many more—hidden from view. He looked like what he was—a pirate and not one who would be content with just stealing your valuables.
No, Reeve J’lorn would happily hijack your body too—which was exactly why Sylvan needed him.
As an M-Switch Kindred, he was one of the rare Switch Kindred who, instead of switching bodies with his mate, was only able to jump into the body of another male and take over his life for a time.
This ability had earned the M-Switchers the derisive nickname “body-snatchers” which was shortened to just “snatchers” after a time. They were reviled and avoided by the rest of the Kindred community, much as the Touch Kindred had once been because of their singular ability to use their Touch Sense to touch others without using their physical hands. But Sylvan had known several honorable Touch Kindred and he was betting that not all the “snatchers” were beyond redemption either.
At least, he hoped not.
“Commander Sylvan.” The pirate regarded him through narrowed black eyes that burned with curiosity. He held out his hands, as though offering himself. “Well—here I am. What do you want?”
“Reeve J’lorn.” Sylvan nodded at him. “Thank you for coming. I wasn’t sure you would.”
“I’m surprised you called me.” Reeve sauntered into his office. “Hell, I’m surprised you trust me aboard your precious Mother Ship. A dirty snatcher like me.”
“I think you can be trusted not to ‘snatch’ anyone illegally while aboard the Mother Ship,” Sylvan said dryly. “Especially since I’m going to be offering you such a lucrative way to use your Goddess-given talent legally.”
“Talent?” Reeve barked a laugh. “There’s some—including my own Switch Kindred brethren, what few there are left of them—who would call it a curse.”
“Nevertheless,” Sylvan said steadily. “I do not believe that the Goddess gives gifts without reason. I would never call any ability of hers a ‘curse.”
“And what do you want with my ‘gift’ Commander?” Reeve J’lorn raised a sardonic eyebrow at him. “You have a political rival aboard the ship you want me to snatch? I can take over his body and have him do anything you want—I can ruin his reputation, bankrupt his finances, find out his secrets so you can use them against him—whatever you want.”
“I’m afraid the Mother Ship isn’t quite the hotbed of corruption and intrigue you seem to think it is,” Sylvan said dryly. “I do not need you to ‘snatch’ anyone here.”
Reeve’s face darkened.
“If you’re looking to have me snatch the body of a romantic rival and ruin his relationship, I don’t do that. I draw the line at fucking around with other male’s mates. The Goddess might send me straight to the Seven Hells for my sins once I die but that’s not one of them.”
“I am happily mated and I would never ask you to destroy another male’s mating,” Sylvan said, frowning. “Those who the Goddess brings together must not be separated.”
Reeve’s face cleared. “Okay, good. So what’s the job?”
Sylvan sighed and rose from behind his desk.
“Have you ever heard of a world called Hascion Five?”
Reeve frowned. “No, why? Should I?”
“Everyone in the known universe is going to hear from them soon if we don’t do something to stop it,” Sylvan said grimly. “And not in a good way.”
“Explain.” The pirate leaned against Sylvan’s desk, leather duster creaking as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.
Sylvan sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
“As you know, as genetic traders, we Kindred are always on the lookout for new species to trade with. Sometimes we find a people who are a fit for us genetically but there are…other objections to making a trade.”
“Other objections?” Reeve raised an eyebrow again.
“In the case of the Hascions it’s their extremely warlike attitude and the way they treat their females,” Sylvan said. “Our immediate concern right now is that they have developed weapons of mass destruction and will be happy to use them to subjugate other planets if they can.”
Reeve frowned. “And you know this how?”
“We sent a few spies there when we were evaluating if they would be a good match for a trade,” Sylvan said. “The Hascion males aren’t much smaller than we are and with a few facial modifications, I had some officers who were able to pass easily enough among them.”
Reeve lifted his hands. “Then what do you need me for?”
Sylvan ran a hand through his hair.
“There are places only a few high ranking, elite officers are allowed to go.”
“I see.” Reeve nodded. “So you need me to snatch one of them—these elite officers.”
