There are billions of stars, millions of planets, but there is only one man, Terrance McDoogal. Welcome to LIU Atlas. 


                                                              LIU Atlas - Buccina
The Ludgonian Industrial Union's galaxy contains billions of stars and billions of planets. Unfortunately, most residents of the LIU could only name a handful of these worlds. In order to improve astronomy grades across the LIU Galaxy, TV2 has started a new program called LIU Atlas. Follow our host, Terrance McDoogal, as he takes you on a tour across the LIU and some of its more obscure worlds.


Note: This episode is presented in full screen. The corresponding dialogue is underneath each photo.

Doog: "Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I'm your host Terrance "Doog" McDoogal. Today we're visiting Buccina, another world in the Blattarius Halo. Buccina is a cold planet dominated by flat, endless deserts. The majority of Buccina's economy revolves around mining, but I'm told there are other areas of interest. I guess we’ll have to descend to learn what that’s all about."

Doog: "Alright folks, I've been dropped off on a landing platform inside the confines of Fort Buxum. The fort protects mining interests in this area. Because Buccina is so remote, it is subject to occasional raids from pirates and other criminal organizations. Hopefully, I'll be safe inside the fort."

Brontes: "Safe indeed. I'm Brontes Steropes, Director of Mining Operations here on Buccina." 
Doog: "Great to meet you. Who's this other guy?"
Brontes: "Oh, this is Agite, my assistant. He doesn't speak Basic, so he's not much of a talker. To be honest, he's not much of an assistant either. Seriously, all he does is follow me around. He's pretty useless."
Doog: "You're preaching to the choir when it comes to useless coworkers. So, tell us a little about your operation on Buccina."

Brontes: "Buccina is abundant in an alloy called Unthueric Brass, and we mine it. It's pretty straight forward."
Doog: "Urethra Brass? Is that different than normal brass?"
Brontes: "Brass is an alloy of copper and zinc. Types of brass can vary depending on the differing percentages of copper, zinc, and other additives. Unthueric Brass is one such variation."
Doog: "What makes Urethra Brass so special?"
Brontes: "It's actually Unthueric Brass, not urethra. It's special because it is nearly frictionless, making it an ideal casing for ammunition."
Doog: "Ah, I see why it's so protected now."

Doog: "Uh...speaking of protected…is this the safest place to be standing?"
Brontes: “Relatively safe. We only average about two crush deaths a year, so the odds are in our favor.”
Doog: “Comforting.”

Doog: “So this is the special brass?”
Brontes: "Yes. Mined Unthueric Brass is transported via train cars to the fort's landing platform, where it is transferred to cargo ships and taken off world. We don’t do any of the processing here."
Doog: “So, we’ve started at the end of the operation?”
Brontes: “Yes. If you’ll follow me, we’ll see where it all begins.”

Brontes: “The lack of tectonic activity and strong eroding winds have shaped Buccina’s surface into featureless flatlands.”
Doog: “This section hardly looks flat.”
Brontes: “Exactly. There are a few exceptions. These pits, or lowlands, are called ‘Howl Caverns’. They’re formed when wind erosion opens up tunnels or caves into the surface.”
Doog: “Did you say ‘howl caverns’?”
Brontes: “Yes, a name derived from the natives. On windy days, a howling noise emanates from the caverns. The noise is created by the wind altering the air pressure within the cavern, or Helmholtz Resonance. The natives, of course, are not familiar with this scientific principle, so they see the sound in a more spiritual light. These howling caverns play a big role in their culture.”
Doog: “How so?”
Brontes: “We’ll get to that in a bit. Let’s focus on the mines for now.”

Brontes: “The wind-eroded tunnels stretch deep into Buccina’s crust, giving us access to the abundant Unthueric Brass within. These naturally formed caverns or tunnels extends hundreds of miles into the crust.”

Brontes: “Because the mines are so deep, we had to import workers that were capable of surviving long durations within the mine.”
Doog: “Are those Aleans?”
Brontes: “Yes. On Alea, they stay in the mines for months at a time. They’re well suited for these conditions.”
Doog: “I know. I’ve been there. Wait, does that mean there are casinos here?”
Brontes: “No, unfortunately.”

Brontes: “This place is known as the Condenser Point. Here, Unthueric Brass from all the various branches of the cavern come together to be loaded onto train cars. Large, mechanized, lifting belts make it easy work.”
Doog: “Looks like some pretty standard mining stuff...which is sort of boring, to be honest. I’m more interested in this ‘howl’. I don’t hear anything.”
Brontes: "The phenomenon is difficult to hear with all the loud machinery. We’ve also altered the tunnel with various structures, and they too dampen the sound. If you want to experience the howl, we’ll need to venture out of the fort and head to one of the untarnished caverns.”
Doog: "I'm game."

Brontes: “Are you sure you’re up for this? We’ll be leaving the safety of the fort.”
Doog: “I guess. This show isn’t going to make itself. If I stay here with the boring mining stuff, I might lose the six viewers I have left.”

Doog: “I mean…it can’t be too dangerous. We’ll have soldiers with us, right?”
Brontes: “No. The soldiers are here to protect physical assets, not guys like us.”
Doog: “I’m having some serious second-thoughts right now.”

Doog: “If any of you guys feel like going AWOL, now’s the time. A little desertion never hurt anyone.”
Brontes: “The penalty for desertion is death, I believe.”
Doog: “Doesn’t mean it hurts. Besides, the penalty for us going alone might be death.”

Brontes: “Relax. It’s not really that bad. Pirates haven’t raided this place in decades. I’d be more worried about the natives than anything else.”
Doog: “Oh great…more to worry about. Could you perhaps pile a bit more on? Are there five-hundred foot centipedes or something?”
Brontes: “Nothing like that. There’s some pretty big lizards though.”
Doog: “Lizards…wonderful…”
Brontes: “Most have been domesticated by the natives, so there’s no reason to worry about them.”

Doog: “Ok…I thought we were leaving the fort. What’s this?”
Brontes: “This is Tau Depot, the fort’s trading post. It’s located just outside the actual fort. It acts as a liaison point between the LIU and the natives. It’s where we conduct our trade with them.”

Brontes: “This is Arges Steropes, my brother. I appointed him Trade Delegate.”
Arges: “The gift that keeps on giving.”
Brontes: “Hey, I know it’s not easy, but you needed a job. Be grateful.”
Doog: “What happened to you?”
Arges: “A trade dispute with the natives. Guy ripped my arm clean off and then broke my back beating me with it.”
Brontes: “It was just one of a handful of negative contacts with the natives. He never mentions the hundreds of positive contacts.”
Arges: “Forgive me, brother. Some incidents tend to be more memorable. Like the one with the arm and broken back…or the one with the fractured skull…or the one with…”
Brontes: “Ok, ok. I get it. I didn’t have a choice. The LIU wanted a Cyclopian delegate. They figured we’d have more in common with the natives. If it makes you feel any better, I’m here to take this TV reporter to see the howl caverns and the natives. Maybe, I’ll finally experience one of these negative contacts and you can rub it in my face.”

Arges: “Well, in that case, I’d be glad to speed you towards your demise. I have three Hover-Bikes available. I trust that will be sufficient.”
Brontes: “Should be. Doog, can you drive one of these?”
Doog: “Well…I drove one once, but…I crashed immediately.”
Brontes: “Uh...”
Doog: “I’ll figure it out. There’s not much to crash into out here, right? You were saying something about endless flatlands. Besides, the only thing I’ll end up hurting is myself.”
Brontes: “Yourself, our Hover-Bike, Agite, and possibly me…maybe you should just ride with me.”
Doog: “If you insist. I mean, riding behind you might chafe my rashes, but I guess that’s better than crashing.”
Brontes: “Did you say ‘rashes’? Uh…how about we give you a second chance on the Hover-Bike. I’m sure that last crash was an anomaly.”

Brontes: “I really must insist that you use two hands. You’re drifting closer to me.”
Doog: “I can’t. I have to hold my microphone.”
Brontes: “Can’t you hold it in between your legs or something?”
Doog: “The region between my legs is already busy holding something else.”
Brontes: “What? I didn’t see you carrying anything other than your mic.”
Doog: “It’s something very personal to me. Something valuable. Some say it’s little, but I usually describe it as average.”
Brontes: “Wow…are you talking about your wiener?”
Doog: “What! No! No one describes that as little. I’m talking about my cellphone.”

Brontes: “If you get any closer, I’m going to make you buy me dinner. Lean to the right.”
Doog: “How about you lean to the left? I’m doing just fine here, I don’t want to mess up doing some advanced maneuver, like leaning right.”
Brontes: “It’s literally the easiest maneuver. Like, the first day of Hover-Bike school kind of easy.”
Doog: “Not all of us have your fancy school degrees.”
Brontes: “It’s not a degree! It’s basic common sense! Haven’t you ever ridden a normal bike?”
Doog: “Not all of us grew up in fancy little towns with bike trails.”
Brontes: “We’re almost here. I’m done arguing with you.”

Brontes: “Slow it down. Don’t make any quick movements. The natives are easily spooked. In fact, let’s just stop and let them pass. Oh, and don’t look them directly in the eye.”
Doog: “Their eyes are like...eighty percent of their face. Where should I look?”
Brontes: “I don’t know, just not their eye!”
Doog: “I’m going with the groin stare. It might send mixed signals, but it’s plenty far from their eye.”
Brontes: “Whatever works.”
Doog: “So, what can you tell us about the natives?”
Brontes: “They’re a nomadic people. They travel in caravans, like this, in search of vegetation and water. They’ve domesticated a native lizard species, and they use them as beasts of burden. Many tribes construct small cabins or covered chambers on top their mounts for shelter.”
Doog: “Tribes?”

Brontes: “Yes. The Buccinans travel around in small family units that we call tribes. They are generally built around groups of sisters. The females have a blue skin pigmentation to stand out and attract males, so the sisters are easy to spot. The males are a much duller green color.”
Doog: “This will probably sound offensive, being that you’re a Cyclopian, but how does a species evolve one eye? I was always told two were better.”
Brontes: “No offense taken. My people are familiar with the two-eye bias. Sometimes, one eye is better. Two eyes allow for better depth perception, but one eye can see further. It’s more telescopic. In the case of the Buccinans, it was a better way to find mates at long distances. Because there are so few features on the planet surface, the Buccinans use their one, telescopic eye to see vast distances.”
Doog: “I guess it’s better for navigating these plains. I couldn't find my way back to the fort if my life depended on it.”
Brontes: “Actually, the Buccinans evolved an even better way to navigate…by using sound.”
Doog: “Sound to navigate?”
Brontes: “Yes. The planet’s ‘howl’ caverns vary in depth and size which gives each one a distinct sound. The Buccinans can differentiate these sounds and can use them to triangulate their position. That’s why the Buccinans see these caverns as holy. Each one is like a beacon.”

Brontes: “Alright, here’s one of the caverns. You can probably hear this one a bit easier.”
Doog: “Yeah, for sure. It’s kind of angelic. I probably would have seen the cavern as holy too, if you didn’t ruin it with science earlier.”

Brontes: “The Buccinans use the caverns for navigation, but they also serve as a communal gathering places. Here, various tribes come together to trade, find mates, and exchange members.”
Doog: “Are they smoking something? Are those bongs? Ooh, ooh, pick me! Pick me! Trade for me! I want to be in the bong clan!”
Brontes: “Shhh! Don’t disturb the natives! Besides, those aren’t bongs. They’re musical instruments.”
Doog: “Instruments?”
Brontes: “Yes. The Buccinans produce two of the galaxy’s greatest wind instruments. They’re crafted from a form of brass called Windscale. Like I said before, the ‘howl caverns’ play a large role in the Buccinans spiritual system. They’ve constructed these instruments to mimic the angelic howls of the caverns.”
Doog: “Oh, that’s cool. Not bong-level cool, but cool.”

Brontes: “The larger instrument is called a Buccana. It has a low-pitched, echoing sound. It’s considered a bass instrument.”
Doog: “And it’s popular around the galaxy?”
Brontes: “Absolutely. It is an integral part of orchestras around the galaxy.”

Brontes: “The Buccana is a beautiful instrument, no doubt, but it pales in comparison with its much smaller cousin, the Buccini. The Buccini is Universe renowned”
Doog: “What makes it so special?”
Brontes: “Listen to it. It sounds like a whole choir of heavenly voices.”
Doog: “That noise is all coming from that little thing?”
Brontes: “Yes. It’s a wind instrument, but its sound closely resembles a synthetic voice. It’s quite amazing.”
Doog: “I can see why it’s so popular. Does the LIU mass produce the Buccini now?”
Brontes: “They wish. The Buccini and Buccana must be handcrafted. Their construction is an art form known only to the Buccinans. The LIU has tried to reproduce the Buccini many times, but they have never succeeded. It never sounds close to the same. The LIU is forced to trade with the natives to acquire the instruments.”
Doog: “Ah, makes sense now. That’s why your brother is a Trade Delegate. It’s his job to get Buccinis from the natives.”
Brontes: “Yes, and they don’t part with them easily either. Well, you’ve seen how my brother looks…”

Brontes: “Uh, I wouldn’t touch that if I was you. You haven’t bartered for it. Remember the things Arges was saying about arms being pulled off?”
Doog: “Relax. I just need it a minute. Well folks, Buccina is an interesting place. It’s home to a mining industry that collects a rare form of bronze that ends up being turned into ammunition. It’s also home to an interesting race of one-eyed beings called the Buccinans. The Buccinans use the sounds of the ‘howl caverns’ to navigate their featureless homeworld. They also make some of the galaxy’s best wind instruments, like this Buccini here. Well, I better return this before I get my arm ripped off. See ya!”


