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[Warning! This story contains vore (F/M, F/Multiple, fatal and nonfatal), violence and strong language, and way more science jargon garbage than a smut story should reasonably have. Enter at your own peril]

Approaching destination. Coordinates: Primary Galactic Cluster, Quadrant III, Sector Γ, Beta Celkari System, Planet Karkuron. ETA: thirteen minutes and twenty nine seconds.

“What's the weather like today on Karkuron?”

Surface temperature is currently 391 degrees Myrnic, with an atmospheric humidity of 84.761%. Sensors indicate imminent rainfall.

“Do we have any data on atmospheric pressure and surface gravity?”

Public datafiles indicate that Planet Karkuron has a gravitational force of 2.136 Gs, with an atmospheric pressure of 276,311 pascals.

“Pretty extreme conditions for such an average-looking mud ball, but at least it's hotter than last time. Adjust my systems to those conditions and bring up the job details. I need to look over what we're here for before we touch down.”

Right away, sir.

Marcus didn't really consider himself to be a Hunter. Really, he was finding new and different ways to be hunted on most of his jobs. He always felt like the word “collector” suited him much better; it was a lot closer to his actual work.

Marcus smiled slightly as the thought crossed his mind, scratching at his left eye as his gaze roamed across his most recent job offer. Sure, Hunters of his reputation were rare enough in this Quadrant, but even he had to admit that his high prices were somewhat dwarfed by the offer in front of him.

Looking down, he flexed his prosthetic arm, observing the cables and the flexible polymer stretch and bend. Though he always made sure to upgrade to the latest software that the PGF released, he could definitely use a tune-up or two on the hardware in his limbs and his eye. Plus, he should probably get that infuriating clicking noise that had been emanating from his chest looked at sometime soon.

Glancing at one of the many monitors that bathed him in soft light, he sighed as his eyes settled on the current ETA. Waiting was the worst part of these sorts of jobs. Ten minutes seemed to stretch into ten days while his prosthetics went through their routine checks.

“A.L.C., are my prosthetics going to be able to function properly under these conditions?” Marcus addressed his ship's automated systems, waiting patiently for a reply.

Calculating… complete. Your arm and leg will be able to cope efficiently with the heightened gravity and pressure, as will your artificial lungs, kidney, heart, neurons, and eye. However, I am activating your liver's low-power functions as it will struggle to handle the increased pressure.

“I knew that sleazeball was selling me a faulty piece of garbage,” Marcus sighed heavily and grimaced, clutching his abdomen and feeling the ever-present buzz of his artificial organs. “Make a note for me, I need to have a talk with our friend.”

Noted, sir. Preliminary calibrations complete, all biological and mechanical systems nominal. ETA: seven minutes and forty two seconds. Might I suggest a light round of chess to pass the time?

“Sure, not like there's anything else to do. Ramp the difficulty up to level six this time, I want a quick match.”

Affirmative. I will be sure to win our game quickly and efficiently, sir.

Soon the sharp, black form of Marcus's ship breached the atmosphere of Karkuron, gliding over the thick foliage and damp ground. Karkuron was a lot of things, but the thing that was most abundant was green. The sky was tinged with it, the plants boasted hundreds of shades of it, most of the creatures were cloaked in it, the list goes on. The trees and foliage that blanketed nearly every square foot of soil were at best patchy and at worst a thick shield that completely obscured the forest floor. This barrier of broad leaves and thick branches caused the surface of the humid planet to look like an endless sea of shifting green, broken only by the occasional clearing or body of water when viewed from the air.

As the hull of Marcus's ship brushed lightly against the treetops, the slick black metal took on a greenish hue to better match the surrounding plants. A.L.C. quickly found a small clearing to touch down in, landing on the soft grass with an almost imperceptible whurr.

Marcus stomped out of the ship and down the ramp, grumbling about his most recent loss. His clothes and artificial limbs took on a similar greenish tint as he stepped out in the sunlight, their normally sleek black look becoming mottled and rough. He scoffed slightly as he observed his prosthetics change color and texture, calling out to his AI as he strode away from the well-hidden ship.

“You know the camouflage is really unnecessary. Setting aside the fact that I'm trying to get caught, my hair is purple.”

Apologies, sir. Would you like me to shift your prosthetics back to their default black?

