Hunninaught

In them far-flung corners of Planet Lemhar, where the air hung thick with desperation and the neon glow of vice painted the city, there arose a crafty sugar peddler known as Hunninaught. By his side stood his partner in crime and brother, Geehaught, who led him down the tempting path of Royal Synthi-Jelly dealing. Cheaper to brew and more intoxicatin’ than the usual stuff, this bewitching brew swept through Lemhar’s downtrodden corners like a tornado of temptation.

Hunninaught and Geehaught reckoned it was prime time to set up shop at The Crater, a creaky old space port on Lemhar’s moon, and make it their fortress. They weren’t the gentle persuading type—no sir. They employed a bit of rough and tumble, using violence and strong-arming to win cooperation. Tenants and shadowy figures alike were cleared out, terrorized and vaporized right there in the streets for all to see. Over time, Hunninaught’s kingdom expanded, and the Royal Synthi-Jelly craze reached a fever pitch. 

Now, a young Space Detective named Breccia harbored a yearning to bring Hunninaught to justice, but the space force boys were scared stiff to go against him and his ilk. So, in a tight spot, Space Detective Breccia hatched a plan and summoned Agent Duhann, an undercover cop serving a suspension for shootin’ an unarmed soul during a bungled Jelly deal. Breccia sweet-talked Agent Duhann into infiltratin’ Hunninaught’s operation, partnering with another weathered space lawman, C’kni Juds’on.

Into this fortress of vice, a mob runner named Kienfra trotted in to deliver a message from the Zertoid mob. It turned out Hunninaught had been slippin’ on his payments, and the mob wanted their cut. But Hunninaught, being no fan of threats, scornfully sent Kienfra packin’ minus an antenna or two. Kienfra didn’t like being disrespected and spilled the beans to General Toetearno, the Zertoid mob boss.

While Agent Duhann and Space Cop Juds’on observed from the shadows, Hunninaught, that sly sugar baron, was doling out vittles to the hungry and downtrodden in the streets below. Among the destitute, Kiepo, a young soul Agent Duhann had shot in the hind leg during the turmoil of a Jelly deal gone bad. Kiepo found himself on the receiving end of Hunninaught’s dubious charity. Feeling the weight of guilt, Agent Duhann hatched a plan and recruited Kiepo, endeavoring to pull the lad away from the seductive clutches of Syntha Jelly. He weaned Kiepo off the stuff and molded him into a mole, a secret agent in the heart of Hunninaught’s operation.

Kiepo, now a lowly worker in The Crater, scrubbed out the air locks under the employ of Geehaught. With each sweep, he gathered intel like an elderly gossip hound. Eventually, he spilled the juice to Agent Duhann, detailing the ins and outs of the moon base and the intricate web of Syntha Jelly distribution. Kiepo, climbing the menial job ladder, found himself in the less-than-glamorous role of toilet scrubber. Yet, Geehaught harbored suspicions about the lad, he didn’t like the way he limped around all the time.

In the Jelly distribution realm, Kiepo, tempted by the mesmerizing allure of the substance, started to sneak sips, falling prey to addiction once again. His behavior grew obnoxious and erratic. Geehaught, keen as a space hawk, stumbled upon a surveillance device, unraveled Kiepo’s clandestine role, and promptly flung him out the airlock to suck vacuum. Sensing danger, Geehaught initiated an evacuation and triggered the self-destruct sequence, setting the base on a trajectory toward obliteration.

As Geehaught’s was dealing with Kiepo, Agent Duhann and his squad snuck in thru a conveniently unlocked hatch, navigating the winding corridors in a desperate search for evidence. Time ticked away, and with mere seconds to spare, they made a daring escape. 

An enraged Hunninaught, a tempest of fury, aimed his threats at Geehaught, laying bare the fractures in their criminal enterprise. The Crater was no more and everything they built was on the verge of collapse. 

Hunninaught, fuming like a star on the verge of collapse, spewed forth threats at his partner-in-crime, Geehaught. The air crackled with tension, and the shadows of impending conflict cast long across the lunar landscape. A dance of betrayal and retribution was set in motion, and the drama unfolded with all the intensity of a supernova on the brink of explosion.

