Sighing, the woman ran her fingers through her raven black hair as she thought on what she had just read up on. Lately, it felt as if there was more and more things to research and she wasn't getting anywhere far enough. Too many questions that demanded her attention, and no ways of discovering the ever-exclusive answers. Times like these, she wished she had a certain Agent on hand, one who had proven so willing; it was just a pity she had yet to see the girl again.

No matter. Science would march on, as it must. There was no holding back progress, after all. It would simply find another way. It was just a shame that there wasn't more people like the Agent. As far as she was concerned... Life, all life, was in the service of life.

It was ridiculous that she had to go to some far-off world, well beyond the reaches of the Alien Defense Directorate, far too distant for the meddlesome hands of any other intergalactic policing force. Ridiculous that she had to go to such lengths just to find potential subjects to test on. Ridiculous that she had to put on numerous projects on hold due to the lack of specimen. There had to be a better way to procure more for her research. Though, she knew that she should be thankful that the project on her Harvesters were proceeding well enough, numerous new strains bred and raised and documented, a growing colony entirely under her control, developed within a controlled environment, under the watchful gaze of her assistant, the artificial intelligence Nicomachus.

All the same, it was ridiculous that she-

Her mental rant interrupted by the sound of clicking footsteps, Dr. Steiner turned her chair around to face one of the mercenaries she had hired to assist her in the more unsavory aspects of her research.

"Captain. You've returned."

After stopping and getting in the usual salute, the Captain stood up straight. He was something of a marvelous physical specimen among humans, having been a former slave himself, killing his master after half a decade of rigorous physical work. It was just a pity that his DNA was largely incompatible with what she had in mind. Still, the man knew to respect her and performed admirably well, earning her trust in exchange for being given overall command over the rest of the mercenaries.

If she wasn't far more interested in females, the woman knew she would have invited the Captain to share her bed. Ah well, that didn't really matter. As long as he did what he was ordered to do, the scientist was pleased enough.

"Yes, ma'am. Came to drop off my report." The Captain spoke as he placed a file on the work desk beside the woman, helmet still in place as was the rest of his armor, the assault rifle still slung from his shoulder. "The ship is nearly ready to take off and we've managed to secure everything you requested. The only thing left to do is finding the people you need."

"Good, good. Though, frankly, I was hoping that after all the advertising we did so far, there would be more people but what I've seen so far has been..."

"Unsatisfactory."

Dr. Steiner sighed as she nodded, fingers rubbing against the bridge of her nose. "Unfortunately, it is as you say, Captain. I doubt we'll be finding anyone so we'll be leaving tonight."

The Captain, however, raised a hand as if to stop her. "Actually, there's someone else. She expressed some interest in answering your ad and we brought her with us. She's waiting out in the lobby. Gave her name as Tylna."

"Oh? I suppose it couldn't hurt to fit in one more interview. Tylna, you said?" Upon receiving an affirmative from the Captain, Dr. Steiner got up from her seat and began walking toward the door he had come in, accompanied by the mercenary. "All the same, get your men ready to leave and have the ship prepped. If she isn't what I need, we're leaving. If she is, she'll be joining us."

"Understood. I'll be off then, with your permission." The Captain left once she had dismissed her with a gesture, pushing through the door and stepping into the waiting room.

"Tylna?"

Mostly she'd expressed interest in finding a building to duck away from Sheriff Roscoe Hoggins and his three favored sons and their toothless grins and their big guns. Oh, backwaters are just the same everywhere, aren't they? There's also the issue of the fine taxpayer who has sent these dashing representatives of the law on the chase, a man (if he can be called that), made out of shadows, who's occupation, notoriety, and demeanor necessitate his existence on this hillbilly planet the same as Doctor Steiner. Principally, there's the debt owed for his sports class space cruiser, wrecked by a certain fuzzy outlaw, and the ownership contract signed as payment for said total loss. Yes, technically, he's his owner. But he treated her badly. Worse, treated her like she was stupid.

And it's not like that slip of paper would stand up in intergalactic court anyway. There are so many contracts of ownership, so many bills of sale and debts owed and legal complications it would take a law firm a lifetime to untangle it all. The only thing that's clear is she doesn't belong to herself.

She's spent her time waiting in the lobby peering through the blinds of the windows, sprawling along the couch, peering with puzzled eyes over the illustrations in the few waiting room magazines that have them, momentarily fingering herself while she thought of a space captain she wouldn't mind getting back to, crawling over the reception desk and quietly peering down the hall for any signs of interest. As Steiner steps out, she's perched on the back of the couch, sniffing with mild consternation at a brilliantly violet wax fruit, tossing it in her paw, trying to determine whether or not it will bounce off a wall. She's in the middle of a jaw cracking yawn when the doctor steps through the door, the wax fruit dangling lazily from finger, punctured through with tiny claw.