“Its fine, A.L.C., don't waste the processing power. Just ask me before you go changing things next time.”

Yes, sir. I will think twice about being proactive in the future.

Despite being somewhat miffed by the computer's sarcasm, he nodded slightly and deemed A.L.C.'s response to be satisfactory. With that matter mostly resolved, Marcus stepped into the thick web of leaves, using one of the sharp tools embedded in his metal arm to hack away at the dense clumps. As he made his way through the tangled growth, he made a mental note to check over some of his A.I.'s coding to see if he could pinpoint where the strange amount of sass was coming from.

It only took him minutes to pick up a trail, his internal sonar equipment and magnification lens easily detecting the slightest irregularity in the soft terrain. Kneeling down to examine the large print in the ground, the Hunter began to log any information he could gather about his quarry's size and send the data back to A.L.C.’s database.

The process was slow-going, the uncomfortably damp air and stifling heat slowing Marcus's progress through the thick mud and the massive trees. For a moment, he contemplated drying the mud with one of his tools, or perhaps just knocking down trees and using them for paths through the viscous soil. The second idea was mostly a joke, though, he was smart enough to know not to knock down thousand-year old trees on a planet so close to the center of the Primary Galactic Federation. Odds are it would only take minutes for him to be tazed or tranquilized or something. Eventually, he came within range of his prey, despite his wandering thoughts and lack of close attention.

Several yards away, nestled within a mound of leaves, branches, and bones, slumbered a large bipedal tigress. Her dark green fur covered the entirety of her body and was crisscrossed with brownish stripes, creating a simple yet effective camouflage. Though she was somewhat on the heavier side, it wasn't hard to tell that the modest layer of fat that covered her limbs was hiding powerful muscles and a dense skeleton. Her paw-like hands were massive as well, a long claw just barely peeking out from the tip of each finger.

Even though Marcus was far enough away that a normal person would have trouble discerning details, the Hunter's artificial eye was able to magnify his vision so dramatically that he could have counted how many hairs were on each of the catgirl's fuzzy ears if he were so inclined.

Pulling up the request log again, he had A.L.C. compare the client's requests to the tigress' dimensions.

Target is approximately 4.3 inches below requested height, 63.7 lbs over target weight, and slightly darker than the requested shade of green. Snout, teeth, tail, and claws are approximately equal to desired sizes, with discretions reaching .036% less or more than desired values. Muscle mass far exceeds desired values. Parameters: met, barely. Target: viable.

"Begin Capture Plan 7," Marcus murmured. He felt the contents of his leg compartments click into place, primed for delivery. All there was left to do was get into position for the next step.

Looking down, the Hunter pressed a couple of buttons on the small screen embedded in his forearm, releasing a plentiful quantity of prey pheromones. Not really sure which would tickle the tigress' fancy the most efficiently, he opted for the classic meek rabbit smell.

Almost on cue, the tigress snapped awake, her attention drawn inextricably to Marcus's enticing smell. Smiling, the Hunter stepped out of the foliage, pursing his lips and whistling loudly at the hungry predator. The tigress salivated at the sight of her prey, stalking closer and examining him critically.

The tigress was definitely confused as to why such a succulent-looking creature was just offering himself up like this, as well as why he looked nothing like a rodent despite the heavy scent that hung off of him. Yet her instincts were much stronger than her intuition. Disregarding these red flags, she quickly pounced on her prey, knocking him to the ground and dragging her tongue across his face.

Deeming the stranger to be suitably tasty, the tigress opened her mouth wide and wrapped her lips around Marcus's head. The catgirl unceremoniously shoved the Hunter's slim frame into her mouth, swallowing thickly and salivating heavily. Marcus's clothing was quickly soaked in his target's thick saliva as each gluck and ulp pulled him deeper and deeper into the waiting depths.

It didn't take long for his head to pop into the tigress' cavernous belly, the organ groaning and tightening eagerly around him. He chuckled softly at the cat's enthusiasm, feeling her lips around his waist already.

Despite the boy's exquisite scent, the tigress was somewhat dismayed at his dull flavor. Still she dutifully gulped down his hips and slurped up his legs, gnawing slightly on his heavy boots before sending him past her breasts and down into her belly with a hearty gulp.

