“Those are astonishing outfits!” Sebastian Blood said. “Absolutely
The warrior babes, Suzanne Nag-Witch and Ginny the Screech ‘n’
Wail Mistress, had arrived only minutes before, and were now sitting opposite
Sebastian Blood at the table in the Blenheim’s conference chamber.
Suzanne Nag-Witch smiled and shook her ample breasts from side to side.
Her chain outfit rattled. “Thanks. We made them ourselves.”
Ginny the Screech ‘n’ Wail Mistress giggled, and then rattled
her chains even louder.
Sebastian Blood leaned back in his leather chair and shook his head in admiration.
The door to the conference chamber slid open. Jemima Murma entered and swayed
sensuously over to the table. The new figure-hugging ankle length white
dress she was wearing drew the gaze of all three bounty hunters. With great
dexterity, she put down the two trays of snacks she had been carrying. “Please
help yourselves.” She said. “There’s plenty more if you
Sebastian Blood reached for a small slice of spicy bruise-beast butt-hide.
He chewed hard on the tough snack, his eyes widening as several delectable
flavours flooded his taste buds. It was one of the most sensational culinary
experiences he had ever had. He looked up and noticed Jemima Murma grinning
at him. He swallowed and then grinned back. “Now I know the second
reason!” he said.
“Welcome, everyone.” Peter the Ace said, walking purposefully
into the conference chamber. He was wearing black and polished body armour
that accentuated his already impressive densely muscled physique.
Panman followed immediately behind, dressed in similar body armour. Without
acknowledging anyone he sat down in front of the snacks and began eating.
Almost by instinct, Sebastian Blood, Suzanne Nag-Witch, and Ginny the Screech
‘n’ Wail Mistress got to their feet and stood to attention.
The warrior babes’ chain outfits rattled loudly.
Peter the Ace took position beyond the head of the table, in front of the
room’s largest view-screen. “Please sit down.”
The three lesser bounty hunters sat down. They all watched Panman as he
gorged his way through several well-stuffed moonhog rolls. Their expressions
gave away their deep respect for the first-class bounty hunter. They had
all heard the stories of Panman’s gastronomic exploits; stories that
were highly revered by all other bounty hunters, especially in the lower
Panman looked up at his audience. He nodded, finally acknowledging their
existence, and then returned his attention to his food.
Jemima Murma watched as half the food she’d prepared was rapidly devoured.
“I think I’ll need to prepare another tray.” She said.
“I’ll do it right away.” She walked quickly out of the
conference chamber. The door slid closed behind her.
“Right.” Peter the Ace said. “In a moment I’ll bring
you all up to speed on what’s happening. I’m sure you’re
all eager to know why we issued an I.M.O. command. But first, I must be
the bearer of tragic news. Another bounty hunter, Fearless Jimbo Bones,
was supposed to be joining us, but less than half an hour ago we received
a message from his foul-faced assistant, Brenda Thunda. Unfortunately, his
clandestine mission on a Ken Kasino gambling station in the Puuk Nebula
took a sudden and deadly turn for the worse.”
A concerned look spread across the faces of the three lesser bounty hunters.
Panman poured himself a large glass of Doublegut’s Special Brew, gulped
back a mouthful, and then went back to his eating.
Peter the Ace continued. “Apparently, Fearless Jimbo Bones’s
cover as an elderly prostitute named Leisurely Susan was a little too convincing.
Two days ago he was proposition by a deviant one-tonne Sapien ape with an
unhealthy desire for old humanoid females. Let’s just say that the
ape would not take no for an answer.”
Suzanne Nag-Witch gasped. “What an awful way to go!”
“Yeah.” Panman said between mouthfuls. “According to Brenda
Thunda, Jimbo’s body was ripped apart right up to his chest. That
was one well-endowed ape!”
“Oh my!” Suzanne Nag-Witch said, shocked, and also a little
Peter the Ace returned a more serious tone to the room. “He died in
the course of his duties.” The first-class bounty hunter said solemnly.
“He will be remembered with honour and respect. His name, his image,
and a detailed account of his death will be displayed, as tradition dictates,
in the Palace of Amino’s hall of Dutiful Demise.”
Everyone nodded. All except Suzanne Nag-Witch, whose thoughts had drifted
Peter the Ace spoke more cheerfully. “On to the business at hand.”
He touched the large view-screen behind him. The Palace of Amino insignia
faded and was replaced with a rotating view of Gun-Loc and its single moon.
