Repugnius, a foul, grey and windy planet was the central world of the Odious Sector. Its smog ridden atmosphere hid the surface from space and the continuous rainfall had forced each of its twelve cities to be built upon huge platforms, the only way to avoid constant flooding.

The capital city, Hadus, was a huge, decadent place. It stretched for over four hundred miles in all directions and stank of well worn socks. Thousands of towers, hundreds of metres tall had been crammed into the cities central districts creating a totally overbearing feeling in the streets below. These buildings housed the headquarters of some of the most powerful and corrupt gambling organisations in the entire galaxy. The tallest, more than two kilometres high, was the central control complex of the Ken Kasino Corporation, the most powerful of them all. With over twenty six thousand Ken Kasino Club outlets spread throughout the core systems, this company alone had control of almost sixty percent of the market.

Right in the heart of Hadus, amongst the vile, flea infested market stalls of the poverty stricken city dwellers, was one of the smaller Ken Kasino Clubs. Some of the most deadly of beings frequented this place. From the hairy wart people of the Smear System with their forty inch biceps and poisonous acne to the small martial arts maniacs of the Wan-Tang Worlds, this casino had them all.

Trog-Head was one of the ugliest, sweat monsters ever seen. It waddled heavily passed the crowded blackjack and roulette tables and headed towards the bar. Trog-Head had not always been this way. Over three centuries ago, on a faraway planet called Earth, two sad computer science students, Jenny Trog and Richard Head had been working on a project that was to revolutionize the program compiler industry. One stormy evening, as they both embraced each other passionately in a computer lab at Reading University, lightning struck. They were both fused together into a repugnant creature of devastating grotesqueness. One month later, a United Nations committee discussed the unfortunate accident and unanimously voted to have 'it' banished from the planet. Trog-Head, as it was now called, was bundled into an interstellar space probe and propelled into space at outstanding speed. It eventually crash landed on Abominax, Hadus's nearest neighbour. Trog-Head has dwelt within the Odious Sector ever since.

"What can a git ya Troggy?" The old bartender asked, trying hard not to vomit at its nauseating appearance.

"Get me a coffee." Trog-Head grunted in two voices. "And don't call me Troggy!"

It's huge, flabby right arm swung forwards and smashed into the bartenders face. He fell to the floor; blood spurting from all three of his nostrils. He got up, dazed and confused.

"Sorry!" The bartender said quietly and proceeded to get Trog-Head's drink.

"If you bleed in it I'll sit on your face!" Trog-Head said coldly.

"’Ere we go." He said as he nervously placed the mug of coffee in front of Trog-Head. "Tha'll be six credits, please."

Trog-Head paid the bartender and then spat in his face. Green, putrid bile dribbled down towards his chin. He immediately puked violently through his nose and mouth.

"Don't mess with me." Trog-Head said. It walked away leaving the bartender sobbing amongst several pounds of semi-digested hog fat.

Trog-Head sipped noisily at the coffee.

"Hey, Trog-Head!" said a voice from behind.

Trog-Head turned around, ready to swipe. A tall, heavily muscled man stood before it. He was wearing an immaculate grey suit and a radical shirt and tie that changed colour several times a second. It was Goater, Ken Kasino's personal assistant.

"What do you want Goater?" Trog-Head asked, annoyed at being interrupted.

"Mr Kasino wants to see you." He replied without emotion.

"I'm busy." Trog-Head said stubbornly.

Goater reached inside his jacket and pulled out a small fusion pistol. He aimed it at Trog-Head's gut and flicked a switch on its side. It began to hum quietly.

"He wants to see you now." Goater said, again without emotion.

Trog-Head reluctantly agreed. It headed for the doorway, closely followed by Ken Kasino's assistant. The rain pelted hard against the walkway outside.

"Get in." Goater said, pointing to a sleek blue ground car.

Trog-Head squeezed awkwardly into the back seat. In the distance, the Ken Kasino corporation skyscraper towered high into the swirling smog, dominating the grim skyline. Goater sat in the driver’s seat. The car powered up and accelerated away drenching several fat pygmy priests as it motored through a large, oily puddle.

"Bukoshg farachg mar!" squeaked one of them, shaking his fist vehemently. The translation was way to disgusting to print.

Ken Kasino stood by the huge window of his penthouse office four hundred and sixty levels above the scum ridden streets. Two skycars passed by and descended into the polluted haze below, their blue navigation lights blinking obediently. Ken was a short, evil dude. His thick, dark hair, hardened face, and jet black shirt, tie, suit and floor length cloak made him very fearsome looking indeed. A gentle bell sounded.

"Enter." Ken said. His voice was rough and deep, the result of decades of tobacco abuse.

The large double doors opened and Trog-Head and Goater walked in.

"Trog-Head!" Ken said calmly. "How nice of you to come to me so promptly."

"What do you want with me?" It asked, twitching nervously.

"Do you remember Lawrence?" Ken asked.

"You mean Lawrence, the most evil man ever to have lived?" Trog-Head said.

"Yes."

"Yeah, I remember him. Didn't he perish several years ago?"

"It was assumed by everyone that he had died painfully in the great Bar-Tok uprising, instigated by the bounty hunters of the Palace of Amino." Ken turned to face Trog-Head. "I now know that he escaped that conflict alive."

"How do you know?"

"He communicated with me this morning."

Trog-Head shivered. Ken walked back over to the window and continued.

"Virtually all of his armies were wiped out. He has spent the last few years rebuilding them to gigantic size. He is now ready to penetrate the defences of the central worlds and take over from Lord Gastronemus as supreme ruler of the galaxy."

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Trog-Head asked.

"He has informed me that two bounty hunters of extreme strength and cunning are on their way here in the hope of finding and destroying him. They are the same bounty hunters that almost destroyed him last time."

Ken pushed a few buttons on his desk and two faces appeared on a large view screen on the far wall.

"Their names are Peter the Ace and Panman." Ken turned and looked Trog-Head straight in the eye, "I want you to obliterate them - completely!"

"How?"

"Use your imagination."

Ken, once again, walked over to the window. In the distance a large passenger vessel could be seen thundering into the dark clouds above. "Succeed," Ken said, "and you will be well rewarded."

"What if I fail?"

Ken turned, his cloak billowed behind him. "You will be..." He paused for a second. "Dismantled slowly whilst remaining completely conscious!"

Trog-Head shuddered.

"Go!" Ken said assertively. "They are expected soon."

Trog-Head walked heavily out of the office. Goater followed The doors closed behind him.

Ken sat down at his desk. He frowned. Ever since the apparent death of Lawrence, Ken had enjoyed complete control of the criminal underworld. That control would now soon be over. He slammed his fist hard onto the desk top and cursed silently.