Marcus groaned slightly as he was forced to curl up within the tight confines of the tigress' tight belly, grunting as the loud gurgles and hot acids signalled the start of her digestion. He triggered the first part of his leg's release system, feeling and hearing the first compartment open in his leg. He heard a sharp hiss as the grayish foam was sprayed into his devourer's stomach, quickly mixing with and diluting her otherwise potent acids. The foam didn't stop the acids from doing their job, but it reduced the hot liquid's efficiency to below 13% on average.

The tigress was confused to hear the odd hissing noise, as well as displeased to find that her prey refused to struggle within her. Annoyed slightly at the stubborn meal, she laid back onto her nest and prodded her stomach roughly.

Marcus ignored the predator's insistent nagging, quickly triggering the second compound release. A healthy portion of nanites spilled into the tigress' gut, along with a viscous slime that quickly drained into her intestines. Sighing softly, Marcus settled down and stared at his monitor. This was the second-worst part of his method, tracking the nanites while they worked their way through a predator's digestive tract and from there into the rest of her body.

Outside, the tigress yawned and stretched, the fullness in her gut and the loud grumbles emanating from the organ tiring her out quickly. Settling in a comfortable position, the catgirl curled around her gurgling belly and quickly resumed her afternoon nap.

For over an hour, Marcus guided the nanites as they were slowly dispersed throughout the tigress' body. They quickly attached to her central nervous system, spreading from there to each of her limbs. Eventually, Marcus was able to activate the network of tiny devices, taking control of the tigress' body from within.

Like some kind of grisly vehicle, Marcus used the nanites to stand his devourer up, clumsily piloting the tigress back towards his ship. Having done this more times than the Hunter would like to admit, it wasn't long before the bloated catgirl waddled up onto the entry ramp of Marcus's ship and into one of the holding cells housed within. Once he was satisfied that his cargo was secure, all it took was a little button press and a massive stimulus was sent to the cat's gag reflex. Her eyes snapped open as her stomach lurched, a loud hurk erupting from her as her belly spat Marcus out onto the ground along with the bubbling acid-foam mixture.

Once the Hunter was safely ejected from the tigress' fleshy confines, the cell sealed shut with a swift click. Standing, Marcus looked through the small glass port on the cell door, smiling as the trapped predator viciously tried to claw her way out of the small metal room.

Marcus wandered towards the small shower his ship held, stripping off his soggy clothes and tossing them to the floor. They landed with a wet plap and were quickly scooped up by one of the ship's small sanitation droids.

"A.L.C., shoot a message to the buyer. We've got his prize, not a scratch on her." With a wave of his hand, the small shower sprayed him forcefully with hot water, slowly breaking down the thick slime that caked his hair and skin. "I don't care if she's heavier than what he wanted - he can put her on a goddamned treadmill. I'm not accepting less than the 62,000 units he promised."

Affirmative, sir. Would you like me to phrase it in that manner as well?

"No, no, try to be professional. We don't want to scare him just yet, not while he's still cooperating." It took a lot more scrubbing than Marcus imagined to clear the vile mixture from his thick hair, but he managed to make slow progress as he gave his instructions.

Processing… message sent, sir. Would you like me to take us into orbit? Scanners indicate a severe incoming thunderstorm, one which could quite possibly be intense enough to prevent liftoff.

"Let me finish my shower, I hate trying to wash all this goop off while everything is shaking."

Affirmative, sir. I will check back with you in 10 minutes.

"Make it fifteen. Oh, and send the maintenance droid down as well, I think that thing's acid or spit corroded some of my optical sensors." After a third round of shampoo, Marcus was finally satisfied with the condition of his scruffy purple hair. Standing in the hot water for a brief few moments, Marcus was confronted with his reflection in the shiny metal tiles that made up the walls of the shower. Seeing his reflection caused him to once again contemplate his situation.

Of course, his mind had wandered to the topic of his lineage many, many times. Though few knew about it, Marcus was completely unaware of who he used to be. It was entirely possible that the gaps in his memory were simply a result of having lost it from living for so long. His unnatural longevity was of course due to his artificial enhancements, as well as the advancements that had been made in regenerative biology.

The more concerning possibility was that the huge amount of artificial components that had replaced almost half of his brain had simply replaced the part of his mind that used to hold the memories of his family and his upbringing. Wouldn't be the first time a Hunter lost one too many fleshy bits and forgot who they were.