Now, with Kiepo dead, Agent Duhann was racked with guilt and vowed to keep on the trail, even if Space Detective Breccia warned against it. Space Cop Juds’on threw in his chips to help out. They wrangled Kienfra who wanted payback for his missing antena into arrangin’ a meetin’ with Geehaught, posin’ as big-shot sellers lookin’ for a side deal.

Geehaught, ensnared in the allure of Syntha Jelly’s gravimetric grip, engaged in a discourse with Hunninaught. Amidst the neon glow of their clandestine meeting, Geehaught  worked to change the mind of Hunninaught, confessing that Agent Duhann’s product surpassed their usual fare in terms of purity and potency.

Hunninaught, shrewd and calculating, pondered this revelation. The prospect of a better product stirred the greed and opportunity in his mind. In a decisive move, he opted to strike a deal, laying out the terms of engagement. However, in the 3D chess game of their partnership, Hunninaught didn’t merely propose a business transaction; he threw down a life-or-death ultimatum before Geehaught, a gambit that would reshape the fate of their criminal empire.

Agent Duhann, slick as an eel hunter from thoten, worked his way deep into the trust of Hunninaught. Like a guardian angel, he shielded the sugar peddler from the wrath of a riled-up local oxygen merchant, weaving a cloak of loyalty around them.

Seeds of suspicion were sown by Agent Duhann, casting shadows on the once-unbreakable bond between Hunninaught and Geehaught. One evening, under the celestial canopy atop a observation pod, Hunninaught, perhaps swayed by the trust he had invested in Agent Duhann, began to unveil the dark secrets of his sordid past.

As the moonlight painted the scene, Hunninaught confessed to a sin that had stained his hands in the early days, when he was but a greenbug in a gang. The orders were clear: take a life, a stranger’s life, no less. Fate, that whimsical celestial spinner, had a surprise in store. The stranger he had disintegrated with cold determination, as the winds of destiny would have it, turned out to be none other than the mother of Agent Duhann himself. The revelation hung in the air like the echoes of a rocket’s exhaust fading into the vast night, marking a moment of profound irony.

Amidst the swirling drama, Space Cop Juds’on, a seasoned lawman with a starry-eyed past, delicately picked the lock to Hunninaught’s safe during a raucous shindig. Like a robotic speed sorter, he shuffled through the contents, uncovering financial records that held the secrets of Hunninaught’s nefarious dealings.

However, the dance party escalated into a fervor when the Zertoid mob, disguised as caterers, crashed the party with blasters ablaze, aiming to settle old scores. The fracas echoed through the chamber, a symphony of chaos set against the backdrop of lunar decadence.

In the midst of a disco of death and destruction , Agent Duhann, perched on the balcony with a clear shot at Hunninaught during the gunplay, found himself frozen in a tableau of moral quandary. His gaze locked onto Hunninaught, who callously used a child as a shield to slip away from the hail of laser beams.

The recycled air carried the weight of betrayal, and as the moon dust settled, a full-scale war erupted between Hunninaught and General Toetearn’s gang. The theater of deceit and retribution erupted into violance, leaving a trail of bodies that reverberated through the lunar corridors.

During the ruckus, Geehaught squared up to Hunninaught, leveling the finger of accusation.  “Are you forsaking the brood ties of Family?”. In a fit of fraternal wrath, Hunninaught, overtaken by the fury of the moment, disintegrated Geehaught into less than cosmic dust. 

Agent Duhann and Space Cop Juds’on, like salivating bloodbugs on the scent, traced Hunninaught’s steps to his pod. Quick as a comet’s streak, Hunninaught, sensing the approaching reckoning, made a run for it. Yet, the pursuit was unyielding, with Agent Duhann launching himself at the fleeing figure. Their tangle ended in a spectacular crash through a second-story viewport, with Agent Duhann meeting his fate, impaled on a radio spire, and Hunninaught limping away into the lunar shadows.

With the cosmic dragnet closing in, both the forces of law and the mob breathing down his neck, Hunninaught, gripping nothing but his lucky Honey keg, faced the pressing need to make a speedy exit from the hubbub of Planet Lemhar. He set course for the unassuming haven known as Earth, a backwater rock in the vast cosmic expanse, aiming to carve out a fresh beginning.