Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting a rocky, desert planet called Vesica. Vesica is sparsely populated - only a few hundred people call this planet home. That’s because Vesica has very little water and no food. Why would anyone want to live here? Let’s find out.”

Doog: “Alright folks, I’ve been dropped off outside of a walled complex on the surface of Vesica. The big walls and chained gate have me worried. Why are they needed? What’s out here? Hey! Someone let me in!”

Beckett: “Who da heck is making all this racket?”
Doog: “I am. Let me in!”
Beckett: “Who is you?”
Doog: “I’m Doog.”
Beckett: “I didn’t order no Doog’s.”
Doog: “What? I’m not selling Doog’s, I am Doog.”
Beckett: “Whatcha sellin’ then?”
Doog: “I’m not selling anything! I’m here to do a show about this planet.”
Beckett: “Ah, you’s the TV reporter.”
Doog: “Yes! Now let me in before something gets me!”
Beckett: “Is something out there? I aint openin’ da door if there’s something out there. My kinfolk’s in here.”
Doog: “There’s nothing out here at the moment, but I’m assuming the walls are in place for something.”
Beckett: “Well, stop all that panickin’ then. You’re worse than a cat on a hot tin roof. Let me get the key.”

Beckett: “Welcome to my homestead. I’m Beckett. That’s my ol’ lady, Patty, and my boy, Beckett Jr.”
Doog: “Phew. Thanks for letting me in. Nice to meet you all.”
Beckett: “You need a water or somethin’? You’re awfully sweaty.”
Doog: “No, I’m good now. I saw the walls and panicked. I’ve had too many close calls over the years. Speaking of which, we are safe now, right?”
Beckett: “Yeah. Nothing’s getting through these walls. That’s why we built them.”
Doog: “Phew. That’s good to hear.”

Beckett: “Unfortunately, the dang walls took up most of our startup credits. There wasn’t much left for an actual home.”
Doog: “I’m sure you’ll get a home eventually. You have to make some credits out here – why else would you move here?”
Beckett: “Make credits! Ha! That’s the biggest fib in this here galaxy!”
Doog: “What do you mean?”
Beckett: “We moved here cus’ they say there’s profit to be made on this here rock, but they sure didn’t tell us about all the costs.”
Doog: “Like the walls?”
Beckett: “Walls, water, food, fuel, ammo, and this big robot fella.”
Doog: “You need this robot?”
Beckett: “Well, I sure aint liftin’ no blob urchins on my own, if you catch my drift.”
Doog: “I don’t catch your drift. What’s a blob urchin?”
Beckett: “Part of our ‘profit’ on Vesica. I reckon I’ll grab my rifle and show ya.”

Doog: “Should we really head out? You spent all that money on these walls. Let’s not let them go to waste.”
Beckett: “Don’t be no scaredy-cat, boy. With this here rifle and big tin-head, we’ll be safer than a Plumbart eatin’ dreamfruit.”
Doog: “I have no idea what that means.”
Beckett: “I don’t either, to be honest. Sounded good though, right?”

Doog: “So, these blob things are the danger out here?”
Beckett: “Bless your heart, boy. Aint no danger in blob urchins. Heck, that’s what we’re out here lookin’ for.”
Doog: “I assumed they were dangerous because you said you needed a robot to handle them.”
Beckett: “I need a robot cus’ a blob urchin is heavy. Also, I don’t like their gross sticky slime. They smell kinda bad too.”
Doog: “If the blobs aren’t the danger…then what is?”
Beckett: “The predator that eats blob urchins…”

Beckett: “…like this one here.”
Doog: “Holy crap. It’s a giant scorpion. By giant, I mean it’s close to the size of a car.”
Beckett: “Not a scorpion. It doesn’t have claws. It’s a Dhadao.”
Doog: “This isn’t the time for semantics. It has a huge stinger tail.”

Beckett: “Yeah, that stinger is big enough to make a me and you kabob. Don’t stand so close.”
Doog: “You don’t have to tell me twice. I’m getting behind the robot.”
Beckett: “The mouth pinchers aint no walk in the park either. It can easily take a limb.”
Doog: How about less scary facts and more about how we’re dealing with this thing. We shouldn’t have left the walls!”

Beckett: “Boy, you’re about as worthless as a screen door on space station. Quit your fussin’. Dhadao are no match for the rifle.”