“For several years there have been growing rumours of some kind of
fanatical cult here on the planet Gun-Loc. Because of Gun-Loc’s remoteness
and relatively low-technology culture, it was not taken too seriously, but
as the rumours grew Commander Pepe thought it wise to send a scout to see
what was going on.”
The image on the view screen changed to a picture of Jodi Funk Junky, a
seventh-class bounty hunter. It was accompanied by her vital statistics,
and a list of her likes and dislikes.
Peter the Ace continued. “Six months ago Jodi Funk Junky arrived on
Gun-Loc. She made several transmissions during the first few weeks of her
mission, but nothing has been heard from her since. Although the information
she sent back was vague and full of inconsistencies and spelling errors,
it was obvious that something seriously menacing was going on there, and
that it had been going on for decades rather than years.”
The image on the view screen changed back to the view of Gun-Loc and its
“Two weeks ago Panman and myself arrived in the Gun-Loc system, accompanied
by Ross Mental with his ship, the Morbid. Ross Mental’s mission was
to carry on Jodi Funk Junky’s mission and infiltrate the cult. Our
mission was to investigate reports of a massive mining operation on the
planet’s moon – an operation that had been delivering unusually
large amounts of quadrillium-tritanium alloy down to the planet.”
Ginny the Screech ‘n’ Wail Mistress made an observation. “A
backwards world like Gun-Loc could not create such an alloy.” She
shrieked. “There’s no way they could create a containment matrix
pure enough to allow the metallic fusion to stabilise, at least not for
more than a few nanoseconds.”
Peter the Ace smiled, impressed at the lesser bounty hunter’s scientific
knowledge. “Exactly. And that means that a superior technological
race was responsible. What’s more interesting is that, on her last
transmission, Jodi Funk Junky commented that the metallic fusion was one-hundred
“She must be mistaken.” Sebastian Blood said. “Even the
palace’s metallurgists can’t create a perfectly stable quadrillium-tritanium
“Very true,” Peter the Ace said. “But it is theoretically
Sebastian Blood thought for a second. “If a perfectly stable quadrillium-tritanium
alloy was created it would be the strongest known material!”
Peter the Ace nodded. “Indeed it would. And due to its natural stealth
properties, anything made of it would be virtually undetectable. This was
demonstrated rather effectively to Panman and myself four days ago as we
approached the moon. We hit a mine constructed of quadrillium-tritanium,
which became embedded in our hull. It eventually detonated, destroying our
engine section, and proving that even the Blenheim’s sensors could
not detect it. That is why it’s essential that we stop the flow of
quadrillium-tritanium down to the planet, and more importantly, find out
what it’s being used for.”
Ginny the Screech ‘n’ Wail Mistress laughed and shook her chains
with delight. “I’m ready to heave to it and blister some hides!”
The others nodded in agreement.
“That’s good to hear.” Peter the Ace said. “Now,
Panman will brief you on your duties.”
Panman looked up. A spicy stoolbeetle leg hung from his mouth. “What?”
“It’s time for you to brief them on their duties.”
“Oh yeah!” Panman wiped his mouth with a napkin, and then got
to his feet. He replaced Peter the Ace at the view-screen.
Peter the Ace took a seat next to the warrior babes and helped himself to
a tall banana smoothie.
“Right,” Panman said, picking some meat from between his teeth.
“This is what we’re going to do. Suzanne Nag-Witch and Ginny
the Screech ‘n’ Wail Mistress, you are both going to stop all
that quadrillium-tritanium getting to Gun-Loc. This must be done discreetly
– we do not want to alert suspicion of those receiving the goods.
It must look like some sort of manufacturing problem.”
The two warrior babes wriggled with delight. Once again, the rattling of
chains filled the room.
“Sebastian Blood, you will accompany Ace and me and attempt to find
Ross Mental, whom we’ve been unable to contact for two days. We have
a feeling he’s found what he’s been looking for. Hopefully we’ll
find our cyborg assistant, too.”
Sebastian Blood nodded. “No problem.”
The conference chamber door slid open. Jemima Murma entered carrying another
tray of mouth-watering snacks. “Just in time!” She said sweetly,
noticing that the two trays she had left earlier were almost empty. She
placed the tray she was carrying down on the table, bowed politely, and
then left the room.
Panman drooled at the lip-smacking delights before him – resistance
was futile. He dived at the table. Within seconds his mouth was stuffed
with lard-ridden food.
Peter the Ace laughed. “We’ll, I guess that rather ‘brief’
briefing is over!”