Pys Phecees, the Fump-Fester lump-being, squatted like a dung pile at the large
domed porthole window. He watched with satisfaction as thousands of brainwashed
recruits far below worked hard to finish the emitter.
From this height, high up on the ceiling of the emitter’s colossal
underground chamber, individual recruits looked like nothing more than little
red dots, and groups of them no more than smears on and around the giant
Everything was going to plan. The emitter itself was already functional,
and in only one more day all components of the sub-space funnel would be
installed and operational. And in less than six days the opportunity to
fire would finally arrive. This thought filled the lump-being with huge
sense of joy. From the folds of his leathery brown body his mouth appeared
and spread into an incredibly wide smile. Drool escaped, and dribbled over
his fat lips.
It had taken Pys Phecees twenty years to recover from his horrific injuries
after the ferocious bounty hunter attack on his world – how he had
survived was still a mystery, even to him. That fateful day had seen the
destruction of his beloved Fump-Fester society – a society whose noble
cause was to purify the galaxy and eliminate all inferior civilisations.
All remnants of his world, his cause, and his species, were wiped out. All,
that is, but him. And for the last seventy years he had patiently and methodically
planned and implemented his plan for revenge. Soon the bounty hunters would
be purged from existence, enabling his society’s noble cause –
the purification of the galaxy – to be resurrected and put into action.
A dull tone sounded.
Pys Phecees turned from the porthole window. Clenching his fat legless buttocks,
he waddled towards a control console, leaving a trail of dark defecation
in his wake.
From behind a stone column, a young humanoid female appeared. Dressed in
a long red gown, and holding a bucket and a small shovel, she proceeded
to scrape up the defecation on the smooth stone floor.
Pys Phecees reached the control console. An image on the console displayed
a humanoid figure cloaked in black. The figure was wearing a featureless
spherical helmet. The lump-being extended a stumpy hand from the side of
his body and touched the console. “You may enter, Supervisor Tyrsum.”
At the far end of Pys Phecees’s personal chambers an arched door opened.
The cloaked figure entered and walked across the room, halting beside the
wide shallow pool of syrup at the room’s centre.
“What is it?” Pys Phecees demanded. His huge tongue slapped
across his lips, splattering saliva across the control console and the surrounding
Supervisor Tyrsum bowed, and then spoke. “Master, some unusual items
have been found in recruit preparation chamber nine.”
Supervisor Tyrsum reached inside his cloak and produced two items. “This
is just a small selection of what we found.” He held them up. “The
first is an item of clothing made of chain mail. It appears to generate
its own energy field – possibly some kind of deflection system. The
second is a belt covered in advanced equipment that repels our scans, mainly
weaponry and sensory devices, we think.”
Pys Phecees’s large black eyes blinked furiously and then narrowed.
“Interesting. What other items did you find?”
“Various pieces of clothing – all heavily armoured, especially
the boots. And more weaponry, including a pistol of some kind and a heated
The lump-being sighed, gargling phlegm. Saliva dribbled down his chin. He
sank down into his buttocks. “We have been infiltrated, Supervisor
“That’s impossible,” the supervisor said. “We have
perfect security in place…”
“Don’t be so arrogant!” Pys Phecees shouted. His tongue
slapped furiously, launching spit in all directions. A large lump landed
on Supervisor Tyrsum’s helmet. “It is such over-confidence that
caused this infiltration in the first place!”
The supervisor bowed. “Forgive me, master. This is the first time
this has happened. It is only natural to become complacent and…”
The lump-being calmed himself and spoke more quietly. “There is only
one group of individuals that I know of who carry such advanced equipment.
I have expected this for some time. Do you know which recruit owned these
Supervisor Tyrsum nodded. “Yes, master.” He turned and operated
a control on his wrist. On the side wall of the room a large display-screen
faded to life. The image of the emitter’s dish appeared. The image
zoomed in rapidly to a section of the dish’s rim. Two recruits were
working there. One recruit was welding; the other – a large and ungainly
looking being - was carrying equipment. “The man welding is recruit
76-675. He is the recruit who was wearing the equipment and clothing. He
arrived with the larger recruit next to him. Both were brought here by recruiter
The lump-being squinted as he watched the display-screen. The recruit who
was welding removed his welding mask and looked up. The strength, confidence,
and complete lack of fear in the man’s expression confirmed Pys Phecees’s
suspicions. The lump-being looked at Supervisor Tyrsum. “Arrest them
both immediately – maximum restraints. Then bring them to me.”
The supervisor bowed. “Yes, master.”
“And publicly execute the one that recruited them.”
The lump-being waved the supervisor away. “Dismissed.”
Supervisor Tyrsum turned and walked briskly out of the room.
Pys Phecees waddled round the control console and slid into the pool of
syrup. He sighed as the warm soft fluid soothed his fat aching buttocks.
He turned, and noticed that his faeces-scraper was staring at the display-screen.
Her mouth hung open. She was obviously surprised about something. More importantly,
she was not doing her job. “Clean up my excrement!” he demanded.
She blinked, and then looked at the lump-being. “Yes, master. Forgive
me.” She knelt down and got back to work.
Pys Phecees watched her, curious. It was the first time she had forgotten
her duties since she had joined his faeces-scraper team almost six months
ago. It was odd that she should do it now. After a few moments thought,
the lump-being dismissed her lapse as incompetence. She was only a humanoid,
after all. He relaxed and spread his leathery flabby body into the syrup.