Doog: “Is it dead?”
Beckett: “Its brains are leakin’ out its mouth. I’m gonna say yes.”
Doog: “I understand the walls now.”
Beckett: “Yeah, you should have been here at the beginning – before the walls. I slept with my rifle for a few months.”
Doog: “Yikes.”
Beckett: “Well, we better get to movin’. I reckon there are more Dhadao in the area.”
Doog: “You’re just going to leave it out here?”
Beckett: “You wanna bury it and have a ceremony or somethin’?”
Doog: “No, but can’t you use any of this? Food or something?”
Beckett: “Heck no! Dhadao eat blob urchins, and blob urchins eat bacteria. Eat that, and you’ll be at death’s door in ten minutes.”
Doog: “Fair enough.”

Beckett: “That’s a sight for sore eyes. Two blob urchins.”
Doog: “They really are blobs, aren’t they?”
Beckett: “Well yeah, we aint calling them that for fun.”
Doog: “They’re all flabby and slimy. They have tentacles too.”
Beckett: “Yep. They’re slicker than Kaadu snot.”
Doog: “You said they eat bacteria, right?”
Beckett: “Yeah. They ooze around the dirt and rocks, scoopin’ up bacteria in their goop. The bacteria are then absorbed into the urchins using some type of science. What’s that thing again, robot?”
Robot: “INTERMOLECULAR CONSUMPTION.”
Beckett: “Yeah, that.”

Doog: “What do you collect from them? Slime?”
Beckett: “Urine.”
Doog: “Pardon me?”
Beckett: “Urine, pee, wizz…must I go on?”
Doog: “Why would you want blob urine?”
Beckett: “Those bacteria they eat are special. They are that one thing…robot, what are they?”
Robot: “CHEMOTROPHS.”
Beckett: “Yeah, that’s it. The bacteria eat the minerals in the soil. When the blob eats them, the blob picks-up them minerals too.”
Doog: “And…. they eventually pee those minerals out.”
Beckett: “Yep.”
Doog: “That leaves just one unanswered question. How does one collect urine from a blob?”

Beckett: “That’s where my pal, robot, comes in handy. He gets all up in their undersides and squeezes da forbidden lemonade straight from their bladders.”
Doog: “I don’t think I can show this on TV. Ugh, and that smells terrible too.”
Beckett: “That smell is the concentrated urine. Them blob urchins don’t be wasting no water.”

Doog: “What chemical is possibly worth this much trouble?”
Beckett: “Robot, do the thing.”
Robot: “THE URINE IS HIGH IN SODIUM HEXAFLUOROALUMINATE, ALSO KNOWN AS CRYOLITIC SALT.”
Beckett: “That’s the stuff.”
Doog: “You fight death-scorpions and violate blob creatures for SALT?”
Beckett: “Not the eatin’ kind. The crystal kind. Makes glass or something. Robot, tell um.”
Robot: “CRYLITIC SALT HAS A MODERATE MOHS HARDNESS AND LOW REFRACTIVE INDEX. WHEN IMMERSED IN WATER, CRYOLITIC SALTS ARE ESSENTIALLY INVISIBLE. THEY ARE AN INGREDIENT IN MAKING WINDOWS FOR SUBMARINES AND UNDERWATER HABITATS.”
Doog: “Remind to wash my hands when touching underwater glass. I didn’t know that stuff was made from blob pee.”

Doog: “Let’s just take a moment and appreciate these walls. Sweet security!”
Beckett: “It’s nice to be back, but the bunker aint my favorite spot in the homestead.”
Doog: “Bunker?”
Beckett: “Yeah, where processing gets done. Follow me”

Doog: “Ew, sick. It smells terrible down here.”
Beckett: “That there urine smells bad on its own, but it gets worse when you boil it.”
Doog: “Indeed. Why are you doing that?”
Beckett: “Gettin’ rid of the last little bits of water.”

Beckett: “Dry salt crystals gets packaged up and shipped out. Usually, we trade it for food, water, fuel, and ammo. The little that’s left gets sold for profit.”
Doog: “How much profit are we talking?”
Beckett: “I reckon I might be able to finish my home in thirty years or so.”
Doog: “Not a lot. Got it. Well, anything else to add?”
Beckett: “Nope, but I think we better get out of here. We left the door open. All the bad air is gettin’ out.”

Doog: “Well folks, that’s Vesica. Poor settlers on this world work in hard, dangerous conditions to make underwater glass. It’s sort of ironic, given the lack of water on this planet. Oh – I forgot the weirdest part – they make this glass from the urine of a blob-like creature. Yeah, you heard that right. Well, on to the next one. See ya!”
 