She's dressed for success, but mercy knows what kind of field that success might be in. A critical understanding of how clothing works has always seemed to elude Tylna. Oh, she understands that people in a civilized society have to wear clothes. She just either never comprehended or never cared to follow the underlying tenets of modesty and practicality. An officer's coat of some unknown and presumably long defunct military must have been built for that archaic nation's Napoleon, and still it's comically over-sized for her, fluffy tail forced to curl around her waist and peek out the front to prevent from being engulfed in the folds, the surely once magnificent black fabric and red stripes now faded, patches at the elbows. More puzzlingly, a pair of black and red striped socks climb to her knee, covering the, um, roughly analogous purple striping of her furred calves. The socks don't seem to be particularly dirty or worn, suggesting, somewhat bewilderingly, that perhaps she carried them carefully with her to wear in this interview? The modesty afforded to her calves is the only modesty afforded anywhere, the rest of her body on shameless, nude display, from the plump roundness of her breasts, which bounce deliciously with each curious, spastic movement of her swaying form, to what must be at the very least least a dozen piercings, decorating her body from twitching ears to twitching sex. Rings adorn her fingers. A garish mish-mash of colorful costume necklaces spill past the puffy rise of fur at her collar to jangle against her chest. None of them match. But two pieces stand out particularly amongst the gypsy selection. A collar, sleek and chrome, a perceptive eye might recognize as a mid-priced translation collar. Less identifiable and just above it, a choke chain, simple cord adorned with slivers of wood, each an inch thick maybe and a couple inches wide, each meticulously decorated with notches as if communicating some primitive form of written word. Perched atop her head, a black beret that seems the perfect accoutrement to tie the whole ensemble all together.

Head tilted, eyes wide and unblinking and curious, she stares at the Doctor. She's statuesque. She's beautiful. None of this is out of the ordinary. It's, in fact, expected. Her experience with doctors has been nearly exclusively with those among the ADD, so much so that she may be inclined to believe that beauty is a prerequisite for the job. Like fashion models. Or the wives of powerful politicians. Her tail sways playfully left and right, perched on the back of the couch, she smiles her winningest job interview smile.

"I'm here to be your lab bunny...?" Tilted inflection at the end, smile quirked in the slightest bit of bewilderment, hoping this is how the process goes. "I mean, I'm here to apply for the application of the process of the employment of becoming your lab bunny."

"So I gather." Dr. Steiner smiled as she gave the girl a measuring up of her own, taking in the appearance she had chosen to present herself with. Well, it wasn't all that bad, considering what she had seen the last few hopefuls come in. At the very least, at least the latest applicant seemed to be relatively normal, not desperate and insistent as her predecessors had proven themselves to be. That, in itself, was already a huge improvement. Still, she couldn't help but gaze at the alien female, at how her body was decorated with piercings and apart from this, how attractive she herself was.

Pushing the door open wider, the woman stepped to the side to reveal a makeshift office and lab, largely clinical rather than filled with advanced machines and all manners of devices built for poking and prodding. "If you would, we can have your interview in my office. Ah, and feel free to make yourself more comfortable if you'd like. It's been a while since I've seen a Ryjel, but if I remember correctly, your people aren't all that accustomed to clothes, yes?" With that, the woman returned to her room, making her way back into the chair she had been seated in and waited for her interviewee to join her, where there was a second seat just nearby for her to use.

She follows after with easy, spry gait. Her free finger flicks the fake fruit from her claw. It rolls along the interior of the fruit bowl before stopping finally, nestled amongst its equally vapid, equally non-nutritious friends. She gives one quick glance towards the windows before following the Doctor's obediently back into the office. Eyes comb the hall for anything of value. It's just habit. They do the same for the office once they step in. Socked toes curl in carpet as if testing it, head canted sidelong as the Doctor takes a seat. She follows the example, springing onto the chair across from her, her legs crossed indian style, but she seems incapable of staying in place, eyes circling all over the room, taking in the equipment with wide but wandering amazement, clueless as to what any of these things may do but totally mesmerized by them, body following eyes eventually, swiveling in her seat, tail swishing behind her. It's hard to know if she's even listening to the Doc until she responds in kind and even then, her eyes aren't focused on the woman she's supposed to be interviewing for.

"This one's always comfortable, Mistress Steiner. Life is her natural habitat." said with a ringing chime that suggests she's rather proud of that little gem. She probably stole it from somewhere. "We're just--" It takes a second for those words to sink in. Her little wet nose twitches curiously, tail curling around narrow waist, and she swivels back, her eyes suddenly and intently back on the Doctor. One, long ear lays flat against head, the other twitching rapidly. "You know about us?"