Either way, it was a topic that he thought about often.

It was entirely possible that he was born during the first developments of artificial gene manipulation, which would explain his unnatural hair and eye color and the stubbornness of his skin and hair. No matter how long he stayed in the sun, his hair stayed a deep shade of purple and his skin seemed stuck in its ever-present shade of deathly pale. Beyond that, he could never seem to get rid of the dark circles that seemed to be a permanent fixture under his eyes, no matter how much or how little sleep he got.

From Marcus's reading, he knew that when these gene manipulation techniques were first released to the public a few centuries ago, many parents thought it would be a method of building some sort of "perfect child". What a joke, thought Marcus, the idea of finding perfection through genetics.

His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of his service droid, which promptly plucked out his mechanical eye and began examining it and his metal socket critically. In the end, the damage was superficial, the tigress had only managed to melt away a bit of the cybernetic eye's outer lens.

Marcus blinked as his eye was roughly shoved back into place, feeling a slight pinch as the optic nerves were reconnected with his brain. A few blinks later and he was as good as new.

Sir, you have received a reply from Mr. Engel about the tigress. He would like to examine her in person before he transfers the units to your account.

"That's not how we do business, A.L.C., you know that."

I'm afraid he's being incredibly insistent, sir. He has offered to compensate you for the fuel cost of traveling to his private moon in Sector β of this Quadrant. He implied that the compensation would include another possible job offer, as well.

At this, Marcus raised his eyebrow, interested. "What kind of compensation are we talking about, here?"

Mr. Engel seems to be in possession of a unique piece of experimental hardware that he believes you'll be interested in. Additionally, Mr. Engel has another unorthodox job offer, like I mentioned. He believes this job is specially suited to your unique talents. He refused to say more beyond that, sir.

Marcus grunted slightly as the hot water shut off and small air vents blasted him with warm air, drying his body quickly. Scratching his bare chest idly, Marcus wandered towards his quarters. Flicking open his small closet with his hand, he scanned his limited wardrobe.

"Well, damn, he's got me in a vise on this one. I'm quite interested in what that fat cat thinks I'd break my policies to get a look at. Either this Mr. Engel is luckier than I took him for, or he knows me well enough to be relatively sure that I'll take the bait." Tossing on a pair of loose-fitting pants and leaving the rest of his body bare, the Hunter sighed in frustration and slammed his wardrobe closed. "Ah, fuck it. Set a course for that moon, and heat me up something in the kitchen. I'm gonna need some food and a nap before we touch down. And no seafood this time, if I see another bugfish like the last one I'm going to hurl."

Coordinates locked, sir. Engaging Warp Drive. Destination: Primary Galactic Cluster, Quadrant III, Sector β, Alpha Ouryn System, 3rd moon of Xyltox. ETA: 6 hours, 28 minutes and 04 seconds.

…

Marcus was awoken roughly by a blaring alarm. The monitor in front of him displayed several lines of red text, as well as notifying him that there was still another three and a half hours to go before the Hunter reached Xyltox, which meant that he'd only been asleep for ninety minutes.

"A.L.C, what's going on? Where's the breach?"

Containment unit four has ruptured, sir. The tigress is loose.

"Oh, great," Marcus muttered, swearing under his breath as he leapt out of his chair and sprinted towards the containment zone. "Isn't that the cell that got fucked up by that tarantula we hauled out a couple of weeks ago?"

Affirmative, sir. It seems that the damage dealt by the arachnid wasn't as superficial as my diagnostics had indicated. My apologies, Captain.

"Save the waterworks and run a thermal scan, I don't need some giant cat chewing my cables all to hell." As Marcus reached the containment cells, his eyes settled on the mangled metal that used to be a door. The thick glass and metal that had been used to seal the interior of the cell off from the rest of the ship was in ruins, Marcus's initial guess that the tigress had simply broken the latch and forced open the cell blown away as his eyes settled on the shredded remains of Cell 4. His arm released a sharp snikt as a blade extended from it automatically.

"Here, kitty kitty," Marcus called. "Come on out and I won't have to skin you."

Sir, my calculations indicate that insults are not an effective method of drawing out stowaways.

"Real helpful, A.L.C., thank you. How about that thermal scan I asked for?"