Note: Cryolitic salts are shipped to planets like Cicatrix, where they are processed into glass products.

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting an extremely important planet called Halavi. Halavi is an industrial agriculture world, meaning that it grows crops for industrial purposes. Whatever this purpose is, it must be very important. I’m not allowed to land directly on Halavi.”

​Doog: “Instead, I’ve been dropped off on a quarantine station in orbit around the planet. I must stay here until I’m deemed 100% aseptic. I can’t have any traces of bacteria, viruses, or parasites. Hopefully, this won’t take long.”
​
 
Two Months Later…

Doog: “Well folks, that lasted a little longer than expected. Apparently, I had quite a few…uh… venereal diseases. I’ve literally been trapped on this station for almost two months. Finally, I’ve been given permission to land on Halavi. Let’s go.”

Doog: “Alright, I’m finally been dropped off on the surface of Halavi. It’s temperate, breezy, and sunny. There’s a nice aroma in the air, presumably from the planet’s plant life. Are these plants Halavi’s industrial export? Maybe. Let’s not speculate. I see my guide coming now. Oh great, he’s a Fornacin. That’s always a good time.”

Klopka: “Human male, I am Klopka. I have been tasked with showing you the LIU’s operation on Halavi.”
Doog: “Sounds good. My name’s Doog, if you were wondering.”
Klopka: “I was not.”
Doog: “Ok then. I should have known. So, what can you tell me about this place?”
Klopka: “Halavi’s export is breathable air.”
Doog: “So, in other words, oxygen?”
Klopka: “Breathable air is not pure oxygen, you dolt. Standard atmosphere only has about 20% oxygen.”
Doog: “You learn something new every day. So, what’s the other eighty percent made up of?”
Klopka: “Mostly nitrogen, but trace amounts of argon and carbon dioxide.”
Doog: “Got it. How do the plants figure in?”
Klopka: “They are able to convert chemicals in the air and soil into breathable air. And, once again, I don’t mean oxygen. I mean breathable standard atmosphere.”
Doog: “Got it. And you export breathable atmosphere?”
Klopka: “Yes.”

BOOM…CRACKLE
Doog: “Holy Kaadu! What was that?!”
Klopka: “Oxygen fixation. The machine uses powerful bursts of electricity to remove excess oxygen from the air. Bonds it into nitrogen dioxide.”
Doog: “Geez, a heads up would have been appreciated. Good thing I wore my brown pants!”
Klopka: “Sorry, next time we’ll allow the oxygen to skyrocket out of control for your comfort. It might make the whole sky burn and kill us all, but at least you’ll be in your safe space.”
Doog: “Hey! I’m no snowflake – I just don’t like surprise explosions of electricity behind my head.”

Doog: “Why remove oxygen? I thought you were making breathable air?”
Klopka: “For the LAST time, breathable air does not equal OXYGEN! Oxygen only makes up a small portion of standard atmosphere! We must retain the ratio – 80/20.”
Doog: “Oh yeah, I forgot about that part already. That ear-shattering bolt of lightning sort of blanked my mind. So, how does this very loud lightning machine work?”
Klopka: “When the sensors detect excess oxygen levels, they fire of bursts of energy – you know, the ones you’ve been whining about. The bursts fuse oxygen and nitrogen in the air into nitrogen dioxide.”
Doog: “Dioxide means two, right? So that means you remove two atoms of oxygen, but only one atom of nitrogen.”
Klopka: “Which lowers the oxygen in relation to the nitrogen, restoring the ideal ratio.”
Doog: “Got it. How often does this thing fire off?”
Klopka: “It depends. It could be once a day; it could be three times a minute.”
Doog: “Uh, maybe we should get moving.”

Doog: “How do these plants figure in? I don’t think we ever discussed that.”
Klopka: “The flora species of Halavi are efficient atmosphere scrubbers. Obviously, like most plant-species, they can convert carbon dioxide into oxygen, but these unique species can also convert other oxides into oxygen – like carbon monoxide and sulfur dioxide. They also have another useful ability – denitrification.”
Doog: “De-what?”
Klopka: Denitrification. They can convert nitrogen compounds stored in the soil into atmospheric nitrogen.”
Doog: “So, these plants are like perfect breathable-air factories.”
Klopka: “Yes. That is why Halavi is a sanctuary world. The flora here is precious.”
Doog: “That explains the quarantine station.”
Klopka: “Yes. The flora here must remain pristine. We can’t risk pests or disease.”