Note:

Doog: “Get the hover-bikes ready!”
Brontes: “As long as you don’t ride alongside me again…”

Credits
Created by: Ludgonious
Executive Producers: Ralph DuBreuil , legolifty

CLICK HERE FOR NEXT EPISODE - Season 8 - Episode 10 - Caecus Station #29

There are billions of stars, millions of planets, but there is only one man, Terrance McDoogal. Welcome to LIU Atlas. 


                                                              LIU Atlas - Collybus
The Ludgonian Industrial Union's galaxy contains billions of stars and billions of planets. Unfortunately, most residents of the LIU could only name a handful of these worlds. In order to improve astronomy grades across the LIU, TV2 has started a new program called LIU Atlas. Follow our host, Terrance McDoogal, as he takes you on a tour across the LIU and some of its more obscure worlds.


Note: This episode is presented in full screen. The corresponding dialogue is underneath each photo.

Oldie: “Gather around guys. Mike and I have good news for once.”
Cam: “We’re actually getting paid this season?”
Oldie: “Well, hopefully, but that’s not the news.”
Doog: “You won the lottery? And you’re going to give all of us a cut?”
Mike: “Uh no. I’m pretty sure you’d never see us again if that happened.”
Timbo: “It’s something to do with money. Just tell us.”
Oldie: “Our requisition request for more supplies finally came through. It only took five years and they only sent a quarter of what I requested, but we’re now the proud owner of two hundred credits.”
Doog: “Heck yeah! What are we waiting for? Where’s the nearest brothel?”
Mike: “It doesn’t work that way. I asked.”
Oldie: “We’ll need receipts for everything we purchase. They must be related to the job.”
Doog: “Where’s the fun in that?”

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting Collybus, a rogue asteroid on the inner rim of the Blattarius Halo. Collybus was once abundant in Osmium, an element vital to the collection of dark matter. A large mining facility was built into the asteroid to extract this valuable element. However, when the element was exhausted, the facility was abandoned.”

Doog: “Collybus underwent a rebirth recently when it developed a new purpose. Its prime location in the center of several halo worlds made Collybus a perfect supply depot. Goods from the inner galaxy are shipped here to be distributed to the worlds of the Blattarius Halo. Collybus also imports goods, primarily dark matter, from the halo worlds and ships them into the galaxy. Collybus has gone from being abandoned to one of the halo’s most important worlds. We’ve come here to buy supplies and restock the Magellan.”

Cam: “Does anyone else feel bad leaving Hugo behind again?”
Doog: “No.”
Mike: “Sort of, but it’s his job. No one feels bad leaving me to filter audio hours on end.”
Oldie: “Yeah. No one feels bad leaving me to do what I do…whatever that is.”
Doog: “Let’s try not to start this day off feeling bad for anyone. Shopping is supposed to be fun. It might be another five years before we get to do this again.”
Cam: “Do we have some type of plan here? Or is it just a shopping spree?”

Oldie: “I figured we’d break up into smaller groups and get some predetermined items.”
Doog: “We’re going to have to split up. This place is huge.”
Mike: “It smells like paradise in here.”

Oldie: “It’s…it’s…a food court.”
Mike: “Food as far as the eye can see…”
Doog: “Anyone up for a two hundred credit food binge?”

Cam: “How much pizza can we get for two hundred credits?”
Doog: “Depends on how much ice cream we want for desert?”
Mike: “Let’s start with a dozen pizzas and four gallons of ice cream. I want to save some money for burgers.”
Doog: “Ooh, let’s not forget tacos.”

Oldie: “Let’s not get too crazy. Everything is marked up in these food courts. We can get a lot more if we buy the supplies to make our own meals.”
Doog: “When did you get all responsible?”
Oldie: “When I saw there’s no pony soup in this food court…”
Cam: “He’s right though. Maybe we should shop for other supplies before we blow all our cash here. We can always come back.”

Doog: “Fine. Are we still dividing up into teams? If so, I call Mike.”
Oldie: “I’m not sure that’s a great idea.”
Mike: “Why?”
Cam: “No offense, but Mike’s easily manipulated…especially when Doog is involved.”
Mike: “What! No I’m not!”
Doog: “Even if he is, too bad. I called it. We all know the rules. When it comes to the crew, debate and common sense always play second fiddle to the first call. I believe there is precedent here.”

Oldie: “Fine, but you better keep your receipts. Remember, everything you buy better be legit. Purchases have to involve work or work supplies, otherwise, it comes out of our pay for the year. Got it?”
Mike: “On second thought, I didn’t realize the stakes were so high…”
Doog: “Just say ‘got it’.”
Mike: “Got it.”
Cam: “Oh man…we are screwed.”


Doog & Mike

Mike: “A barber shop? Why are we stopping here? Are we buying combs or something?”
Doog: “No, of course not. I’m getting a haircut.”
Mike: “Haircuts aren’t supplies, Doog.”
Doog: “It’s work related though. We need the TV Host to look good, right?”
Mike: “I don’t know if that’s really in the spirit of the agreement.”
Doog: “You know, the audio-man needs a haircut too. We wouldn’t want your hair to drape over your ears and diminish our show’s audio quality.”
Mike: “I could get one too?”
Doog: “Well yeah. It’s work related.”
Mike: “Fine. Let’s do it.”

Hairdresser: “What can I do for you sir?”
Doog: “I don’t know. How does one improve upon perfection?”
Hairdresser: “Huh?”
Doog: ‘Just a little trim, please.”

Mike: “Just a trim? I’m getting the works: cut, highlights, and a style.”
Doog: “I thought about getting the works too, but then I noticed something that changed my mind.”
Mike: “What’s that?”
Doog: “Well, don’t you find it a bit disconcerting that none of the hairdressers here actually have any hair of their own.”
Mike: “I didn’t even pick up on that…oh well, shouldn’t matter. I’m sure they’re trained.”

Mike: “I think they went a tad overboard with the highlights. Be honest, how does it look?”
Doog: “Honestly, I going to need you to walk at least ten paces behind me the rest of the trip.”
Mike: “Oh come on. It’s not that bad. Besides, yours isn’t much better.”
Doog: “I know. I know. I asked for a trim, but somehow I feel my hair is longer. Don’t even get me started on how much hair gel I’m rocking right now. I could ride a hover-bike without a helmet.”

Oldie, Cam, & Timbo

Cam: “This is the lamest grocery store I’ve ever been in. Where’s all the meat?’
Timbo: “It’s not so bad. Looks like they have some pretty fresh food. Everything looks organic too. It should be better than the usual gruel we eat.”
Cam: “Hey, meat’s organic too.”
Oldie: “Relax. I got an inside tip. This grocer is the only store that stocks…”

Oldie: “…pony soup! Yes! Found it!”
Cam: “Let’s look at the label…pure, organic pony soup. Made from free range ponies that died of old age. No suffering, no preservatives. This stuff is expensive.”
Oldie: “Who cares? It’s pony soup, my favorite.”  
Cam: “You are aware that not everyone in the crew loves pony soup like you, right? I mean, it’s ok, but I’d like to get some other stuff too.”
Timbo: “Yeah, I’d really like to stock up on some fresh veggies.”
Cam: “No, not veggies. I’m talking Kaadu steak. Real man food.”
Oldie: “Pony soup is the only meat this place sells. So you can side with Timbo and eat grass or you can back me and eat a meaty, delicious soup.”
Cam: “Sigh…pony soup it is.”

Oldie: “Excuse me! Cashier! Is this the biggest size you have? Do you have anything in barrel size?”


Doog & Mike

Mike: “I’m not going to lie. I’m eager to learn how you plan on justifying alcoholic beverages as supplies.”
Doog: “Well…it could be used as a stress reliever. I guess. That seems important and work related.”
Mike: “I don’t know if that’s going to cut it.”

Doog: “The really hard stuff might pass as medical supplies. You know, as a disinfectant.”
Mike: “That’s a stretch.”

Doog: “Wine, in moderation, has shown some health benefits. They want us to make shows as long as possible, don’t they?”
Mike: “I’m not sure we could convince the producers that you do anything in moderation. Also, I don’t like wine.”

Doog: “I don’t know. Isn’t two guys getting the worst haircuts of their life justification enough? I mean…look at us.”
Mike: “Trust me, I’d like to drown my sorrows as well, but the LIU isn’t going to agree. I do like the medical angle, though. We’re going to need to get something really strong to pull it off though.”
Doog: “They have starshine on the shelf behind us. It doesn’t get any stronger than that.”
Mike: “As much as I’ve grown attached to my teeth, esophagus, and stomach…starshine might actually work.”
Doog: “We’ll take three starshine bottles please.”

Oldie, Cam, & Timbo

Cam: “Did we really stop at a store called ‘Stuff’?”
Oldie: “Why not? We need stuff.”
Cam: “Can’t argue with that.”

Oldie: “This is not what I was expecting.”
Timbo: “Oh, I get it. Stuff…like stuffed animals.”
Cam: “I don’t think these are fun, cuddly stuffed animals. I think these are literally stuffed animals. Like taxidermy or something.”
Oldie: “Well, there’s nothing we need here. Let’s move on.”

Cam: “I wouldn’t say nothing. Looks like they have some stuffed spiders. We might have finally found a way to get Doog out of bed.”
Timbo: “As much as I love the idea, I’m not sure how it qualifies as supplies.”
Oldie: “Screw it. I’ll pay for it out of my own salary. Get two.”

Doog & Mike

Mike: “Alright. We seriously need to buy one thing of actual supplies. Here’s a supply store.”
Doog: “Many decisions have been made here.”
Mike: “Huh?”
Doog: “You see what’s next to the supply store, right? There’s a ‘fun end’ massage parlor. On one end, we have supplies, on the other…fun endings.

Mike: “There’s no way you’re getting me inside there….”

Mike: “Why do I always listen to you?”
Doog: “Because I’m always right?”
Mike: “I’m not sure that you’re right this time. I didn’t realize our ‘fun end’ massage was going to be in the same room as each other. It’s kind of weird. The robot massagers with the male voices don’t make it any better. I’m at the point where I’d rather have gotten supplies.”

B4-U812: “I am B4-U8, deep tissue relations. I am fluent in over six million forms of body manipulation. I hope you found everything satisfactory. We will now proceed with your fun end: One day I bet a butcher 500 credits that he couldn’t reach the Kaadu meat on the top shelf. He declined, the stakes were too high.”
Guy: “Haha. Thanks.”

Doog: “Apparently the ‘fun end’ is a joke. Didn’t see that coming.”
Mike: “I must admit…I’m somewhat relieved. Although, the risk we took getting a massage instead of supplies is all in vain. There’s no real reward now.” 
Doog: “We get a massage and we get to hear a joke. That’s something.”

Oldie: “What the heck happened to you two?”
Doog: “We may have indulged in some totally job-related haircuts.”
Cam: “Since when are boy band makeovers considered job-related?”
Mike: “You really think I could pass for a boy band member? Sweet.”
Doog: “The host needs to look good, it‘s for my job. I don’t know why Mike got one. You should probably dock his pay.”
Mike: “What! Traitor!”
Oldie: “Is that all?”
Doog: “We may have also gotten some medical supplies…in the form of Starshine. It‘s a natural disinfectant or something.”
Oldie: “Why did we let you pick Mike?”
Doog: “Oh, and we may have paid for a joke seminar, you know, to polish up my TV persona.”
Cam: “Yeah…I see those all being rejected by the LIU.”
Doog: “Well, what did you get?”
Oldie: “A three month supply of pony soup!”
Cam: “It should be noted that the soup is organic and from recently deceased ponies. It taste twice as bad as regular pony soup. And…it’s all we have to eat for the next few months.”
Doog: “Sounds like another successful supply run. Good job guys. I‘m off to bed. I‘ll let you guys carry all the supplies onboard.”

Doog: “Ahhh! The beds are infested with giant spiders! Everyone run!”
Cam: “Hehe.”
Oldie: “So worth it.”

Doog: “Well folks, Collybus is an interesting place. It houses a huge supply depot that is sort of reminiscent of a large mall. This place has all the supplies anyone out in the Blattarius Halo will ever need, including food, alcohol, and massages. Massages with a joke at the end. No, not a choke, a joke. You can also get a haircut here too, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Well, I was going to get a much needed nap in, but it appears our ship was infested with spiders during our absence. The bathroom will be my new housing for the time-being. It should work out ok though, I’ll need to sleep in the shower a few days to get all this gel out of my hair. Oh well, see ya!”


Note:

Cam: “How long do you think this will work?”
Oldie: “I’m betting we’ll have exhausted our pony soup supply way before he ever figures it out.”
Mike: “Figures what out?”
Cam: “No one tell him! He couldn’t keep it from Doog.”
Mike: “Keep what from Doog? You guys can trust me. I don’t do everything Doog says. Let me put this Starshine away; we’ll talk about it.” 

Credits
Created by: Ludgonious
Executive Producers: Ralph DuBreuil , legolifty

CLICK HERE FOR NEXT EPISODE - Season 8 - Episode 9 - Buccina

There are billions of stars, millions of planets, but there is only one man, Terrance McDoogal. Welcome to LIU Atlas. 


                                                               LIU Atlas - Fimbria
The Ludgonian Industrial Union's galaxy contains billions of stars and billions of planets. Unfortunately, most residents of the LIU could only name a handful of these worlds. In order to improve astronomy grades across the LIU, TV2 has started a new program called LIU Atlas. Follow our host, Terrance McDoogal, as he takes you on a tour across the LIU and some of its more obscure worlds.


Note: This episode is presented in full screen. The corresponding dialogue is underneath each photo.