Finishing primary scan… now. Error. One thermal signature detected. Signature identified as Captain Marcus Ford. No signs of other lifeforms outside of containment cells.

"Great, just perfect. Now the thermal scanner is broken, too. Try the pressure sensors, maybe it managed to--"

Whatever Marcus was about to say was quickly stifled as a heavy weight crashed into him from behind, knocking him to the ground. He had just enough time to flip himself over onto his back before the green tigress threw herself onto him, using her weight to pin him to the ground.

A deep, guttural snarl escaped the massive predator as she stared down angrily at Marcus. She began to speak in some language that Marcus couldn't understand, causing the Hunter to blink slightly and wriggle his metal arm just enough to activate the small translator embedded in his skull.

"--going on? Where am I?" Marcus winced as a sharp ringing noise rattled his teeth, the feedback from his translator quickly fading as it finished calibrating. "Can you even understand me, you metal freak?!"

"Calm down, pussycat, yelling isn't going to help either of us." Marcus tried to reach up and rub his now-aching head, but he was quickly stopped by a heavy paw. "You're on my ship en route to your new home."

"Ship? Home? What are you talking about?!"

Marcus sighed, shifting uncomfortably under the tigress' massive girth. "If you would stop screaming like I asked, maybe I could formulate an answer for you."

The tigress snarled again, baring her long fangs in an effort to unsettle the apathetic Hunter. "Talk, then. Make it fast so I can eat you again."

"The short version is I let you eat me and I used the opportunity to get you back to my ship so I can sell you."

"How did you get me here? You look like you could barely lift a pebble, let alone something like me. Besides, last thing I recall before I woke up in this scrapheap is you inside of me."

"Nanites, pussycat. Tiny robots. Luckily for you, it seems that they've worked their way out of your system already, or they're at least offline. Otherwise I'd still be able to play puppet master with you."

"You're awfully confident for someone that's about to be digested, freak."

"Oh, that won't be happening."

The tigress laughed, grinding herself roughly against Marcus's torso and drawing a pained grunt from the cyborg as the added weight forced the air out of his lungs. "You're not just annoying, but stupid too. Hopefully you'll at least taste better now that you've had a bath."

"Yeah, not likely. I don't get very good reviews on my flavor most of the time." A soft klik-zzzt reached the tigress' ears a moment before Marcus dug his knee into her back, the two small prongs that jutted out of his leg sending a massive amount of voltage through her nervous system. The tigress howled as the small taser caused her muscles to spasm and twitch, giving Marcus enough of an opening for him to shove the heavy catgirl off of him and bolt back towards the cockpit.

The tigress bounded after Marcus angrily, shouting obscenities at the cyborg as he scrambled towards his console. Marcus reached the controls with seconds to spare, punching a couple of buttons and breathing a sigh of relief as a thin field of translucent energy sprang into place between him and the tigress with a mechanical whoom. The catgirl managed to throw her weight backwards just in time to stop herself from colliding with the energy field, screaming in frustration as she was again separated from her prey.

"There, now we can talk." Marcus leaned against one of his monitors slightly, trying to catch his breath. "Next time, watch the leg, pussycat. It's where I store all of my non-lethals."

"You horrid, insufferable freak!" The tigress roared, fuming. "Get out here and fight me so I can finally have a decent meal!"

"Look, calm down. I get it, you're hungry and you're confused. The compound that I use to dilute stomach acids tends to do that. Just talk to me for a moment, okay?"

"You cannot fathom how absurdly famished I am right now. I couldn't care less why I'm starving, creep. Why should I listen to you?"

"Because if you give me a chance, I'll show you where I keep the critters I use to feed my catches. I might even open the door for you so you don't have to break it down."

The catgirl stared furiously at Marcus for a few seconds, panting heavily. For a few tense moments, all was quiet while the tigress weighed her options. The silence was broken abruptly by a loud, needy groooooooowl from the tigress' empty belly. She doubled over slightly, clutching at her midriff as her stomach ached and groaned. Marcus smirked as she looked back up at him, crossing his arms expectantly.

"Fine, you win. You have my undivided attention. Make it quick, I'd rather not have the last thing I hear be your horrid voice."

"There now, that wasn't so hard." Marcus settled into his chair, doing his best to suppress his racing heartbeat and rising nervousness. "Here's the deal. That cell you broke out of may have been damaged, but the door was still two inch thick PGF-grade plasteel. You turned it into a glorified high-tech tin can."

