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 white dish.

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 floor.

Supervisor Tyrsum bowed, and then spoke. “Master, some unusual items have been found in recruit preparation chamber nine.”

“Explain.”

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 dagger.”

The lump-being sighed, gargling phlegm. Saliva dribbled down his chin. He sank down into his buttocks. “We have been infiltrated, Supervisor Tyrsum.”

“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…”

“Silence!”

“Yes, master.”

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 items?”

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 9-488.”

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.”

“Yes, master.”

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.