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the remote, jungle world of Fimbria. Fimbria and its star, Vel Fimbriam, rest in the outermost fringe of the LIU Galaxy, just inside the Blattarius Halo. In fact, Vel Fimbriam is generally considered to be the galaxy’s most distant star, at least, from the galactic center. What will we find out here in the fringes of the galaxy? Let’s find out. ”

Doog: “Alright folks, I’ve been dropped off in a small city on the shoreline of a large lake. It’s certainly a jungle world. It’s hot, humid, and overgrown in foliage. It even smells like a jungle world - like an old, sweat filled tennis shoe that’s been sprayed with flowery air freshener. Or better yet, like my hotel room after that mermaid adventure on Malicanum. Or perhaps, like that one time on Pravus…well, you get the point. It doesn’t smell great.”

Doog: “This lakeside village is known as Arbuste Vivant. It one of several small villages on the shore of this massive lake. The town houses the native Fimbrian race. The Fimbrians are a sentient plant species. They’ve evolved from one of the planet’s carnivorous plants. It’s rare that a plant species reaches this level of sentience, considering that most plants lack brains, but somehow the Fimbrian managed it. I’d like to find out more, but my guide does not seem to want to come down these stairs. We’ve been having a ten minute stand-off, literally. I guess I’ll be the bigger man…after I wait another ten minutes.”

Doog: “Hey, I’m Doog, the guys that’s been waiting for you down on the dock for the last twenty minutes.”
Ya-Te-Veo: “I  am  Ya-Te-Veo. I  apologize  for  my  tardiness. My  biology  requires momentary  pauses  to  re-energize.”
Doog: “Re-energize?”
Ya-Te-Veo: “Like  all  living  creatures  classified  as  plants, my  body  utilizes  photosynthesis  to make energy. Therefore,  I  must  cease  movement  on  occasion  to  allow  my  energy  reserves  to  be  restored.  Photosynthesis  is  an  efficient  power  system  for  many  living  things,  but  it  is  not  well  suited  for  quick  movements.”
Doog: “It’s not well suited for talking quickly either, apparently. I have a feeling I’m going to be here for a while.”

Doog: “So, the members of your species are walking, talking plants. How did that come about?”
Ya-Te-Veo: “Fimbria  is  abundant  in  water  and  sunlight,  but  its  soil  lacks  sufficient  amounts  of  nutrients.  Competition  for  the  rare  nutrients  led  to  an  outbreak  of  evolution  that  we  call  the  Great  Fimbrian  Arms  Race.”
Doog: “Arms race? Like a war?”
Ya-Te-Veo: “An  evolutionary  war,  I  suppose.  The  winners  of  this war  were  species  that  could  derive  nutrients  from  alternative  sources,  mostly  via  predation.  Some  species  evolved  the  ability  to  make  fast  motions  to  capture  prey.  Others  utilized  deadly  chemicals  to  kill  prey  that  came  too  close.”
Doog: “Where did your species fall on this spectrum? I’m guessing you’re not the fast movement sort, given how slow you seem to talk. Wait, does that mean you're poisonous? Am I in danger?”
Ya-Te-Veo: “No  need  to  worry.  I  am  not  poisonous.  My  species  developed  a  third  alternative.  We  became  mobile.  We  were  not  as  fast  as  the  quick  strike  species,  but  deadly  in  our  own  right.  This  course  of  action  led  to  many  of  our  current  adaptations.  Light  sensitive  cells  developed  into  more  advanced  eyes,  allowing  us  to  plot  courses  to  our  prey.  Our  moving  roots  and  branches  slowly  changed  into  legs  and  arms.  Of  course,  the  coordination  of  these  new  features  required  the  development  of  a  brain.  It  was  a  simple  brain  at  first,  but  over  the  millennia,  it  has  evolved  to  be  quite  large.”
Doog: “If your head size is any indication of this brain, then I concur.” 

Doog: “So, you’re plants that actually eat stuff?”
Ya-Te-Veo: “Eating  may  not  be  the  proper  term.  We  do  not  derive  energy  from  the  prey  we  catch,  only  minerals  and  nutrients.  We  get  all  our  energy  from  photosynthesis.  Animals  are  captured,  killed,  and  then  left  to  decay.  We  then  ingest  their  rotten, putrefied mineral  soup.”
Doog: “Well, I guess that’s where the smell is coming from.”

Doog: “Do you eat any of the plants?”
Ya-Te-Veo: “Again  we  do  not  eat.  Even  if  we  could  eat,  we  would  still  avoid  most  of  the  plant  species  here.  While  we  have  developed  some  immunities  to  their  poisons,  they  can  still  be  dangerous.”
Doog: “Well, that’s comforting to know…since, you know, I have zero immunities.”

Doog: “Well, shall we continue on?”
Ya-Te-Veo: “…”
Doog: “Uh, hello?”
Ya-Te-Veo: “…”
Doog: “Oh great, recharging again.”

Doog: “Alright, the plant-man finally woke up and rejoined us. We’ve descended the platform and we’re now riding on a catamaran. Water travel is preferred here. It allows the Fimbrians to avoid unnecessary encounters with the planet’s poisonous plants.”

Doog: “So where are we headed? To another village?”
Ya-Te-Veo: “We  will  pass  through  a  village  as  we  head  towards  our  destination,  but  it  is  not  our  intended  target.  We  are  heading  south  towards  the  science  station.”
Doog: “Science station, huh? Is that your economy?”
Ya-Te-Veo: “I  wouldn’t  say  it  is  really  ‘our’  economy.  My  people  have  a  cooperative,  resource  sharing  economic system.  We  work  for  the  survival  and  benefit  of  our  species  and  society.  The  science  station  was  installed  by  the  LIU.”

Doog: “Whoa, whoa. Slow it down their buddy. Don’t talk too much. Last thing I need is for you to space out for a re-energizing session in the middle of this boat ride. Who knows where we’ll end up? I mean, I don’t know how to steer this thing.”

Ya-Te-Veo:  “Relax.  This  is  where  the  boat  ride  ends.”
Doog: “Ends? Here? I don’t see anything.”
Ya-Te-Veo: “Yes.  That’s  because  we’ll  have  to  continue  on  foot  for  a  few  miles.”
Doog: “On foot? Through the poisonous stuff? I thought you said that was dangerous.”
Ya-Te-Veo: “It  is.  Stay  on  the  path.  Avoid  contact  with  any  plants.”
Doog: “Oh great…”

Ya-Te-Veo: “Take  particular  care  near  these  red  plants.  My  people  know  them  as  Endolori,  but  their  name  in  basic  is  Pain  Fingers.  Their  long  finger-like  appendages  are  capable  of  quick  movements,  and  they  can  deliver  painful,  poisonous  strikes.”
Doog: “Oh, you mean the wriggling red fingers of pain all around the path? That should be easy to avoid…”   
Ya-Te-Veo: “They  are  not  that  difficult  to  avoid.  They  strike  when  movement  is  detected.  Move  slow.”
Doog: “I’m going to die here, aren’t I?”
Ya-Te-Veo: “Their  poison  is  not  deadly,  but  the  painful,  itchy  rashes  they  give  you  will  make  you  wish  you  were  dead.”
Doog: “Oh, very comforting. Thanks.”

Doog: “I can’t believe I actually made it to the Science Station without getting fingered…uh…that came out wrong. Sooo…changing the subject…what do you guys do in this station?”
Ya-Te-Veo: “Come  inside.  There  is  much  to  see.”

Doog: “Bio W. Danger. Wait…is this a biological weapons lab?”
Ya-Te-Veo: “Yes.  In  fact,  it  is.”

Ya-Te-Veo:  “As  you  have  discovered  throughout  our  journey,  many  of  the  plant  species  here  have  advanced  chemical  defense  systems.  The  LIU  harvests  the  more  promising  species  to  cultivate  their  poisons.  The Endolori’s  poison  is  used  in  area  denial  situations,  like  riot  suppression.”
Doog: “Sounds brutal.”

Ya-Te-Veo: “Some  of  the  planet’s  other  plant  species  are  even  more  brutal,  but  the  exact  species  and  their  capabilities  are  classified.”

Ya-Te-Veo: “Let’s  just  say  that  the  LIU  has  weaponized  over  forty  Fimbrian  plant  species.  They  range  from  military-grade defoliants  to  irritants  to  mass-casualty bombs.”
Doog: “Are  they  legal?”
Ya-Te-Veo:  “Yes.  Many  are  illegal  to sell  or  use,  but  perfectly  legal  to  stockpile.  You  never  know  when  they  will  come  in  handy.”

Ya-Te-Veo:  “Of  course,  the  LIU  is  still  experimenting. There  are  thousands  of  poisonous  plants  on  Fimbria.  The  LIU  has  just  scratched  the  surface.”
Doog: “Experimenting on people!”
Ya-Te-Veo: “Prisoners,  mostly.  In  the  LIU’s  eyes,  they  are  not  necessarily  people.”

Doog: “Hey! Prisoners and former prisoners are people too.”
Ya-Te-Veo: “Perhaps.  It  is  not  for  me  to  decide.  We  generally  only  test  non-lethal  poisons  on  prisoners,  if  that  eases  your  worries.”
Doog: “Except for the part where you said ‘generally’.”

Doog: “More WMD crops?”
Ya-Te-Veo: “Not  entirely.  These  are  Éclator,  or  Bursters.  When  ripe,  their  fruiting  bodies  explode,  spreading  their  genetic  material  in  all  directions.”
Doog: “How is that useful outside the porn industry?”
Ya-Te-Veo:  “The what?”
Doog: “Never mind. What are Bursters used for?”

Ya-Te-Veo:  “The  Éclator’s  genetic  material  doesn’t  always  find  other  Éclator,  but  it  doesn’t  matter.  The  Éclator  seed  has  strong  mutagenic  properties.  If  it  lands  on  another  plant,  the  mutagens  begin to  convert  the  plant  into  a  genetically  acceptable  mating  partner.”
Doog: “Huh?”
Ya-Te-Veo: “The  Éclator  plant  temporarily  converts  the  reproduction  systems  of  other  plants  so  they  are capable  of  hybridization  with  the  Éclator.  Essentially,  every  plant  species  on  Fimbria  has  an  infusion  of  Éclator  genetics.  It  also  means  that  new  plant  species  and  hybrids  are  always  being  created.  Along  with  resource  competition, this  rampant  hybridization  is  responsible  for  the diverse  plant  life  here.   It  is  a  remarkable  organism.”

Doog: “Don’t tell me…more experimentation…”
Ya-Te-Veo: “Yes.  The  Éclator   mutagens  have  been  discovered  to  be  compatible  with  human  genetics.”
Doog: “So you’re making mutants!? Why?”

Ya-Te-Veo: “The  humans,  like  the  plants,  are  only  temporarily  mutated  by  the  Bursters.  Just  long  enough  to  breed  Human-Éclator  hybrids.”
Doog: “I’ve been involved in some pretty weird ‘hybrids’, but this is just crazy.”
Ya-Te-Veo: “Not  crazy.  Imagine  the  possibilities. They  would  share  the  characteristics  of  both  species.  Imagine  hybrid  soldiers  with  immense  strength  and  speed  with  plant-like  regenerative abilities.  Imagine  hybrids  that  can  breathe  both  oxygen  and  carbon  dioxide.  Imagine  hybrid  soldiers  with  both  photosynthetic  and  metabolic  energy  production  that  would  never  weaken  or  tire.”
Doog: “This sounds like some fringe science here. Hybrid soldiers? Really?”
Ya-Te-Veo: “It  is  not  fringe.  It  has  already  began.”
Doog: “Then why do you keep saying ‘imagine’?”

Ya-Te-Veo: “Because  so  far,  the  hybrids  have  been  less  than  desirable.  The  hybridization  needs  tweaking.”
Doog: “What’s wrong with them? They look fine to me. I mean, they’re creepy plant people, no offense, but they seem to be alive and healthy.”
Ya-Te-Veo:  “It  appears  the  hybrids  inherit  genes  from  the  Éclator  that  make  them  highly  violent  towards  un-hybridized  species.”
Doog: “Like me and you.”
Ya-Te-Veo: “Not  me,  but  definitely  you.  At  some  point,  my  species  must  have  inherited  some  Éclator  genes.   The  hybrids  have  killed  several non-Fimbrian researchers.  Now  they  can  never  leave  these  cells.”

Doog: “You don’t look so bad.”
Hybrid: “HOLLOW BAG OF MEAT AND FAT, IT SICKENS ME TO LOOK AT YOU. PLEASE REMOVE YOUR REPULSIVE, STRUCTURELESS BODY FROM MY SIGHT.”
Doog: “Ok. Maybe a little bad.”
Hybrid: “I CAN SEE YOUR BLOATED FAT TISSUES WIGGLE WITH YOUR EVERY MOVEMENT - LIKE SACKS OF CONGEALED SAP. IT IS A WONDER YOUR SPECIES HAS SURVIVED THIS LONG. YOU ARE FAR FROM SUPERIOR. RELEASE ME AND I WILL END YOUR SUFFERING. I PROMISE YOUR FAT WILL FEEL NO PAIN.”
Doog: “Gee, you’re going a little strong on the fat shaming. Maybe’s there’s a market for you guys as life coaches or personal trainers. I mean, you’d have to stay in some sort of cage to avoid the murdering, but you might be helpful. What do you think, Ya-Te-Veo?”
Ya-Te-Veo: “It  would  not  be  safe.  The  hybrids  could  produce  more  hybrids  and  spread  across  the  galaxy.  We  must  not  let  that  occur.  These  samples  will  be  incinerated  after  being  studied.”