"What can I say? A girl needs some muscle if she wants to be around to see her second decade where I'm from."

"That was more than 'muscle.' I've pulled the files on your species. That little feat far exceeds the parameters of the recorded averages."

"I get it. I'm a big kitty. You buttering me up doesn't make me want to like you, freak. Butter yourself up and you might catch my interest."

"Besides that," Marcus almost seemed to ignore the catgirl's attempts at ruffling him, "you managed to somehow evade some of the most sensitive thermal sensors available on commercial market servers. How exactly did you do that?"

The tigress huffed slightly, crossing her arms. "If you've 'read the files' like you claim, you would know that my kind can adjust our body temperatures. I didn't really do it on purpose; it's kind of a reflex when my adrenaline spikes. A lot of the predators in my home are reptiles that have thermal vision."

"Now that's interesting, because public files actually don't mention that little detail." Marcus leaned forward slightly, staring intently at the tigress. "So, either the PGF's records are incomplete, or you're lying and you're a unique specimen. Unique means valuable. Valuable means I'm interested."

"I'm nowhere near unique, all of my kin can pull the temperature trick." The tigress fidgeted slightly, clearly uncomfortable. "What even is a PGF anyway?"

"The Primary Galactic Federation. It's basically a glorified political group that advertises itself as some kind of government. They're entirely overrated in terms of their political views, but they sure make some damn fine guns."

"Gover-what? Polit… politic… are those even real words?"

Marcus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Oh, good, this whole 'I don't get society' thing. It's the harpy situation all over again. Really getting tired of this schtick."

"You… know I can hear you, right?"

Ignoring the comment, Marcus stood and deactivated the energy field. He strode confidently towards the catgirl, offering his hand to her. "Look, I'm sorry I captured you and forced you to come here against your will. Also, apologies about the whole 'I own you now' thing. At this point, we're very, very far away from your home and I'm not turning around. Either you let me sell you and take your chances with whatever dumb fuck decided they want a horribly dangerous tigress from Karkuron as a pet, or you work with me and I'll make sure you get more food than you can handle."

The tigress hesitated, staring at Marcus's hand. She hesitantly extended her paw, which Marcus seized and shook promptly.

"Show me this 'food' you're talking about, and maybe you'll have yourself a deal."

"Excellent. My name is Marcus, by the way. Marcus Ford." The Hunter did his best to offer his new partner a reassuring smile. "A lot of people call me a lot of stupid junk, but most of the people that I like call me Marcus. Not stuff like freak or insufferable, so…"

The tigress nodded, clearing her throat slightly. "I, uh... don't really have a name. I tend not to talk to things before I eat them, so I've never bothered."

"Well, would you like a name, or shall I continue to call you pussycat?"

The tigress' upper lip twitched slightly at the name. She sighed softly, nodding again. "Alright, what do you have in mind?"

"Not a goddamned clue. A.L.C., name generator, please. Also, log our new friend in the crew list.

Affirmative, captain. New personnel logged. Initiating name generator…

The tigress jumped as the smooth voice emanated from the walls, crouching down and hissing slightly. "What is that?"

"That's my assistant, A.L.C. She helps me not crash into the nearest moon whenever I travel."

Name one: Michael.

"Oh, female names, A.L.C." Marcus motioned for his companion to follow him as he began to walk back towards the containment zone. "Probably should have mentioned that."

Apologies, sir. Setting updated. Name two: Sierra.

"That one's not bad, eh?" Marcus spoke over his shoulder, not bothering to look back at the tigress. "Unless you wanted to look at the guy names as well?"

"Uh, no. Maybe something else?"

Name three: Edith.

"Maybe something a little more… unassuming?" Marcus shot the tigress a quizzical look at her comment, but allowed her to continue her search.

Name four: Morgan.

Marcus stopped at one of the doors out of the nine containment cells that were nestled into his ship, glancing briefly at the mangled mess that used to be Cell 4.

"I kind of like that one, actually." The tigress' tail flicked back and forth slightly as she pondered her possible name.

"Put a pin in that for a second. You can think on it after dinner."