Comfortably seated in her chair, the doctor pulled a clipboard off the table and went through it, green eyes shifting from section to section quickly. Though, she is rather piqued by the Ryjel's actions, almost as if she is examining the female now. The woman wasn't quite sure if she is even being paid attention to, at least until Tylna finally speaks

Smiling at the remark, the woman watched with no small interest as Tylna goes on, spinning around in the chair until she comes to a stop, the scientist's recent comment finally sinking in apparently.

Dr. Steiner chuckled. How could she not know of them? Considering what sort of work she did, it was natural for the woman to be as knowledgeable about the various races spread throughout the universe. Economy, politics, these things were irrelevant to the pursuit of science and left up to others. However, things like traits and biology and, yes, culture were all things worth knowing.

"Yes, I do. I've had the pleasure of running across another Ryjel a while back then. Quite the informative meeting, actually. She was kind enough to help me out with a little project of mine." Though, it wasn't quite willingly, she reminded herself. Still, that needn't be said. "I'd like to know more about you yourself, though. Age, height and weight, any health conditions you might have. The more you can share, the better. Of course if you don't know, that's no problem. We have all the equipment we need here to find out."

It's only then that the doctor realizes that she has forgotten her manners. Smiling slightly, the woman looks at Tylna. "My apologies, I forget... My name's Doctor Steiner, though if you like, you can call me Katherine."

Could there be others out there? She just gets dizzy at the thought. And this Doctor has met one? If there was ever such a thing as a sign from above... She grins open-mouthed and guileless, needle-like teeth exposed. It's plain she's bought it hook, line, and sinker. This is the stars aligning, truly. Legs unfolding, she tucks them under her rear, upper body rocking forward to lean over the desk, chin propped on folded arms, back arched succulent as she sprawls the length between the chair and the desk's edge, ass pointed upward, tail high and swaying gently back and forth, so naturally sexualized that she's not even aware of the body language she's conveying. If Doctor Steiner has studied her species before, she may very well recognize them as the cues a ryjel gives when it presents itself for mating, might even recognize that faint, honeyed smell of her sex, if her nose is strong enough. But it hardly takes a biologist to identify Tylna's body language.

"Owners care about numbers. Pets don't. Is that what this equipment's for, Doctor? Can this one call you Doctor?" Her stomach growls on cue. Voice softer but only very vaguely sheepish at the rudeness of the act. "Are there fruit that aren't make believe here?"

The woman smiled at the reaction she had gotten from the Ryjel. They were really much too interesting for their own good, weren't they? Still, to be presented with the sight before her, a Ryjel so plainly offering herself up for mating. With the amount of research she had done and all the information she had brought to her, it was as blatant as waving a flag in front of her.

Still, that only served to pique the doctor's interest further. Well, that and the answer Tylna had given her. Owners care about numbers. Pets don't. It was a simplistic remark, yes, but betrayed something with deeper meanings. It was plain that this was no simple creature, regardless of how she might appear.

Dr. Steiner had never been in the business of underestimating people, after all. Smiling at Tylna, Dr. Steiner got up before nodding her head. "Doctor will do, Tylna, and I do believe we have real fruits that you can enjoy. Wait there, I'll be right back." The woman placed her hand on Tylna's shoulder as she swept past the Ryjel, making her way into another room to the side, which had served as a lounge of sorts for the mercenaries.

Though largely empty by now, fortunately there was indeed some fruits in one of the containers, untouched for the most part as the men were clearly more interested in the usual fare - Alcohol and the usual rations of MREs.

Pulling out a bag which contained mostly exotic fruits exported across the galaxy, Dr. Steiner returned to Tylna, placing the bag down on the desk in front of her and seated herself once again. "Enjoy. As for the equipment..." She looked around, going over some of the devices in the room. "Some of them are for finding out numbers, yes. Others, they're for finding out other things. I'd like to ask you as to whenever you know what being a... Ah, lab bunny, for me entails?"

Might as well find out how much the Ryjel knows, eh? It would give the woman something to go on, though she considered the fact that even if Tylna wasn't suitable for what she had in mind, it couldn't hurt to bring her along for entertainment purposes.

After all, if she was so voluntary...

Eyes follow the Doctor out curiously, tall ears twitching. She waits for the sound of the door to click fully closed before she slips from the chair and begins her inspection of the office. It's not an act of suspicion or of malice. It doesn't even preclude a genuine possibility of dog-like loyalty. It's just force of habit, poorly bred scavenger. She's curious, is all. But naturally, anything she finds of interest ends up stuffed in over-sized coat pockets. Toys. Baubles. Trinkets. Sensitive ears stay attuned for the Doctor's footfalls, and as the door creaks back open, she's scampered over to a rather menacing piece of equipment, under pretense of investigating it. She twists on heels as the Doctor approaches. Eyes alight on the bowl of food and she bridges the gap between them in a spring of steps that literally take both feet off the ground. By the time Doctor Steiner can sit, she's perched in her own chair, wrapped around the bowl like a mother ape cuddling her infant, stuffing her face with the succulent fruit.