Doog: “Well folks, Fimbria is a pretty interesting place.  There’s lots of interesting plant-life here, including the sentient Fimbrian race.  Most of these unique plants are highly poisonous and dangerous; some have even been weaponized by the LIU. The freakiest thing here has to be these Éclator plants that force other species into hybridization.  They’re even compatible with human DNA, so they’re being used to create a Human/Éclator hybrid. Seriously creepy stuff.  Let’s just say that some fringe science is being conducted here in the fringes of the galaxy. See ya!”
Ya-Te-Veo: “Doog,  I  understand  that  you  wanted  an  interesting  last  shot,  but  you  should  use  caution.  You  are  standing  in  a  Endolori patch.”
Doog: “Totally worth it. Journalism always comes first.”


Note:

Doog: “Totally not worth it. More calamine lotion, pronto.”
Mike: “You have like five layers on.”
Doog: “Well, I guess I need ten layers cause this really hurts.”
Oldie: “Could you at least put some pants on? You weren’t ever exposed to the plants there.”
Doog: "I did some scratching Oldie, especially in my favorite scratching place. I spread it everywhere...."

Credits
Created by: Ludgonious
Executive Producers: Ralph DuBreuil , legolifty

There are billions of stars, millions of planets, but there is only one man, Terrance McDoogal. Welcome to LIU Atlas. 


                                                                 LIU Atlas - A14-S25
The Ludgonian Industrial Union's galaxy contains billions of stars and billions of planets. Unfortunately, most residents of the LIU could only name a handful of these worlds. In order to improve astronomy grades across the LIU, TV2 has started a new program called LIU Atlas. Follow our host, Terrance McDoogal, as he takes you on a tour across the LIU and some of its more obscure worlds.


Note: This episode is presented in full screen. The corresponding dialogue is underneath each photo.

Doog: “Welcome to another special edition episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we're continuing our tour of the Blattarius Halo, by visiting the space station A14-S25. The station is located in the halo’s outer edge, but it’s much higher above the galactic plane than Nidavellir. It took us almost a week in hyperspace to reach this position above the galaxy. The station was positioned here so that it had line of sight access to the entire galaxy. Why is this important? Because A14-S25 is home to Galactic Radio.”

Doog: “Galactic Radio is the state-run radio station that broadcasts subspace radio signals across the entire galaxy. These signals broadcasts music, news, and emergency information to almost every world in the galaxy. Today, they’re broadcasting an interview with my crew and I. Hopefully, we’ll be able to tour the station for a little bit before our interview.”

Doog: “How do I look?”
Mike: “Seriously? Why you worried about that? We’re doing a radio show.”
Doog: “I don’t know. I’m nervous, I guess. We’ll have a galaxy-wide audience.”
Mike: “I think you’re overestimating the amount of listeners we’ll have. I mean, the station broadcasts galaxy-wide, but who listens to the radio these days.”
Cam: “Yeah, subspace radio is obsolete.”
Oldie: “What! It’s not obsolete! I listen to Galactic Radio all the time.”
Cam: “That’s because you’re old.”
Mike: “Yeah. You’re stuck in the olden days. HoloCorp and TV2 superseded Galactic Radio fifty years ago.”
Cam: “In other words, you‘re the only one of us that was alive when Subspace Radio was cool.”
Doog: “I’m not necessarily worried about the amount of viewers. I mean, I’m a famous TV host, I can handle any audience. I just don’t want to say anything stupid.”
Mike: “I’m pretty sure you’re screwed in that regard.”
Cam: “Yeah…hate to break it to you, but you say stupid stuff all time.”
Oldie: “Not to add to your worries, but you need to remember that the radio show is live. You won’t have Timbo to edit what you say.”
Doog: “Thanks for your support, guys. I really appreciate it.”

Doog: “Why does it smell like Obex in here?”
Mike: “Obex?”
Doog: “Yeah, like a mix of weed and box cows.”
Cam: “If what I’ve heard about Galactic Radio is true, then most of the employees here are space hippies.”
Doog: “Hippies? Out here?”
Cam: “This is perfect hippie territory out here. Far from society, surrounded by music, working in a fading industry that no one really cares about anymore.”
Doog: “Yeah, I guess. Almost makes me want to look for a job opening.”
Oldie: “ For the last time, Galactic Radio is not a fading industry!”

Windsong: “Hey friends. It’s totally awesome that you joined us here today. I’m Windsong, a disc jockey here at Galactic Radio.” 
Doog: “Nice to meet…”
Oldie: “Ooh! Oooh! Windsong! You’re my favorite!”
Windsong: “Thanks, man. You guys are my favorite too. You, like, travel all around the galaxy in a little ship. Very hippie-like.”
Doog: “Hey, there’s always room for one more. We might even leave Oldie here if he likes it so much.”
Cam: “Seems like a fair trade to me.”
Windsong: “That’s a groovy offer, friends, but I really love it here at Galactic Radio. I mean, like, I get to listen to sweet tunes almost all day. Come on, let’s get started with the tour. You’ll see what I mean.”

Windsong: “Galactic Radio’s radical range and reach has aided the music sales of millions of artists across the galaxy. As we journey through the station, you’ll see tons of records that we helped to go Rhenium.”
Doog: “Rhenium?”
Windsong: “Over a billion records sold.”
Doog: “Ah, nice. I never bought music before, so I’m not up on my terminology.”
Windsong: “Never?”
Doog: “Never. It’s too easy to get for free.”
Mike: “It’s not free when you steal it from me, Doog.”
Doog: “Whatever. So, what’s up with all the clocks?”
Windsong: “Oh, those? Well, like, Galactic Radio broadcasts to the entire galaxy, but we base our broadcast schedule on three of the LIU’s most populated worlds: Ludgonia, Fornacis, and Tressis.”

Windsong: “So, this place is truly awesome. This is, like, the technical side of subspace radio. Here, our broadcasts are condensed. It’s totally, like, easier to transmit condensed information. Groovy, huh?”
Doog: “Groovy indeed.”
Windsong: “Galactic Radio broadcasts five different signals. Signal 1 is the audio version of TV2’s Galaxy News. So, like, news and stuff. Signal 2 is the Emergency Broadcast signal. It’s only activated during emergencies. Oh yeah, signals 3 to 5 are music channels. I prefer four, it’s loaded with far out tunes.” 
Oldie: “Four is my favorite too. Easy listening and it has the galaxy’s best DJ, Windsong.”
Windsong: “Aw, thanks, man. I’m stoked you enjoy my show.”

Windsong: “I come here pretty often. I don’t know how most of it works, but I can stare at all these flashing lights forever. It might have something to do with all the psychedelics coursing through my veins though.”
Doog: “So is there some type of employment office on this station? I’m sold.”

Windsong: “It’s going to ruin my buzz, but I think that’s all the time we have. This is, like, the studio. These are the DJ’s that are going to interview you.”
Doog: “Who are they?”
Oldie: “What! Everyone knows these guys, it’s DJ Snot Rocket  and DJ Dreamfruit.”
Windsong: “Yep. Exactly, man.”
Doog: “Of course. I knew that. Stop making me look bad in front of Windsong, Oldie. I listen to Snotfruit and Dream Rocket all the time.”
Oldie: “You got their names backwards.”
Windsong: “Yeah. Not cool, man.”

Windsong: “When they go to commercial, we’ll, like, get you in there.”
Snot Rocket: “Alright brothers and sisters, it’s time to return from the Astral Plane. We have a special guest today. His name is Doog.”
Dreamfruit: “ Doog. Dooog. That name is far out, man. I, like, think we should journey back into the plane a few moments and think about that name. It, like, rolls off the tongue. Dooog.”
Snot Rocket: “Perhaps another time, my brother. For right now, let’s, like, go to a commercial. Then let’s talk to this Doog guy. Dooog. Ha. You’re right about that name.”

Snot Rocket: “Alright, galactic family. We’re back. We have, like, lots of special guests today. I thought it was just this Doog guy, but he brought some of his friends too. There’s Oldie, Cam, and Mike. My favorite far out babe, Windsong, has joined us too. Thanks for being with us today, dudes.”
Doog: “No problem, DJ Dreamfruit. We’re glad to be here. In fact, I might actually end up staying here. It’s pretty sweet here.”
Snot Rocket: “Cool, man. But, I’m DJ Snot Rocket. DJ Dreamfruit is over there.”
Doog: “Oh really? I thought for sure the green guy that looks like a booger was going to be the one called ‘ Snot Rocket’.”
Dreamfruit: “Whoa, dude. That’s harsh. You shouldn’t judge people on their appearances.”
Snot Rocket: “Yeah, totally. You’d think the guy with a face for radio wouldn’t be, like, so quick to judge other people’s looks.”
Doog: “Hey! There’s nothing wrong with my face!”
Dreamfruit: “Calm down, Snot Rocket. Like, don’t get on this Doog guy’s plane. I sense some bad vibes emanating from his plane.”

Doog: “I don’t have bad vibes!”
Snot Rocket: “He, like, even brought his own microphone to the interview. Like, he totally doesn’t want to use our microphones. He’s too good for us or something.”
Windsong: “Whoa. I can sense that now. Sorry brothers. I wouldn’t have brought him if I…”
Doog: “I always have my mic! Don’t you watch my show?”
Dreamfruit: “Not cool to interrupt a lady, man. You’re judgmental and rude. Like, I recommend that no one watches this dude’s show.”
Doog: “What! Screw you! No one listens to your show anyway. I‘m out of here.”
Oldie: “Just for the record, I listen. Also, LIU Atlas airs on TV2. Please watch it despite Doog. Uh…and have a nice day. PS, I love you Windsong.”
Windsong: “Aww.”

Doog: “I thought that went well.”
Cam: “Better than I expected.”
Mike: “Better than anyone expected, really.”
Oldie: “I got to meet Windsong, so there’s that.”
Doog: “So, you’re not mad?”
Oldie: “About what? I knew this was going fail walking in. You’re Doog. And it was live radio.”
Doog: “At least I can live up to your ridiculously low standards. Well folks, A14-S25 is a space station that rests above the galactic plane. It houses Galactic Radio which broadcasts subspace radio signals to all the worlds of the galaxy. It also rests above the astral plane because it is full of space hippies. Oh well, see ya!”



Note: A14-S25, like M31-P5, is named for the compressed star in the center of its Fusion Star Chamber. The star is too small to get an actual name, so it’s named for is coordinates, or location, in the galaxy. See M31-P5 for more details.

Credits
Created by: Ludgonious
Executive Producers: Ralph DuBreuil , legolifty
Get a Producer's Credit: Click Here

There are billions of stars, millions of planets, but there is only one man, Terrance McDoogal. Welcome to LIU Atlas. 


                                                                 LIU Atlas - Nidavellir
The Ludgonian Industrial Union's galaxy contains billions of stars and billions of planets. Unfortunately, most residents of the LIU could only name a handful of these worlds. In order to improve astronomy grades across the LIU, TV2 has started a new program called LIU Atlas. Follow our host, Terrance McDoogal, as he takes you on a tour across the LIU and some of its more obscure worlds.


Note: This episode is presented in full screen. The corresponding dialogue is underneath each photo.

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. For the next few episodes, we’ll be exploring the Blattarius Halo, a ring of dark matter that encircles the galaxy. The actual halo, itself, can not be directly imaged. Dark matter does not interact on the electromagnetic spectrum. However, the halo’s size and structure can be determined with gravitational measurements. It should also be noted that the halo is part of a much larger web of dark matter that fills the universe. This halo-like structure is not unique to the LIU Galaxy.”

Doog: “Our first destination within the halo is the planet, Nidavellir. Nidavellir is a rogue planet, meaning that it has no star. Nidavellir is positioned in the Blattarius Halo’s inner rim, where it orbits the galactic center directly. This position places Nidavellir in gravitational tug-of-war. The halo pulls the planet outward, while the galaxy pulls the planet inward. This constant gravitational battle has liquidized much of Nidavellir’s surface into lava.”

Doog: “Alright. I’ve been dropped off at a facility on the planet’s surface. Despite having no star, Nidavellir is blazing hot. This is due to its thick atmosphere and the constant eruptions of the planet’s molten lava. It’s relatively dark during the day. Other than the lava, the only source of light is the LIU galaxy. Although seen edge-on, the galaxy dominates the sky. You will also notice that I’m wearing an environmental suit. The atmosphere is thick, but it is loaded with poisonous sulfuric gases. In other words, this isn’t a nice planet. 

I’ve been told to meet my guide here. I’ve noticed that they wrote the word ‘wimpy’ over the door. That better not be a knock at me.”

Ul Brin: “Welcome to Nidavellir. I am Ul Brin of the Calx. You must be Doog.”
Doog: “Indeed, I am. So, I was pretty angry when I saw your ‘wimpy’ sign, but now I realize that was not a slight towards me. It’s a description of your little race. What are you, like four feet tall?”
Ul Brin: “Don’t let my size fool you. My silicon-based biology and bio-mechanical suit make me far from wimpy.”
Doog: “So it’s an insult towards me? Did my crew put you up to this?”

Ul Brin: “It’s not an insult. The sign doesn’t even say ‘wimpy’. It says ‘WIMP -Y’. WIMP being an acronym for Weakly Interacting Massive Particles, and Y stands for yellow. This is one of several facilities on the planet’s surface. Each is denoted by a color.”
Doog: “Weak Massive Particles…is that an insult? Are you calling me a wimpy fatty?”
Ul Brin: “Sigh…if I were to insult you, I would take the intelligence angle, given your lack of comprehension. For the last time, I’m not insulting you. WIMP’s are the particles that constitute Dark Matter.”
Doog: “Oh, ok. Gotcha. So, this facility deals with dark matter?”
Ul Brin: “Yes, in a way. Let’s head inside.”