The tigress struggled to hide her excitement as Marcus fiddled with the small keypad by the door. After several loud beeps, the thick metal door finally slid aside. Two creatures were lying in beds opposite from each other in the small cell. Both of them perk up slightly as the door slid open, their gazes quickly flicking back and forth between Marcus and his guest.

The humanoid creatures were… odd, to say the least. Each were covered in a layer of short, thick fur. Their ears were tall, rabbit-like, but their pupils were horizontal and their teeth was flat, almost like that of a goat or sheep. Compounding this oddity were several patches where the coarse fur gave way to thick, wool-like clumps of hair.

"What are those…? They're… they smell…" The tigress had to put a paw on the doorframe as the scent of the two fuzzy things hit her. Her stomach released another violent noise as her knees nearly gave out from under her.

"They're called splices. Super creative name, I know." Marcus chuckled as he saw the tigress' reactions, gesturing forward as she glanced fervently at him. "It's a fancy way of saying 'genetically engineered junk.' These two specimens are some horrifying mix of sheep and rabbit and some other kind of rodent. Long story short, they're not very valuable. Too many things in one package, if you know what I mean." As the tigress stumbled forward into the cell, the two creatures stood slightly, hesitantly approaching the predator that had presented itself to them.

"The other odd thing about them is the sicko I got these two off of mentioned that they had some sort of defect to their genes. They've been staying with me because for whatever reason, they really want to be eaten. Like, they're convinced that it's their only purpose for existing." The tigress glanced at him slightly, definitely confused as the two splices whimpered softly and pressed themselves against her abdomen.

"You've… just been keeping them in here?"

"Sure, why not? I feed them, make sure they get exercise, all the good stuff. They're not my prisoners or anything, despite their accommodations. I just didn't want them to occupy the crew quarters because they don't really have a good grasp on the concept of personal space." Marcus turned on his heel, giving a slight shrug before striding away. "Let me know when you're done with them, and if you come to a conclusion on my offer. I'll be in my quarters resuming my nap; A.L.C. can lead you there when you pack those two away."

"Wait, you're just leaving me here with these? What if I just eat them both and start fucking with your stuff?"

"You'll be fine. I doubt that you'll be able to do much of anything after you have those two anyway. Either you waddle to my room or I'll get down here when you're done. If you wander too far, I'll just taze you again." Before the tigress could protest further, Marcus was gone.

The tigress turned back to the two rabbit-sheep things before her. The sweet, slightly tangy scent that practically poured from their fur caused her stomach to twist and her mouth to water profusely. She glanced over the two splices briefly, their soft fur and slight curves not helping her discern any defining characteristics besides the fact that they were soft and small and absolutely delicious.

Soon, the tigress gave up on trying to think about her meals, instead switching her tactics. One of her large paws found their way to the back of one of the sheep's heads, pressing its face firmly against her midriff. The other splice was seized firmly by the hair and dragged upward to the catgirl's dripping maw, where its face was promptly covered by the tigress' rough tongue.

Another low gurrr-oooooan seeped out of the tigress' guts as the intoxicating flavor poured over her senses, causing both her and her food to shudder slightly and let out a chorus of soft moans. Unable to bear the emptiness that her belly was constantly reminding her of any longer, the tigress shoved her meal's entire head into her massive mouth, rubbing against every inch of the bunny's fur with her tongue. The catgirl's prey was already squirming tantalizingly within her mouth, the movement only heightening when the splice's neck and shoulders were pulled into the tigress' tight throat with a single wet gluck.

The second bunny rose slightly as the tigress released another meaty sluurp-ulk. The bunny's soft hands found their way to the wiggling bulge that steadily sank towards the catgirl's roaring belly. A muffled groan worked its way out of the tigress' full mouth as she felt the combined pressures of her two meals, both on the inside and the outside.

By the time that her first snack's head popped into her expectant stomach, the tigress was forced to drag herself and her prey to one of the beds and sit down or risk collapsing. Abandoning her efforts to goad the second sheep into participating, the catgirl groped her prey's juicy rear as it slowly inched its way towards her furiously thrashing tongue.

Another loud ulk and the first bunny's rump squeezed into her mouth. A wet gluuurp sent the round orbs into her throat, and another thick gul-lulk pulled the bunny in up to its knees. All that was left was for the tigress to seize her meal's ankles and roughly shove the last of her food down, groaning as the fuzzy treat slid slowly into her bloated abdomen.

