Peter the Ace, Panman, and Ross Mental looked down through the large oval viewing window into the lower cargo bay. The bay doors were fully open and the emptiness of deep space clearly visible.

A few dozen metres below the open doorway was the warrior babes’ ship, the Drug Abuser. The ship was gently nudging something swollen and repulsive. It was the seemingly lifeless lump-being, Pys Phecees.

The door to the viewing room opened. Jemima Murma entered; her baggy sky blue nightgown billowed around her. She was carrying a large bucket of popcorn. “I thought you’d like a snack to help you enjoy the show.”

Panman grabbed the bucket. “What a cool idea!” He said, scooping out a huge handful. He crammed the popcorn hard into his mouth. Fragments scattered across the room, ricocheting off the window.

Jemima Murma smiled, and then headed out of the room.

“Stay and watch, if you like.” Peter the Ace offered.

“Thank you.” The Blenheim’s assistant said sweetly. “But I must get back up to the Hooded Whore. Sebastian Blood requires more of my… services.”

Peter the Ace spoke sternly. “You are the assistant on board this vessel, not the Hooded Whore.”

Jemima Murma bowed her head. “Of course. Please forgive me. I assumed that my services extended to your guests, as well as yourself and Panman.”

Peter the Ace grinned. “Correct! Just a little test. Please return to your duties. But don’t over exert Mister Blood, we may need him later on.”

Jemima Murma bowed once more, and then quickly left the room.

“That Sebastian Blood is one lucky fucker!” Ross Mental announced.

Panman pointed down into the cargo bay. “Look! The lumpy duded is almost in.”

The unconscious lump-being was now floating right at the doorway to the bay.

Panman activated the communicator. “One more hard shove should do it.”

“OK.” Ginny the Screech ‘n’ Wail Mistress shrieked. “Here we go.”

With a quick burst of its thrusters, the Drug Abuser gave Pys Phecees one last nudge. The lump-being tumbled cleanly into the cargo bay. Immediately, the artificial gravity field of the Blenheim took hold, sending the lump-being crashing to the floor.

Panman laughed. “Nice work, warrior babes!”

“No problem.” Ginny the Screech ‘n’ Wail Mistress screamed. “It was fun!”

With a dexterous sweep of his right hand Panman touched the close button for the cargo bay door. As soon as the door was closed, Panman pressurised the bay.

“Right.” Peter the Ace said, heading for the door. “Let’s go down and cage our corpulent friend before he awakes.”

The lump-being’s thick hide looked pallid and lifeless.

“He looks like a fuckin’ goner to me.” Ross Mental said, kicking Pys Phecees with his new left leg. The lump-being shuddered with the force of the impact. “Just a pile of dead meat.”

Panman pulled out a small medical scanner from his utility belt and pointed it in the direction of the lump-being. “He’s still alive – barely. He should recover.”

Peter the Ace was stood in front of the large rust-coloured cage at the other side of the bay. He operated a small control panel at one corner. With a hiss, whirr, and clunk, the powerful locking mechanism of the cage released. The cage’s heavy door swung open slowly.

Peter the Ace stood to one side. “Right. Roll him in.”

Ross Mental and Panman began pushing on the blubbery mass of Pys Phecees. The lump-being rolled over like a sodden bean bag, flopping onto his buttocks. The two bounty hunters pushed again. This time, the rolling action squeezed out a burst of cloudy duodenal gas.

Ross Mental screwed up his face. “Ugly smelly fat fuck!” The foul-mouthed bounty hunter said with disgust. He kicked the lump-being hard. The force of the kick rolled Pys Phecees half way over.

“Good idea!” Panman said. He gave the lump-being another hard kick to keep up the momentum. Pys Phecees rolled over twice, coming to rest at the lip of the cage door.

Peter the Ace grabbed the back of the lump-being’s thick head. “Let’s get him inside.”

Ross Mental and Panman grabbed hold of the lump-being’s body. In unison, the three top class bounty hunters lifted, and then crammed Pys Phecees awkwardly through the cage door. With a final shove, the lump-being was thrown onto the hard cage floor. A dull clang echoed around the cargo bay.

Peter the Ace manipulated the control panel on the cage. The cage door swung shut, locking with a thunderous whirr and clank. The cage bleeped twice. “Let’s hope that the cage is strong enough to hold him.”

“No problem.” Panman said. “If that giant diseased cow couldn’t escape, that wind-breaking evil dude certainly can’t.”

“Good point.” Peter the Ace said. “Well, I guess our work here is done.”

Panman agreed. “I guess it is. Bit of an anti-climax really. The real fun is going to be back at the palace when that emitter fires. That’s going to be one mother of a show!”

Ross Mental nodded. “I hope someone remembers to record the whole fuckin’ thing!”

“No problem there.” Panman said. “The palace’s defence systems will automatically record everything from several thousand different positions both inside and outside the palace, and then store the data in a deep archive hundred of kilometres away. Even if the palace is destroyed we’ll still be able to view then whole event.”

“Fuckin’ cool!”

Peter the Ace activated his communicator. “Drug Abuser. The lump-being is secured in the cage. You both did a great job getting that fat thing into our cargo bay. Dock with our lower port and come onboard. It’s time to reward ourselves with a little celebration.”

“Oh! Thank you.” Suzanne Nag-Witch replied. “It will be an honour!”

“I’m sure it will be. Blenheim out.” Peter the Ace looked in the cage containing the unconscious Pys Phecees. He sighed, “You know, I’ve lost interest in that large and revolting wind-breaker.” He turned to Panman. “But what I am interested in is that extra patient you said you’d found for the cyborg construction unit.”

Panman nodded. “Oh, yeah! She’s cool!”

“Excellent! Let’s go and have a look, shall we?”