Ul Brin: “This is Lab Y. Before you get offended somehow, lab is short for laboratory. I am not insinuating that you are a dog.”
Doog: “Psssh. I knew that.”
Ul Brin: “The lab’s primary function is the study of dark matter, specifically the collection of dark matter. The LIU has developed some methods, but they are not exactly cheap. We are trying to find better methods.”

Ul Brin: “This is a gravity map of the LIU Galaxy. The Blattarius Halo is clearly visible on the outskirts of the galaxy. We’ve closely mapped this halo to determine the best places to install dark matter collectors.”
Doog: “Install collectors? So, none of the dark matter is collected here on Nidavellir?”
Ul Brin: “Correct. Nidavellir is only the command center for dark matter collection. Because of our position on the inner rim of the halo, Nidavellir is not a good candidate for collections. Costs would be too high.”

Ul Brin: “Dark matter makes up approximately 26% of the universe’s entire mass/energy. It is highly abundant. If it was easy to collect, dark matter would have almost no value. There’s essentially a limitless supply.”
Doog: “I gather it is not easy to collect.”
Ul Brin: “It is not. It is a slow and expensive process. This limits the supply, raising its value. The LIU wants to be the first to find better collection methods, so they can take advantage of the high market prices.”
Doog: “I see. So, that’s all you do here? Coordinate dark matter collection and look for faster methods of collection? This is going to be a short episode.”
Ul Brin: “No. There is much more. Follow me.”

Ul Brin: “Nidavellir was chosen for this role for several reasons. For one, it is home to my species. We play an important role in dark matter collections. The cheapest process of collection produces enormous amounts of radiation. Most biological beings could not survive on a collector for very long. My race’s silicon-based biology is resistant to radiation.”
Doog: “I’m scheduled to visit one of these collectors soon, so that’s nice to know.”
Ul Brin: “Yeah, good luck with that. Anyway, Nidavellir is also home to an important mining industry. Turn left here.”

Doog: “What kind of mining do you do?”
Ul Brin: “Nidavellir has high concentrations of metals from the platinum group, specifically Osmium. Osmium is the densest naturally occurring element. Its rigidity, toughness, and durability is necessary in the construction of dark matter collectors.”
Doog: “I might start calling some of my crew members Osmium, because they are so freaking dense sometimes. Ha, I crack myself up.”
Ul Brin: “They are not alone in their denseness, I assure you.”
Doog: “Yeah…hey wait, are you talking about me?”
Ul Brin: “I’ve been accused of insulting you all day…I figured I would actually throw in a real one.”

Ul Brin: “I will continue on while you contemplate your comeback. The lava pits of Nidavellir are home to more than just Osmium. They are the primordial pools that my species was born in.”
Doog: “Ha. Got my comeback. You were born out of a hole! Wait. I guess technically, I was too. Hmmm. I‘ll come up with something,”
Ul Brin: “Take your time. Now, as I was saying, my species was born in pools like this. We would have remained there too, if not for the Lifters.”
Doog: “The Lifters?”
Ul Brin: “Yes. Let’s head back inside.”    

Ul Brin: “The Museid race, better known as the Lifters, also call Nidavellir home.”
Doog: “Which ones? The monkeys or the scary looking guys with the helmets?”
Ul Brin: “Not the monkeys, Mr. Osmium.”
Doog: “I was kidding, So, do these guys carry lots of stuff or something? Why are they called the lifters? ”

Ab Demwa: “Because we use advanced genetics to lift other species from pre-sentience to sentience. It is a process known as uplift. I am Ab Demwa, by the way. I’ll be your guide for the remaining portion of this tour.” 
Doog: “Uplift?”
Ab Demwa: “Yes. It is an advanced process that involves genetic manipulation. Essentially, we give species that are close to sentience a little kick. We boost them to the next level.”
Doog: “Any species that I know?”
Ab Demwa: “We’ve experimented with uplifting several intelligent animal species around the galaxy. We’ve had a few successes. The Calx race is probably our best work though.”
Doog: “Wait, Ul Brin, you’ve been uplifted?”

Ul Brin: “Yes. The Lifters rescued my species from the unknowing ignorance of non-sentience. We are indebted to them.”
Doog: “These red rock things are you before uplift?”
Ul Brin: “Yes. But we weren’t rocks; just immobile, intelligent life forms on the edge on sentience. The Lifters brought us over the edge.”  
Doog: “Interesting. And now I suppose you are looking to uplift monkeys? Otherwise, the whole monkey jail thing is a little weird.”

Ab Demwa: “Yes. They are a species we are experimenting with. We’ve had some mixed results thus far. Take a look at Kiko over there.”
Kiko: “Me Kiko. Me like bananas. Me not monkey. Me like bananas.”
Ab Demwa: “We’ve lifted Kiko to the extent that she has some signs of sentience: speech, emotions, and self-awareness. There’s work to be done though.”
Doog: “Like what?”
Kiko: “Me rip off everyone’s arms if no banana. Me throw poo. Me Kiko.”
Doog: “Never mind. So what’s next?
Ab Demwa: “Follow me.”

Doog: “What is this? Are you uplifting your own species?”
Ab Demwa: “Unfortunately, we are not. These are hibernation tanks. We keep half our population in stasis, or hibernation, at all times.”
Doog: “Why?”
Ab Demwa: “My species is endangered. In fact, endangered is not even the correct word. My species is pre-extinct.”
Doog: “I don’t get it. How are you pre-extinct?”
Ab Demwa: “We were too quick, too eager to exploit our genetic expertise. Millions of modifications to our genes rendered us nearly immortal, but such genetic manipulation came at a price. We lost the ability to reproduce.”
Doog: “If you’re immortal, why is reproduction a big deal? It’s fun and all, but it’s no longer necessary to keep your race from going extinct.”

Ab Demwa: “Yes, we once believed the same, but remember, I said nearly immortal. We’ve fixed all physical flaws, we no longer age, and we are immune to all disease. But that is not enough. We are still vulnerable to trauma.”
Doog: “So, in other words, you can be shot and killed, but you’ll never die of the flu.”
Ab Demwa: “Exactly. Trauma was never really an issue before. Besides an accident here and there, almost none of my race ever died.”
Doog: “I’m sensing a sad, arrival-of-the-LIU, story.”
Ab Demwa: “Yes. We foolishly believed our genetic superiority would allow us to prevail against the LIU during the Mid Rim Unification War. We were wrong. The LIU destroyed our homeworld, resulting in the death of 99.99% of my race. There are less than fifty of us now.”
Doog: “Sorry to hear that. The LIU can be harsh.”
Ab Demwa: “No need to be sorry. It’s easy to blame the LIU, but we were foolish to resist…foolish to make these modifications to our genetics. All we can do now is attempt to leave a mark on the galaxy before we all depart.”

Doog: “Fifty is not a lot, but there’s still some of you left. If you’re careful, your race will be here for a long while.”
Ab Demwa: “Yes. We hope. That’s part of the reason we’ve moved to the edge of the galaxy. It’s safer here. We’re far from exploding suns, meteors and asteroids, and other cataclysmic, civilization-ending events. We wear specialized, armored suits that offer us maximum protection. We also, as you see, keep part of our population in stasis, safe from all external dangers.” 
Doog: “Is cloning an option? Could you clone more of your race?”
Ab Demwa: “It is possible, I suppose, to make exact genetic copies of ourselves, but we have not been given permission to attempt this yet. The LIU funds all our genetic research. We have already made the mistake of crossing the LIU once…we will not cross them ever again. For now, we are focusing on uplifting species chosen by the LIU.”
Doog: “The LIU chose to uplift the Calx?”
Ab Demwa: “Yes. Their biology made them perfect workers for the dark matter collectors. We‘ve lifted thousands of them.”

Doog: “Alright, what am I seeing here?”
Ab Demwa: “This is where we uplift the Calx.”
Doog: “How is it done?”
Ab Demwa: “ It’s much too complicated to explain to a laymen. I guess you can say that it involves splicing more advanced segments of DNA into the non-sentient beings. That’s dumbing it down a lot though. There’s DNA imprinting, mutation controls, and RNA retro-animation too.”
Doog: “So much for dumbing it down. I only understood like three words in that last statement.”
Ab Demwa: “Indeed. It’s very complicated.”

Doog: “You said that this is where you uplift the Calx. Are you still uplifting them?”
Ab Demwa: “The process of uplift starts with creating a large, genetically diverse population. We can’t let them reproduce on their own just yet; there’s more diversity required. So, yes. We are still uplifting non-sentient Calx into the sentient beings you see here. Each non-sentient is genetically altered and then left to grow into their new form in mutation control pools like this.”

Ul Baby: “Momma, dadda.”
Doog: “Uh, maybe we should go. I already have enough alleged children out around the galaxy, I don‘t need another. Besides, he looked at me when he said momma…which is somewhat damaging to my manliness.”
Ab Demwa: “Yeah, we better head out before we imprint on him too much. Follow me.”

Ab Demwa: “We are building up a solid population before we begin to allow the Calx to reproduce on their own. However, we have began testing the Calx to make sure reproduction is possible. This is important if they are to be a viable, long-term race. We’d hate for our genetic alterations to render the Calx sterile like us.”
Doog: “Testing? Are we watching what I think I we’re watching?”
Ab Demwa: “We are watching a breeding session between to Calx.”
Doog: “Holy Kaadu! That’s what I thought. So gross…so wrong…yet…yet I can not seem to turn away. I feel like I should be inserting dollars somewhere. Do I leave a tip?”

Doog: “Well folks, Nidavellir is an interesting place. It houses the base of operations for all dark matter collection in the LIU Galaxy. It’s home to the Calx, a race of beings being uplifted in order to populate the dark matter collectors. Nidavellir is also home to the last of the Lifters, a fading race of expert geneticists. It also has some of the galaxy’s worst peep shows. There's some seriously weird stuff going on right behind me. Weird stuff that I am going to return to viewing in just a few seconds. Got to go. See ya!”


Note:

Doog: “Well, that gives another definition to rock hard…” 

There are billions of stars, millions of planets, but there is only one man, Terrance McDoogal. Welcome to LIU Atlas. 


                                                            LIU Atlas - Cicatrix
The Ludgonian Industrial Union's galaxy contains billions of stars and billions of planets. Unfortunately, most residents of the LIU could only name a handful of these worlds. In order to improve astronomy grades across the LIU, TV2 has started a new program called LIU Atlas. Follow our host, Terrance McDoogal, as he takes you on a tour across the LIU and some of its more obscure worlds.


Note: This episode is presented in full screen. The corresponding dialogue is underneath each photo.

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the small, outer-rim planet of Cicatrix. Cicatrix, the innermost planet in its star system, is tidally locked. This means the same side of the planet is always facing the sun. As you can see, Cicatrix has been heavily cratered by thousands of small impact events. Meteors and comets, disturbed and flung inward by the system’s seven gas planets, continuously bombarded Cicatrix during its formation. One of these impact events created Craith, a massive impact crater. The impact event that created Craith threw millions of tons of ejecta and debris into the planet’s atmosphere, which settled near the crater. The browner coloration of this ejecta is still visible on Cicatrix’s surface.”

Doog: “Cicatrix has a thin atmosphere with an average atmospheric pressure of 50.2 kilopascals. This is well below standard pressure. However, in the deep depths of Craith Crater, atmospheric pressure rises to about 87.4 kilopascals. This is still much lower than standard, but it did allow a race of beings to evolve here. They live and work in Craith Crater. That’s where we’re headed.”

Doog: “Craith Crater holds the huge city of Craith. The city, which is built around the crater’s western wall, is home to over twenty million people. Despite being on the planet’s tidally locked “day -side”, Craith is always dark. It’s trapped in the crater’s shadow. This is beneficial though. Cicatrix’s thin atmosphere filters out very little radiation, so direct sunlight could be deadly. Let’s just say, I won’t be working on my tan while I’m here. Ah, I think I see my guide.”

Balafre: “Hey Doog. Welcome to Cicatrix. I’m Walter Balafre. Nice to meet you.”
Doog: “Yeah. Nice to meet you too. So, you’re one of the natives?”
Balafre: “Uh no, I’m human.”
Doog: “Oh…my bad. Sometimes this red visor makes species identification a little tricky. Besides, you have some weird thing going on with you right eye. It’s sort of puffy and it’s not even looking at me.”
Balafre: “Ah, yes. My right eye is artificial. Decompression accident in one of Cicatrix’s mines. There are some dangers of living in a city, like Craith. It’s not easy for humans here.”
Doog: “So, why come here?”
Balafre: “Economic opportunity, I guess. Cicatrix houses some large LIU companies. There’s money to be made here.”

Balafre: “The natives are much better suited for this environment. Here’s some now. We call them the Cica.”
Doog: “What makes them better suited?”
Balafre: “Their darker skin coloration prevents burning when they venture into the sun. Their eyes are suited for seeing in the dark shadows, but can function in the blinding plains as well. Obviously, their bodies can handle the lower atmospheric pressures. You see they are not wearing environmental suits like you or I.”
Doog: “Indeed, but it looks like I’m seeing two species here. Are the Cica the mean, scary looking people or the angry people with long hair?”  
Balafre: “Both. The Cica race exhibits sexual dimorphism.”
Doog: “I’m a big fan of exhibiting anything sexual, but I’ve never heard of dimorphism? And, you’re talking to a guy that’s been to the red light district on Malicanum. Is dimorphism a weird position or something?”
Balafre: “What! No! Sexual dimorphism means that the males and females of the species have different features. The males can be distinguished by their brow markings and bigger eyes. The females have longer hair and more pointed ears.”
Doog: “Ah. Gotcha. Makes sense. I could really get behind this dimorphism thing. No more surprises in the brothel.”