The tigress leaned back against the wall, momentarily allowing her second meal to firmly knead and rub against her stomach and its writhing contents. Her stomach seemed to be content with what it was given, releasing a few contented burbles and groans. Soon, though, the tigress felt her stomach acids really kick in, and the combination of her stomach muscles churning and the splice's ecstatic writhing forced a bubble of gas up her throat.

The catgirl's mouth fell open as her throat emitted a hot, wet bur-oooourph. The release of pressure caused a surge of pleasure that caught the tigress off-guard, but the extra space sent another needy grooooowl out of her stomach. The cat eyed her other meal greedily, reaching her paw out and licking her lips as the sheep splice obediently pressed its neck into her palm. The tigress roughly shoved her second meal's head into her wet maw, eliciting an excited moan from the bunny girl that tickled her throat.

…

Sir, shouldn't you be monitoring the Karkuronian? She could very well have escaped confinement.

Marcus sighed softly, turning over again on his small cot. "One of these days I'm going to have to install a mute button on you, A.L.C." Groaning, the Hunter sat up and perched on the end of his firm mattress, checking the clock. "Two and a half more hours, of course. Pull up the video feed from Cell 2 again, please."

The monitor that had moments ago been displaying a simple digital clock sprang to life, lighting up the dark room. Marcus leaned forward slightly, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on his hands as the video feed came into focus.

The first splice had been churning in his new partner's stomach for some time now, but she still had the second one's rump between her teeth and her tongue between its legs. Apparently, his companion enjoyed playing with her food.

"Well, at least she's enjoying herself. Set a timer for about fifteen more minutes, then we'll go bother her again."

Of course, sir.

Marcus stretched, groaning as his servos and muscles strained slightly. The cyborg sighed softly, flopping back down onto the hard mattress and shutting his eyes. The soft hum of his ship and the gentle rocking of FTL travel were oddly soothing, and Marcus soon found himself slipping into unconsciousness.

Captain, the Karkuronian has finished consuming the splices. Shall I instruct her to make her way to your quarters?

"Didn't I say fifteen minutes, damnit?" Marcus bolted upright, furiously checking the clock on his wrist panel and finding that fifteen minutes had already passed him by. "Nevermind, actually, apparently I'm more exhausted than I thought. I'm going to give our new shipmate a visit, run another diagnostic exam on my systems and make sure that my brain isn't shorting out or something."

Marcus staggered out of his quarters, shaking himself slightly and shrugging off his fatigue. Slowly, he made his way through the corridors and down the ladders into the lower levels of his ship, where the cargo bay was. It wasn't exactly that he didn't trust the tigress that he had suddenly entered into a partnership with, it was just that the Hunter knew that it paid to be cautious.

A quick once-over of the metal crates and other piles of junk stored in the bowels of Marcus's ship confirmed that nothing had been moved. Not even a speck of dust was out of place. Sure, he probably could have just checked the security feeds to find this information out, but something about seeing the goods that he had stored in the cargo bay filled him with a sense of accomplishment. Each bauble and bullet that he had stored down here was either bought or won from some poor sap somewhere, and the Hunter allowed himself some pride with the knowledge that he was capable of amassing such an impressive collection.

It was a short jaunt from the cargo bay to the holding cells, and Marcus had walked back and forth between the two locations enough times that he probably could have stumbled there blind and one-legged.

Even if he wasn't familiar with his vessel's layout, he would have been able to easily find the tigress' cell just by following the crass chorus of breeeelches and uuuuhhhrrrrps that echoed through the metallic corridors.

Marcus couldn't help but smirk as he stepped into the doorway to the tigress' cell. For a moment, the catgirl was too enamored with her massive, squirming gut to notice the smug Hunter that leaned against her door frame, but eventually a quiet cough from him drew her attention.

"Done with your meal, then?" Marcus asked, unable to stop the teasing edge from entering his voice. "I assume you're satisfied, judging by the results. Come to a conclusion on my offer, pussycat?"

The tigress glanced at Marcus, nodding and releasing another meaty bourph. "You've got yourself --hicc-- a deal, Ford. And I'm sticking with Morgan, by the way. Cut out that --bruuurp-- that pussycat garbage."

"Alright then," Marcus chuckled, "allow me to officially greet you, Morgan. Welcome aboard the FTLV Blackthorn."