“Essentially, yes,” Sylvan admitted. “We have reason to believe that the Hascions are working on wormhole technology that would enable them to fold space, much like we do using the power of our green sun.”
“And if they can fold space, they can drop their nasty little bombs or whatever it is they’ve cooked up, all over the fucking place.” The pirate nodded. “I get it.”
“Once they escape the confines of interstellar distance, they’re going to be a big problem,” Sylvan told him. “The High Council has debated it and though we usually don’t like to meddle with other cultures, we have decided it’s better to keep them confined to their own planet. That way they can’t spread like a plague to the other known worlds in the universe.”
“Sounds like a truly noble cause, oh fearless leader.” Reeve put one hand over his heart and his dark pirate’s face suddenly turned soulful. “I’d be pleased to help you out with this little problem…for a price.”
Sylvan sighed. “I expected nothing less. You will, of course, be well compensated.”
“So who do you want me to snatch?” Reeve asked, looking interested. “I have to warn you—there are limits to how long I can take over a body. So whatever you need me to do has to be done pretty quickly.”
Sylvan frowned.
“I was hoping to have you on Hascion Five for several days, at least. It will take that long to get into the inner war room and find the wormhole plans. Once you get to them, it’s vital you destroy all of them, including any prototypes they might have built, if possible.”
Reeve looked doubtful.
“That’s going to be difficult. The host of the body I snatch will fight me every step of the way. And anyway, even if I destroy their plans, why can’t they just start from scratch and do it all again?”
“We have reason to believe they have been working on this technology for years and the most important scientist—a Doctor VanProkk—recently died,” Sylvan explained. “Without his expertise, it’s highly doubtful whether the Hascions will ever be able to approach wormhole technology again.”
“Sounds good. Still…” Reeve frowned. “The usual limit for a snatch is two hours—three max. I don’t see how I can last several solar days in an alien host—especially one who’s fighting me every step of the way.”
“We hope to have a solution for you, there,” Sylvan said carefully. “You see, the host we’re thinking of having you, er, snatch, is a highly placed general in the Hascion army who was recently wounded in battle. He is currently in a coma at one of their medical care facilities.” He cocked an eyebrow at the pirate. “Does that help?”
“Having the host completely unconscious while I take over?” Reeve looked thoughtful. “I’ve never tried it that way but yes—I think it could help. Would be nice not to have the bastard I was trying to take over fighting me every step of the way for once. I could really concentrate on getting the job done.”
“Good.” Sylvan nodded. “The subject we want you to take over—the host as you call him—is General Harryx Parokk. We’ve been tracking him for some time and we believe you can get the clearance to see the wormhole research using his credentials. He’s not directly involved in it so it might be a little tricky—that’s the reason we believe it will take several days rather than just a few hours.”
“I can do it.” Reeve nodded with easy confidence. “Provided you take care of my body for me while I’m gone. I’ll need a vitamin supplement and fluid drip to keep me healthy and a safe place to crash.” He frowned. “I don’t want anything happening to me while I do this.”
“You have my word your body will be safely kept and nourished while you undertake this mission.” Sylvan held out his arm for a warrior’s clasp. “And thank you, Reeve J’lorn. Perhaps this could be the beginning of a new understanding between the mainstream branches of the Kindred and the M-Switchers.”
Reeve’s grin flashed white in his dark face.
“Oh, I wouldn’t count on it, Commander.” His tone was light but his words were bitter. “Everybody loves to hate a snatcher.”
“We’ll see.” Sylvan continued to hold out his arm. “Will you shake on our bargain?”
“Sure. As long as you know that I also require an airtight contract,” Reeve said, holding out his own arm at last. “I don’t like leaving anything to chance.”
“A good trait to have,” Sylvan said, clasping with him at last. “Nor do I. We’ll have the contract drawn up at once and get you as much personal information as we can on the General so you can interact smoothly with his counterparts and coworkers.”
“Agreed.” Reeve nodded. “Don’t worry, Commander Sylvan. Those fucking Hascions won’t know what hit them.”