Balafre: “Perhaps we should change the subject.”
Doog: “Yeah, good idea. I don’t want to relive that brothel surprise anyway. So, you said earlier that Cicatrix houses some big LIU companies. Anything I know?”
Balafre: “Well, after our previous discussion, I’m not sure I care to guess what you know or don’t know. But, they are some pretty big companies, so I’m sure you heard of them. Cicatrix is home to Augmented Utilities and Trans-Steel.”
Doog: “I actually have heard of those. I mean, who hasn’t? They’re some of the biggest companies in the galaxy.”
Balafre: “Yes. Both are large and highly successful. They are known across the universe. Their economic success has transformed Craith from a small farming village into the high-tech city it is today.”

Balafre: “Both companies are headquartered on the far end of the city, closer to the mineral rich ejecta fields. In order to tour these areas, we’ll need to catch a maglev tram. They’re the best way to get around on Craith.”
Doog: “Sounds better than walking.”
Balafre: “A lot better. Craith is a multi-tiered city that stretches for over fifty miles. It could take us days to get there otherwise.”
Doog: “Did I mention, I love trams?”

Doog: “Alright, let’s hop on. What are we waiting for?”
Balafre: “We need to purchase tickets first, besides, I’m not sure this is the right train.”
Doog: “Did I catch the word ’purchase’ in there? I’m fresh out of credits.”
Balafre: “Sigh. I guess I meant, ‘I have to purchase some tickets’.”

Balafre: “I should be able to get us taken care of at this ticket kiosk.”
Doog: “Ah cool, holographic glass. I’ve always been a fan of this stuff.”
Balafre: “Yeah, it’s pretty neat. It’s made by Augmented Utilities, one of the companies here. They specialize in making computerized glass. It’s useful for interactive screens and heads-up displays.”
Doog: “Now, if they could just figure out how to write basic, they’d be set. I can’t read any of the gibberish on here.” 
Balafre: “It’s not gibberish, it’s Presciant. Like many outer-rim worlds, the Cica adopted the Presciant script instead of Basic. That’s why the Augmented Utilities’ logo looks the way it does. It’s written in both Basic and Presciant.”

Doog: “Alright folks, Balafre and myself have secured passage on a tram so we can cross the enormous city of Craith. As we’ve journeyed through the city, I’ve notice a few odd things, like this crowded plaza here. What’s going on here Balafre?”
Balafre: “Craith is famous for its barzas. Barza is just a portmanteau of bar and plaza. These barzas are communal gathering places where residents meet for drinks and food. They’re found every couple blocks.”
Doog: “Sounds like we should get a barza crawl going. Forget this tram.”
Balafre: “A crawl does sound good. The Cica’s moss wine is galaxy renowned, but there’s a problem.”
Doog: “You don’t have enough credits for the both of us?”

Balafre: “Well, that. But you’re forgetting one thing…you can’t drink in your environmental suit.”
Doog: “Dang. Forgot about that. Wait, I see lots of people drinking in their suits.”
Balafre: “Many of the non-native races that live here have made modifications to their suits. It’s a must when living in this type of environment for an extended period of time.”
Doog: “Fine. I guess we should carry on…sober.”


Forty Minutes Later…

Balafre: “Ah, finally. The end of the line.”
Doog: “It’s a lot brighter here.”
Balafre: “Yes. This section of the city experiences direct sunlight. It can be bright.”
Doog: “Are we in danger?”
Balafre: “No. Our suits are designed to handle these levels of radiation.”
Doog: “Well, the sign says danger.”
Balafre: “It’s referring to the areas beyond fields.  It’s also a warning about atmospheric pressure, not the sunlight. You really ought to learn Presciant...especially in your line of work.”
Doog: “Beyond the fields? Like agriculture fields?”

Balafre: “Yes. The Cica grow a moss-like crop. It’s the only native, natural food here. It only grows in this region of the crater, where there is ample light and air concentrations. Prior to the LIU’s arrival, the Cica relied solely on this crop for survival, but now they import other foods from around the galaxy. This crop is mostly used to make moss wine.”
Doog: “Wine that I can not taste…”
Balafre: “Why don’t you whine about it? Ha, ha… I couldn’t resist.”

Doog: “Bad jokes aside, what’s next? Are we touring the moss fields? Are we spending lot’s of time with this agriculture? Am I doing some sort of jumping maneuver to get down there? If so, do you have a noose I can borrow before I jump?”

Balafre: “You can get the general idea from here. I think we can skip the agriculture.  Let’s head up to the ejecta fields.”

Balafre: “Remember, Cicatrix has very low atmospheric pressures. As we ascend, the pressure drops even further. It’s only about 50 kilopascals up there.”
Doog: “I’ve got a suit on. I’ll be fine, right?”
Balafre: “Yes, of course, but be wary. We’re entering an industrial zone. Suit punctures or other wardrobe malfunctions could be deadly.”
Doog: “Got it.”

Balafre: “The impactor that struck Cicatrix was composed of various silicate alloys, mostly silicon dioxide. When combined with the natural minerals of Cicatrix, the silicates can be formed into various forms of glass. The first step of the process involves mining the silicates and additives from the ejecta fields.”
Doog: “The ejecta fields are where the debris landed from the Craith impact, correct?”
Balafre: “Yes.”

Balafre: “The Cica developed several powerful mining mechs to make ore retrieval easier and safer.”
Doog: “I see the Cica can survive the low pressure, even up here.”
Balafre: “Yes, but for limited periods. Too much exposure at these pressures can even be dangerous for the Cica. That’s why the mechs make mining easier and safer.”

Balafre: “The LIU Quad Driller weakens the crater walls by drilling in targeted spots. Larger Chipper Mechs collapse weakened sections of walls. The smaller Loader Mechs break up the debris further and load it into trains.”

Doog: “Seems standard enough. Well, except this big guy. Why’s he called a stripper mech? Does he run on single credits or what?”
Balafre: “Sigh…I said chipper, not stripper.”
Doog: “Ah, makes a bit more sense that way.”

Doog: “Whatever the mech’s called, it sure has a cool sword.”
Balafre: “Not a sword. It’s a vibrator blade.”
Doog: “Vibrator? Wait, are really you sure this thing isn’t a Stripper Mech?”
Balafre: “Yes, I’m sure! It’s a chipper mech. The blades called a vibrator blade because it vibrates at a super-high frequency. It can cut through anything. It would cut through you like butter.”
Doog: “If it cut through me, it would be more like lard then butter. Anyway, anything else to see in the ejecta fields?”
Balafre: “No. Let’s head to where the collected minerals are processed.”

Balafre: “Trans-Steel is one of the largest LIU companies. They make hardened glass products that are used in spaceship canopies and space station windows. They have terrestrial uses as well, mostly in armored glass. Essentially, you’ll find trans-steel anywhere you want a window, but you don’t want the risk of a traditional window, if that makes sense.”
Doog: “Yeah, I guess. How’s it made?”
Balafre: “The exact specifications are a closely guarded secret. Trans-Steel is sold and shipped to other galaxies. We wouldn’t want to give up its secrets. We’ve only been given access to this section of the factory for a few minutes. There’s more to see at AU’s factory, if you’d like to move on.”

Balafre: “Augmented Utilities, or AU, makes holographic glass used in interactive screens and heads-up-displays. Cicatrix’s natural metallic minerals are combined with advanced silicate glass to form these holographic window panels. They are in use all around the galaxy.”

Balafre: “Most of the factory is automated, but it does employ a few of the native Cica as well. It pumps out hundreds of panels everyday.”

Doog: “I can’t help but to be a little bit nervous here.”
Balafre: “Why’s that?”
Doog: “I’m one of the galaxy’s clumsiest citizens, and I’m standing in the middle of a glass factory…”
Balafre: “Well, maybe we should leave then.”
Doog: “Must resist urge to touch things. Must not pick up and throw random items. Must…”
Balafre: “Yeah, it’s time to go.”

Doog: “Well folks, Cicatrix is a pretty interesting place. A race of beings, called the Cica, live in one of the planet’s large impact craters. The crater offers shade, higher atmospheric pressure, and an abundant source of minerals. These minerals are used to produce advanced forms of glass, like Trans-Steel and Holo-Glass. They have some cool plaza bars too, so I’m contemplating making some alterations to my suit so I can indulge. Decompression…psst…who worries about that. Well, see ya.”



Note: Doog spent the remainder of his stay on Cicatrix in a hyperbaric chamber with minor injuries due to suit decompression. Turns out he’s allergic to moss wine too. Not his best decision. 

There are billions of stars, millions of planets, but there is only one man, Terrance McDoogal. Welcome to LIU Atlas. 


                                                            LIU Atlas - Fluitantis
The Ludgonian Industrial Union's galaxy contains billions of stars and billions of planets. Unfortunately, most residents of the LIU could only name a handful of these worlds. In order to improve astronomy grades across the LIU, TV2 has started a new program called LIU Atlas. Follow our host, Terrance McDoogal, as he takes you on a tour across the LIU and some of its more obscure worlds.


Note: This episode is presented in full screen. The corresponding dialogue is underneath each photo.

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the icy world of Fluitantis. Fluitantis orbits retrograde to the other planets in its system, indicating that it is a captured body. In fact, it was once much icier, but its new location in the system has warmed it considerably. Now, its ice is only situated near its poles. Some of this ice occasionally calves off the polar masses and forms relatively stable icebergs that float around the planet.”

Doog: “Several of these icebergs are inhabited, including this larger iceberg, called Cikuq. Cikuq is a LIU settlement. It acts as a liaison point between the LIU and the native race, the Ukiuk.”

Doog: “The iceberg, Cikuq, has been stable for over fifty years. It currently drifts on the Anyu East Current, which takes the iceberg on a circumpolar route around the planet.”

Doog: “Cikuq is home to a large spaceport that imports and exports cargo to and from the planet. That’s where we are headed.”

Tinny: “Hey, welcome to Fluitantis. I’m Export Specialist Theo Tinsdale. Everyone calls me Tinny.”
Doog: “Thanks, Tinny. It’s a little too cold here for my tastes, but I guess it could be worse.”
Tinny: “Actually, it could be a lot worse. Cikuq meanders north and south as it floats around the planet. We’re in a southern portion of this meander right now, so it’s a bit warmer. Of course, we wouldn’t want to stay down here too long, or we may experience some melting.”
Doog: “Yeah, I guess that wouldn’t be good. It must be strange living on an iceberg.”
Tinny: “It’s not all that strange. It’s pretty similar to living on any landmass, I suppose. This one is just made of ice.”

Doog: “Yeah, but I’ve never lived on a landmass that could melt at any moment.”
Tinny: “Cikuq won’t melt anytime soon. It’s pretty stable. We lose a few centimeters every year, but this thing is massive. It will be around several more centuries. The only true danger is striking another iceberg.”
Doog: “Well, that’s comforting.”
Tinny: “Relax, we’re monitoring everything closely. You’ll be in no danger while you’re here. I mean, the Ukiuk evolved on icebergs similar to this over a period of millions of years. That should lead some credence on the stability of these icebergs.”
Doog: “I suppose. So, when do I get to meet one of these Ucky Yucks? They sound gross.”
Tinny: “Looks like you’ll be meeting one soon. Here comes your guide.”
Doog: “Wait, you’re not my guide?”

Tinny: “No, this guy is.”
Agloolik: “HEEEEY!”
Doog: “What the @&%$! Run! Everyone run!”

Tinny: “I probably should have gave him a description first.”
Agloolik: “Yeah, typical human response. I guess it didn’t help when I screamed. I have to remember to clear my throat first.”
Tinny: “Should we stop him?”
Agloolik: “Nah, it looks like he’s about to pass out already. I don’t think he’s getting all that far.”

Agloolik: “Sorry if I frightened you.”
Doog: “What? That? I wasn’t scared. I just…uh…was exercising. Yeah, exercising. You know how important exercising is to me. So, uh…you’re a native, huh?”
Agloolik: “Yes. My name is Agloolik. I am a trade specialist for my tribe. I interact with Tinny, and trade my tribe’s goods to the LIU."
Doog: “Trade? Do you guys produce goods?”
Agloolik: “Lots of goods. Come on, follow me.”

Agloolik: “This is Cikuq City, a trade town. My people trade our wares to various stores in the city in return for various LIU goods.”
Doog: “Apparently, some of these goods are wieners.”
Agloolik: “What can I say, we’re are a food driven species.”

Doog: “Can’t fault you for that? So, what do you guys trade for wieners?
Agloolik: “Lots of things, but mostly animal products. Fluitantis is home to several unique species that we farm or harvest. If you’re up for a journey, I can show some of the operations to you.”
Doog: “It depends. How much a journey are we talking about? I blew most of my energy reserves running in fear earlier…I mean exercising.”

Agloolik: “Don’t worry, most of our operations are on other icebergs. We’ll be riding on a boat for most of the journey.”
Doog: “I can handle that. Wait, I’m not rowing, am I?”

Agloolik: “No, we used to row, which made traveling a bit more challenging, but we use portable motors now. Thanks, in part, to trades with the LIU.”

Agloolik: “ My people, the Ukiuk, were originally more detached and disconnected. Each tribe had settled its own iceberg. Interactions were rare. Under the LIU, things have changed. Communication and travel upgrades have united our people. We now have common grounds, like Cikuq, to interact. And, thanks to LIU policies, each tribe has become more specialized in its various industry. We are more productive then ever.”
Doog: “It’s refreshing to meet a race that actual welcomes the changes brought about by the LIU.”
Agloolik: “I’m not going to lie, those wieners play a large part in our happiness. Have you had one? Man, they’re like little cylinders of heaven.”