A splatter of red juice dyes her chin as she lifts her eyes back up to the Doctor. That glazed expression of satisfaction in her eyes is practically post-coital. The pleasure of fruit lust satisfied. "En? Tails? Miss?" You can practically see the gears grinding in her little head. She doesn't know the word, so it takes her a moment to process the context clues, keen eyes turned upward in thought. "Don't know. Needles? Urine samples? Stress tests? Maybe you run her through a maze or strap her in a ship and crash her into walls?" Tail swishing playfully this way and that. She pops a small, oblong violet fruit in the air and snatches it deftly in her mouth. Gulp. "Will she get one of those big fixed wheels to run around in?" She shrugs non-chalantly. "The ADD ran some tests sometimes but mostly that was just sticking things inside me. Didn't strike this girl as very scientific. But what does she know?"

Dr. Steiner smiles as she listens to the Ryjel talking, even as she enjoys the fruits the doctor had brought her. It was apparent that the Ryjel did indeed take no small pleasure in devouring the sweet mix of the fruits, something she decided to make a mental note of for later. After all, she'd need a way to please the alien, something to serve as a reward. Something to keep her seeing the doctor in a positive light, regardless of what she might go through. "Heh, it would see you do have some idea of what scientists like to do. That said, what I have in mind will be at least more enjoyable than just running around in a maze." The woman ease forward as she place her hands together, staring at Tylna. "How about compensation? We'd give you whatever you like. A warm bed, plenty of fruits, money, hmm?"

She beams up at the Doctor with big eyes stripped of cynicism, somehow beautiful and innocent still despite the gauntlets of abuse that have defined her life, eager flash of teeth as Miss heaps her with praise. She stares right back. Eye contact, she's been taught, is crucial to human empathy. "All of those!" she chirps, then pauses, considering. Food, shelter, and baubles have been the defining factor in her succession of leash wielding sugar daddies (and mommas) and gilded cages. Instinct and the lessons of some of her kinder associates through the years suggest there might be something more, some greater ambition she might find fulfilled through a more rigorously negotiated contract. Tongue clicks to roof of mouth, barbell stud clinking against ivory teeth in thought.

Nope! Nothing comes to mind!

"But there's... um.... some legal complications that might need to be untangled first. Some mean, local richy who seems to think he owns her. And he's bought off the filth." Leaning in to sniff at fragrant fruit. Eyes dart briefly back up to the Doctor. "He doesn't, of course! But would like very much to keep her in his presence." Her tail swishes. "Many find Tylna's charm intoxicating. She's like a drug to some refined aristocrats. It's a great burden for her." Chomp!

Still smiling as usual, the woman nodded, not surprised at how easy it had been to gauge what sort of recompense would be enough to satisfy the Ryjel. Then again, given how they were usually treated, it was probably intentional on the part of those exploiting them.

Though, if it came down to it, more rewards could be provided to keep the female properly... amicable. After all, a cooperative test subject would certainly go a long, long way.

And then, there was this. "Legal complications, I see." So there was someone who wanted to keep the Ryjel in his possession, was there now? Well, that would certainly be an impediment to her research. "The filth? Ah, I see... Someone's using the authorities to enforce their will. Such is the privilege of the wealthy, I suppose..."

It's only then that she settles back into her seat, as if thinking of what to do about these 'legal complications'. She could always have the Captain and his men handle it. But that would have been akin to using a sledgehammer to perform brain surgery.

No, it would be a tad bit too much, indeed. Despite the Ryjel's seemingly simplistic nature, she could tell there was more to Tylna than one would normally perceive. "I can see why they find your charm intoxicating, Tylna. I don't blame your pursuer for wanting to keep you. Though, truth be told, I'd very much prefer to have you come with me. I'm about to leave this planet behind, so... If this aristocrat doesn't own you as you say, then there shouldn't be any problem if you were to leave with us. I do have soldiers of my own who could see to your safety."

She chirps eagerly at the Doctor's response. This one is one of the Good Ones! She can tell already! She stares down at the bowl of fruit as Steiner suggests leaving, weighing her options, and after a quick, panicked consideration, plucks out a large plum-like fruit, devouring it seemingly in one gulp, then proceeds to stuff the remaining fruit in the deep pockets of her coat.

"Ready!"