Doog: “Whoa! What’s that!?”
Agloolik: “It’s an Oogrooq. It’s more commonly known as the Fluitanten Walrus.”
Doog: “It’s huge!”
Agloolik: “Yes. The Oogrooq is one of the largest aquatic mammals in the galaxy.”
Doog: “You farm these?”

Agloolik: “No, we hunt them. The Oogrooq have not been tamed. It’s a dangerous business, but well worth the pay off.”

Doog: “What do you get from walruses?”
Agloolik: “Lots of stuff: meat, leather, blubber, and even bones. They are all used as food and building materials. The Oogrooq is a staple of life on Fluitantis.”
Doog: “The LIU trades for this stuff? I’ve never seen a restaurant with walrus meat on their menu.”
Agloolik: “No, most of the materials obtained from the Oogrooq are of no use to the LIU. We hunt them mostly for our own benefit, but there is one thing of interest to the LIU.”
Doog: “What’s that?”

Agloolik: “Ivory, from the Oogrooq’s tusk.”
Doog: “Ivory?”
Agloolik: “Yes. It’s used in many items, particularly jewelry. There are, of course, other sources of ivory in the galaxy, but we are one of the largest exporters. We hunt and kill almost twice the amount of Oogrooq these days, mostly for the ivory.”
Doog: “Are the populations sturdy enough for this type of production?”
Agloolik: “For now. We may need to slow down production in a few years.”
Doog: “Fun stuff. Who doesn’t like slaughtering animals for jewelry. So, what’s next?”

Agloolik: “This iceberg, Desna Kaskae, is my homeland.”

Doog: “It’s a beautiful iceberg, Agloolik. Lots of scenery…” 
Agloolik: “It may not be much to look at, but Desna Kaskae has been the home to my tribe for thousands of years. This iceberg is more stable due to its northern position. It actually grows a few inches each year.”

Doog: “I’ve definitely lived in worse places, but this place looks a little barren.”
Agloolik: “We don’t need much shelter to survive. Our thick fur keeps us protected. Towns like these serve more as communal gathering places, where we store and process goods. We also raise various native creatures here.”
Doog: “Raise?”
Agloolik: “Yes, many of the animals native to Fluitantis are raised and then sold to the LIU.”
Doog: “For food?”
Agloolik: “No, as working animals. For instance, the Amaguq over there. It is a large powerful creature that can easily survive in colder temperatures. We breed this species for sale to the LIU. It‘s a beast of burden.”
Doog: “Looks like some sort of wolf-deer.”
Agloolik: “Yes, I have heard that comparison before. The Amaguq are not similar to deer though. They are carnivorous; they too eat the meat of the Oogrooq.”
Doog: “Seems dangerous to have a beast of burden that could eat you at any moment.”
Agloolik: “It’s no more dangerous than owning dogs. The Amaguq are pack animals, and they’re very loyal and tame when raised correctly.”

Agloolik: “Besides the Amaguq, we also raise Denigii. They too are carnivores. They use the fleshy organ on their snout to smell out small rodents that burrow into the ice.”
Doog: “They look a little fragile to be beast of burden.”
Agloolik: “Yes. The Denigii are used differently. Their advanced olfactory sense make them a useful animal to the LIU. They can be trained to be detection animals.”
Doog: “You don’t mean…like…drug-sniffers, do you?”
Agloolik: “I suppose they could be used for that, if trained properly. However, the LIU puts more weight on their ability to sniff out hidden rodents. Denigii are often used to scan food exports before departure. That way, there’s no stowaway rodents.”
Doog: “They could probably use a few of those on Foetida.”
Agloolik: “Where?”
Doog: “Never mind.  So, do you guys raise anything else?”
Agloolik: “No, but we have a few more exports worth seeing. We need to head north.”

 Agloolik: “This is the northern iceberg, Kinguyakkii. It rests permanently at the planet’s north pole. It is fully stable and grows several feet each year. Kinguyakkii is sometimes referred to as the mother, as it gave birth to many of the icebergs via calving.”
Doog: “It’s certainly much colder and snowier.”
Agloolik: “Yes. Warmer, more humid air, from the equator, falls as snow when it cools over Kinguyakkii. It helps add to the iceberg’s mass.”
Doog: “What exactly do you produce here? Snowballs? Snowman?”
Agloolik: “No, with the help of the LIU, we produce various gases.”
Doog: “Gases?”

Agloolik: “Yes. The northern iceberg is made primarily of clathrate hydrates which trap valuable gases.”
Doog: “Made of what?”
Agloolik: “Clathrate hydrates. I know, it sounds fancy, but it’s a pretty simple concept. In laymen’s terms, the ice freezes into a lattice structure and traps various atoms of gas. Pretty much just means that there are gases trapped in the ice.”

Doog: “And you harvest this gas?”
Agloolik: “Yes. The majority of the gases collected are lighter, noble gases like Helium, Neon, and Argon. They usually escape a planet’s atmosphere after creation due to their light weight, but here, on Fluitantis, they were trapped in the rapidly formed ice.”

Agloolik: “We can climb to the top of the rig, if you want to see how the whole process works.”
Doog: “Pass.”
Agloolik: “Whew. Glad you said that. Well, if we’re not headed up, then we need to head down to reach our final industry.”
Doog: “Down?”

Agloolik: “Yes, down. The clathrate hydrate extraction leaves pockets and tunnels in the ice mass. They’re spread all throughout the iceberg. The extraction also leaves behind something else.”

Doog: “Crystals?”
Agloolik: “Sort of. Under the right conditions, clathrate hydrates can form a more exotic form of ice, called super-ionic ice. It is similar in structure to the basic hydrate, but much more energetic. In essence, the ices in the deepest regions of the iceberg are under enough pressures that the oxygen crystallizes, and the hydrogen atoms float freely within this oxygen lattice.”
Doog: “What?”

Agloolik: “It’s a solid hydrogen-based fuel. It remains relatively stable until disturbed. At that point, the oxygen lattice fails and super-ionic ice will instantly decompress and explode, releasing lots of energy.”
Doog: “Why would anyone want that?”
Agloolik: “It’s used primarily as an emergency fuel. If kept under sufficient temperatures or at proper pressures, the crystals are like little packets of energy.”
Doog: “Like an icy charcoal?”
Agloolik: “Err…sort of. Lot more energetic though. You don’t want to barbecue with this stuff. It’s often stored in emergency batteries inside large capital ships.”
Doog: “And this is the only planet where you can obtain these crystals?”
Agloolik: “Oh, no. It’s pretty abundant, but most super-ionic ice is located in the crushing depths of ice giant planets. Fluitantis is rare in that the super-ionic ice is located in a readily accessible area.”
Doog: “Fair enough.”

Doog: “Well folks, Fluitantis is an interesting place. All activity here takes place on large floating icebergs. The native Ukiuk race calls these icebergs home. They trade the natural goods of Fluitantis, like walrus ivory and beasts of burden, in return from various goods from the LIU. More importantly, they produce noble gases and solid fuels that are in high demand across the galaxy. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go back to Cikuq and try one of those wieners. Apparently, they are quite delicious. See ya!”


Note: Fluitantis’ moon, Fluito, orbits retrograde to Fluitantis’ spin, meaning it was captured by Fluitantis around the same time Fluitantis was captured by its star. Fluito’s gravitational pull, increased by its retrograde motion, creates the strong ocean currents on Fluitantis that keeps the icebergs moving continuously. 

There are billions of stars, millions of planets, but there is only one man, Terrance McDoogal. Welcome to LIU Atlas. 


                                                            LIU Atlas - Invenit Servus

The Ludgonian Industrial Union's galaxy contains billions of stars and billions of planets. Unfortunately, most residents of the LIU could only name a handful of these worlds. In order to improve astronomy grades across the LIU, TV2 has started a new program called LIU Atlas. Follow our host, Terrance McDoogal, as he takes you on a tour across the LIU and some of its more obscure worlds.


Note: This episode is presented in full screen. The corresponding dialogue is underneath each photo.

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the planet, Invenit Servus. Invenit Servus is volcanically active, and it’s large calderas are home to many geothermal features. Oh yeah…and it’s also home to a LIU prison labor camp, my new home for the next few weeks.”

Doog: “That’s right, the crew and I have been sentenced to hard labor for our little incident with the Progenitors. I guess it could be worse though. We could have been sentenced to actual jail time. At least this way, we all get to suffer together.”

Mike: “Yeah, this is way better… did you forget about the whole labor part?”
Cam: “Let’s find Doog they said. Let’s lie to the LIU. What could possibly go wrong?” 
Timbo: “The worst part is, we never found Doog. He found us. We could have done almost anything other than what we did, and everything would have been fine. But nooo…I listened to you guys.”
Oldie: “I don’t know why you guys are complaining. Sentencing me to hard labor is practically a death sentence. I’m too old for labor…even the easy kind.”
Doog: “Alright fine, you babies. It’s not ideal, but it’s still better…”

ZAP!
Doog: “Ouch!”
SL4V3DR1V3R: “Silence. This portion of your sentence does not require speaking.”
Oldie: “Hehe. That cheered me up a bit.”

ZAP!
SL4V3DR1V3R: “Silence. This portion of your sentence does not require speaking.”
Oldie: “And…the cheer is gone.”

Warden: “Listen up. I am Warden Dangolin. My Productivity Bots and myself will be your overseers while you complete your sentences. You will follow all commands we issue. Escape attempts, violence, or poor work ethic will not be tolerated. Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be. Fall into line and follow me.”

Warden: “This is Cell #2, your home during your sentence. You will be locked inside this communal structure when you are not working in the field.”
Mike: “What exactly will we be doing?”

Warden: “Invenit Servus is home to several thousand super-heated caldera pools like this. Several different types of extremophile bacteria call these pools home. Some of these bacteria are useful to the LIU. You will be harvesting these useful extremophile bacteria for the duration of your sentence.”
Oldie: “Sounds easy enough.”
Doog: “Yeah. You guys should have no problem with that.”
Mike: “What do you mean, ‘you guys‘? You’re a part of this too. Don’t think your getting out of work.”
Cam: “Besides, you’re the best at catching weird bacteria, if your history is any indication.”

Warden: “He didn’t tell ya, did he?”
Oldie: “Tell us what?”
Doog: “Um…well, I’ve been instructed to film an episode while we’re here. So, I won’t be in on the labor, at least, for right now.”
Mike: “WHAT! It’s YOUR fault we’re here!”
Cam: “I guess that’s why they call it justice, because it‘s just us.”
Warden: “Don’t get too flustered. You’re here for a few weeks. I don’t imagine this will take more than a day. Your buddy, Doog, will be joining you shortly. Now, let’s get to work.”

Doog: “So, tell me about this bacteria.”
Warden: “There are several species that call these pools home. They’re extremophiles, specifically, thermophiles. They have the ability to live in extreme temperatures. As you can see, the water in the middle of these pools is still clear. It’s just too hot. But, as you move outward, the bacteria become more prevalent. The water is slightly cooler there.”
Doog: “What makes these rings?”
Warden: “Each species is specialized for varying degrees of water temperature. Each ring is a different colony of bacteria. Each, has colonized a specific temperature range within the pool.”

Doog: “And you just go around and suck the bacteria up?”
Warden: “Well, I don’t, but the prisoners do. A track was installed that runs alongside a chain of these caldera pools. Prisoners drag a collection cart down this track and pump the bacteria into the tank.”
Doog: “All the bacteria?”
Warden: “Not all. Only the yellow and orange-colored bacteria is of any use to us. Of course, some of the other bacteria is inadvertently collected too, but it doesn’t hurt anything.”

Doog: “It doesn’t look super fun, but it definitely doesn’t look like it is all that hard. Couldn’t the LIU think of something more demanding for hard labor? Not that I’m complaining or anything.”
Warden: “You’re right. As far as labor camps go, this is one of the easier ones. There’s not anything too physically demanding. It is, however, very dangerous work. You won’t find anyone volunteering to do this job. That’s why we force prisoners to do it.”
Doog: “What makes it so dangerous? The hot water?”
Warden: “Partially. This whole labor camp is on volcanic grounds. There’s the dangers associated with that, like boiling water and noxious gases, but the true danger lies in the bacteria being collected.”
Doog: “Does it cause disease?”
Warden: “No, nothing like that. I’ll explain on the way. Follow me.”

Warden: “The prisoners eventually push the cart to the end of the track here. They then pump their collection of bacteria down into an underground tank. It’s processed in an underground laboratory.”

Warden: “Come on, follow me.”

Doog: “We come to it at last…the hard labor.”
Warden: “Huh?”
Doog: “It’s a stair joke.”
Warden: “Oh…”

Warden: “This is the laboratory. The bacteria and its byproduct are processed here.”
Doog: “Byproduct?”
Warden: “Yes. The bacteria’s byproduct is what makes them so valuable; it’s also what makes this job so dangerous. The orange and yellow-colored bacteria produce a powerful mutagen that helps stave off the other species of bacteria. If you remember, these bacteria are in the middle rings. They are fighting off invasions from the other bacterial colonies from both sides. They must protect their territory.”
Doog: “And these mute gems help fight off the other bacteria?”
Warden: “It’s mutagens, but yes. This chemical causes mutations to the other bacteria’s reproductive organs. It essentially stops them from reproducing in its territory.”
Doog: “Why in the heck would you want to collect that….unless…oh man, it works on people. Doesn't it?”

Warden: “Yes. These mutagens work on all types of reproductive cells, from nearly every species. It’s a universal contraceptive.”
Doog: “That’s why no one wants to collect it! No one wants to be permanently sterilized.”
Warden: “Now, now…don’t get all worked up.  I mean, sure, there's an insanely high risk of exposure for the prisoners collecting the bacteria, but no one said anything about it being permanent. If you are exposed to the mutagen, it will wear off…in a few years.”
Doog: “A few years!?”
Warden: “Yes. It’s a non-surgical, long-term contraceptive.”

Warden: “The mutagen is separated, bottled up, and then shipped to off-world factories, where it is converted into a pill. Like I said before, it works on males and females of almost all known species.”
Doog: “I’m sorry, but I can’t think about anything else right now. What’s my exposure level so far? How many years are we talking about? Will everything still work? I need to get out of here!”

Doog: “I get it now! That’s why this place is called a penal colony! You come here and your penal system never works again!”
Warden: “Actually, that’s not what penal means. It’s a form of the word penalty.”
Doog: “Whatever! Oh…and hard labor! Another one of your play on words! This is cruel and unusual punishment!”
Warden: “If you don’t relax, I’m going to call down a Productivity Bot.”
Doog: “Don’t you mean a Re-productivity Bot!”
Warden: “Well, I’ve had enough. Time for you to get to work. The tour is over.”

Warden: “Don’t go and get everyone else worked up. It’s better if they don’t know what’s going on here.”
Doog: “So your throwing me and my future children out into the mutagen fields? Thanks a lot, Warden.”
Warden: “Don’t do the crime, if you can’t do the time.”

Doog: “Well folks, Invenit Servus is a lot worse than I thought. They collect some sort of super-contraceptive from the bacteria that live in the planet’s geothermal pools. It’s dangerous to collect because it exposes the collectors to high doses of the contraceptive. That’s why they force prisoners, like my crew and I, to do the collecting. I’m going to have to find a way to get out of this! Well, see ya!”
ZAP! 
SL4V3DR1V3R: “Your summation has ended. Return to work, immediately.”

Note:

Doog: “Guys! We got to get out of here!”
Oldie: “In case you didn’t notice, we’re in prison. I don’t think we can leave anytime we want.”
Mike: “Yeah. Besides, I’m having a ball. Doing actual physical work is really rewarding.”
Doog: “No Mike, you’re not having a ball. In fact, it’s quite the opposite….”


Bonus Note:


Day #2 of Sentence

Mike: “Doog seems in better spirits today.”
Cam: “Yeah. I guess.”

Cam: “So good, in fact, that he’s not even flinching when he gets shocked by that productivity prod.”
Mike: “Yeah…what’s up with that? Wait a minute…that’s not Doog, is it?”
Cam: “I’m guessing the Doog Dummy is finally getting used for its intended purpose.”
Mike: “That @#%&*@$! He’s going to get away with it, isn’t he?”
Cam: “Always does…”

There are billions of stars, millions of planets, but only one man, Terrance "Doog" McDoogal. Welcome to LIU Atlas.


                                                     LIU Atlas - The Progenitors


The Ludgonian Industrial Union’s galaxy contains billions of stars and planets. Unfortunately, most residents of the LIU could only name a handful of these worlds. In order to improve astronomy grades across the LIU, TV2 has started a new program called LIU Atlas. Follow our host, Terrance McDoogal, as he takes you on a tour across the LIU and some of its more obscure worlds.


Note: This episode is presented in full screen. The corresponding dialogue is underneath each photo.

Doog: “Welcome to Season Eight of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. If you watched the season finale of Season Seven, then you know I disappeared for a bit. I activated a ancient device, by accident, apparently, which transported me by unknown means to another world.”

Magistrate: “Why are you talking like that? Just tell us what happened.”
Doog: “I am, I am. But I’m also trying to make a TV Show, you know, for efficiency and stuff. The people are going to want to hear about the Progenitors.”
Magistrate: “If we don’t like what we hear, no one is ever going to see this. We’ll insure that you disappear for real this time… if you know what I mean.”
Doog: “Indeed. May I continue?”

Doog: “The travel I underwent in the device is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, at least, while I‘ve been sober. I’ve traveled via wormhole on a few occasions, like on Ignea Avis and Saccer Numos, but this was totally different. It was almost like I was standing still and the galaxy was expanding around me. Like a pocket of the galaxy had been locked away and finally opened. A bright star was the last to unfold. I was later told this star is called Primus Sidus. The Progenitors say it was the galaxy’s first star.”

Doog: “After the star emerged into existence, I started to move forward, but I didn’t see any planets. Before I knew what has happening, space began to unfold further. I was now in some sort of room, standing before a council of strange beings. They turned out to be the Progenitors.”

Doog: “Being the superb journalist that I am, I deflected their initial questions to buy myself time…”

Magistrate: “You ordered tacos. We saw that bit of footage. Not exactly first contact material.”
Doog: “Ok, fine…I panicked. Tacos were the first thing that came to mind. When you work a job that barely allows you to afford food, it’s hard not to have tacos on the mind. Speaking of which, where were we on the whole taco thing? Are there tacos coming or what?”
Magistrate: “There’s a bullet coming, if you say the word taco one more time. Please continue.”

Doog: “Ok, where was I? Oh yeah, so, my deflection worked. The Progenitors agreed that my travels may have caused some physical stresses. They were unsure how other beings, specifically, corporeal beings, would handle their transportation process. They took me into this amazing room.”
Magistrate: “What made it so amazing?”

Doog: “Practically anything I dreamed up sprang into existence. All my favorite foods and drinks just suddenly appeared right before me. It was a miraculous feast. I began to wonder what other things were possible in this magical room…”

Doog: “…but the Progenitors started to draw the line.”

Doog: “As I recovered from a food coma, I finally had to face some questions from the Progenitors. They were interested in how I solved their device. It was apparently left behind as some sort of test. Only a truly advanced race could have figured it out. Judging by how much the Progenitors talked up this device, I started to have doubts that my whole ‘look at it sideways’ approach was right. I tried to explain things as vaguely as possible.”

Progenitor: “I don’t understand. Perhaps some of your language’s syntax is being mistranslated. You said that you solved it by looking through different perspectives? Are you referring to dimensional perspectives?” 
Doog: “Uh, yeah. Totally. My race likes to speak in metaphors and stuff. You probably can‘t translate those…or something.”

Doog: “Anyway, after deflecting more questions, I finally turned the tables on the Progenitors. It was time for this journalist to get some information of my own.”

Doog: “Can I get your taco recipe? How did you make those appear like that? Can you make that happen on my ship?”

Magistrate: “Of all the questions you could have asked…you asked for a taco recipe!?”
Doog: “Relax, relax. I had other questions eventually. I found out a lot about the Progenitors.”
Magistrate: “Like what?”

Doog: “Well, I guess I should start at the beginning. The Progenitors is just the name we gave them. They refer to themselves as the Primum, which means ‘first’ in their language. They were the first sentient beings to emerge in this galaxy. They know this to be true, as their star, Primus Sidus, was one of the first stars to form in the fledgling galaxy.”

Doog: “Their homeworld, known as Vita Fons, was the system’s only planet. The stars of this age contained very few heavy elements or metals, so a planet like Vita Fons was extremely rare. The Primum evolved over the course of hundreds of millions of years, from single cell organisms, to sea-creatures, to land animals, to upright sentient beings. Pretty standard evolution stuff, or so I’m told. I may have missed a few parts of that whole process.”

Doog: “The Progenitors…excuse me…the Primum, were quick to master the basics of civilization: language, art, science, law, et cetera. Their culture quickly advanced. Violence, war, and resource competition were never part of this culture. It wasn’t in their genes. It allowed for a cooperative society that focused on survival, science, and satisfaction.” 

Doog: “With this mindset, the Primum advanced exponentially. They made great strides in science and technology. Eventually, they set their sights off world and became the galaxy’s first interstellar explorers.”

Doog: “As their technology advanced, the Primum explored more and more of the actively forming galaxy. However, at this point in galactic history, there were no other sentient beings to be found. Most of the worlds they encountered were too new or still too hostile for life. The Primum realized that the galaxy was a pretty lonely place.” 

Doog: “The Primum abandoned their hope of finding companionship in the stars, at least, for a while. This started a new age on Vita Fons, known as the Era of Self…or something like that. Food coma hit hard for a bit, and I did a bit of intermittent napping. Anyway, the Primum began focusing more on bettering themselves. I guess you can call it a period of introspection. The Primum would emerge from this era, which lasted millions of years, completely different than before.” 

Doog: “The Primum underwent many further forms of evolution during this period. Many of these were purposeful, physical manipulations of the body. Cybernetics and nanotechnology transformed the Primum from the corporeal beings they once were, to the energy beings they are now. Things got really deep from there. They were getting all philosophical and stuff. They said that all life is made from energy. Sometimes it is trapped in a physical restraint, like a body. They had only freed themselves from their physical restraints…or something like that.”

Doog: “Anywho, I was getting a bit sluggish. So, we stopped for a bit of dessert.”
Magistrate: “Feel free to cut out these impertinent segments of information.”
Doog: “Excuse me sir, but dessert is never irrelevant.”

Doog: “With millions of years passing, the Primum once gain set their eyes on exploration. Life, it seems, was now prevalent in the galaxy. Thousands of cultures of all imaginable forms had emerged during the Primum’s absence. Most were not very advanced.”

Doog: “The Primum’s energy bodies were not very viable away from Primus Sidus, their star, so they used advanced exo-suits when exploring. The primitive cultures at that time were mesmerized by the mechanical suits, often misinterpreting…”

Doog: “…the Primum as gods. The Primum found that it was difficult to have meaningful interaction with these lesser evolved species. I guess it is like finding an ant for the first time and trying to discuss poetry with it.”

Doog: “Many of the interactions between the Primum and other species led to negative changes to the latter. These species developed varying religions and mythology based on the Primum. This slowed their progress in science and technology. Varying religious views led to infighting and war. The Primum were dejected to have caused such a ripple in these species’ development. They agreed to once again retreat for a period of introspection.”

Doog: “Before retreating though, they made one last disturbing discovery. They had been too eager to explore the stars before the Era of Self. They had failed to take appropriate precautions during their explorations. They had, in fact, spread microorganisms from their homeworld to the millions of worlds they had visited. Many of these organisms evolved to cope with these new environments. The Primum had inadvertently seeded the galaxy with life."

Magistrate: “Are you saying that the Progenitor created all the races of the galaxy?”
Doog: “Not intentionally, and not every species. But you’ll note that many of the species in this galaxy have very similar features. Bi-pedal, eyes, mouth, vocal structures, and so on. The reason we are so similar, is because many of us evolved from a common microorganism. In fact, the Tironians and the Hiemiens, are just two of the millions of species that evolved from the microorganisms, that just so happen to have evolved similarly to the Primum.”
Magistrate: “So it’s more a convergent evolution thing?”
Doog: “I guess it’s a little bit of both. We are very similar at the core, but also very different. At this point, we share very little in common genetically, but at one point, we were all practically the same.”
Magistrate: “This is, of course, what you recollect from the Progenitors. You may be remembering incorrectly. We’ve seen your record, everything you’ve said here must be taken with a grain of salt.”
Doog: “I’m pretty sure I got that part right, but you can believe what you believe.”
Magistrate: “Noted. And where are these Progenitors now?”

Doog: “They have returned to introspection. They’re afraid their return will cause more damage. They do interact with us through various means though. They left behind clues to their existence that only advanced races could solve, including the star gardens and the temple on Euripus.”
Magistrate: “Yes, but, physically, where are they? Where is Primus Sidus and Vita Fons?”

Doog: “I honestly have no idea. According to the Primum, they have hidden their world from the rest of the galaxy until more species truly awaken, whatever that means.”
Magistrate: “Have we not awakened? We have reversed engineered many of the Progenitors’ technologies. Do they fear us?”
Doog: “I’m not sure, but I don’t think they necessarily mean technologically. I think they are looking for intellectual equals. I’m sure the LIU doesn’t care what I think, but I think the science behind the temple on Euripus is the key to finding the Progenitors.”
Magistrate: “So, you don’t know how to find them again?”
Doog: “I don’t know how I found them in the first place. I think they figured that out after a while. They began pressing the issue on solving the Euripus device. They asked how many levels of space we’ve found. I could only name three: hyperspace, subspace, and real space. That apparently was the nail in the coffin.”
Magistrate: “So there is more?”
Doog: “You’re asking the wrong guy.”
Magistrate: “Very well.”

Magistrate: “We appreciate you being so forthcoming. Of course, we’ll need to re-interview you a few hundred times to make sure we have all the information.”
Doog: “Then I’m free? What about my crew?”
Magistrate: “Free? Nope. You guys will, at the least, being doing some hard labor for your actions. After that, well, the LIU Executives will decide.”
Doog: “Hmm...and the taco situation? How will that be resolved?”
Magistrate: “I told you I was going to shoot you in the face if you continued with these taco requests…”
Doog: “Well yeah, but that was before the whole hard labor thing. I thought I’d risk it. Face shot might be better than labor.”

Doog: “Well folks, the Primum were pretty interesting. They are much more advanced than I could ever explain. They are rightfully referred to as the Progenitors, as it is evident that they are a common ancestor to almost all advanced races in the galaxy. Besides that, they have also been ingrained in galactic culture. They are worshiped by some. Their technology helps others. Even their language, and the names they gave all the planets, play important roles in the galaxy. I wish I had more time to figure out even more. Maybe we will advance enough to visit them in a official capacity next time. Who knows. See ya!”



Note: Most of the stars and planets in the LIU Galaxy have names derived from the Progenitor’s language. This language is often referred to as the Ancient Language. Some inhabitants of the galaxy received these names from the Progenitors themselves, others were derived from recovered Progenitor maps.

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