Doog: “You say pristine, yet we’re being passed by exhaust-spewing tanker trucks.”
Klopka: “Vehicle exhaust is mostly oxides. It’s easily converted back into oxygen by these plants.”
Doog: “Makes sense. Why are there trucks driving through here though?”
Klopka: “The native range of these plants was quite small. To make their ability useful on the industrial scale, we’ve artificially increased their range. That means trucking in water, soil, and nutrients.”

Doog: “Tell me this isn’t another – bigger – lightning machine.”
Klopka: “Don’t worry, Sally. You have nothing to be afraid of.”
Doog: “I’m not afraid, I just don’t think my pants can handle another load.”
Klopka: “Disgusting.”
Doog: “I kid, I kid. But seriously, what is this place?”
Klopka: “It’s a waste gas release station.”
Doog: “Waste gas release? Like, you’re releasing unbreathable air?”
Klopka: “Yes.”
Doog: “Why? I thought the plants are going through all this trouble to make the gas breathable.”

Klopka: “Like I mentioned earlier, we export breathable air. In order to maintain a proper atmosphere, we need to replace the air we’re shipping out. That means importing waste air from other worlds and tapping into underground pockets of gas on this planet.”
Doog: “So, this waste gas is stuff that can be filtered and converted by the plants here.”
Klopka: “Yes. It’s mostly carbon monoxide and carbon dioxide. It’s released in a controlled manner with stations like this.”
Doog: “Controlled manner?”
Klopka: “We don’t want to displace the natural atmosphere by releasing it all at once. It is slowly diffused into the atmosphere as determined by atmospheric pressure sensors.”
Doog: “The waste gases are released from here?”

Klopka: “No, moron. We can’t release it all in one spot. It’s diffused through pipelines like the one behind us.”
Doog: “I’m diffusing some waste gas of my own as we walk. Better stay upwind.”
Klopka: “I hope you’re kidding human male. Methane doesn’t fit into our atmospheric cycle.”
Doog: “People aren’t allowed to fart here? No wonder you’re so cranky.”
Klopka: “Grrr, idiot. I’m not even responding to that.”

Doog: “Where are we going now? This looks like a warehouse.”
Klopka: “It’s a train station.”
Doog: “A train station? Why are we going here?”
Klopka: “Why would we be going to a train station, hmm? Perhaps to catch an airplane. No, that can’t be right. That would be called an airport. Hmm, what a mystery!”
Doog: “I like mysteries.”
Klopka: “It’s NOT a mystery! Idiot! I was being ironic. We’re obviously here to catch a TRAIN!”

Doog: “I might be an ‘idiot’ as you say, but I feel like we’re doing this wrong. Why are we on top of the train and not inside it?”
Klopka: “This isn’t really meant to be a passenger train. It’s for moving cargo, chemicals, and fertilizer between the sanctuary fields and the city.”
Doog: “The city? There’s a city out here somewhere?”
Klopka: “Yes. It’s called Adhalo. Adhalo is the only major city on Halavi. It’s situated in the mountains, hundreds of miles away from the sanctuary fields. That way, the city and her industries don’t disturb the important natural flora.”
Doog: “Hundreds of miles?”
Klopka: “Yeah. Get comfortable. We won’t reach Adhalo till nightfall.”
​
 
Five hours later… 

Doog: “I dozed off for a bit there. Things look a lot different now.”
Klopka: “That’s because we’re in the city.”
Doog: “Well, that I understand. It’s the mass of people now riding this train with us that is confusing. Does Adhalo have a hobo problem or something?”
Klopka: “What! No, of course not! People here utilize the top of the cargo train to get around the city.”

Klopka: “It’s so commonplace that there are actually building exits at train height. Riding the top of this train is encouraged.”

Doog: “Are these buildings all atmosphere factories?”
Klopka: “No. Some make containers to hold atmosphere. Some produce filtering hardware. Some manufacture atmospheric additives for non-standard races. Some of these buildings house workers and their families as well.”

Klopka: “Atmocline, the breathable-air exporter, is the last stop. If we don’t exit here, we get crushed in the tunnel ahead. Actually, maybe you should try that.”
Doog: “Nice try, Klopka, but the only thing I’m getting crushed by is an overweight prostitute at the next brothel I see. I’ve been in quarantine for months.”
Klopka: “There aren’t any brothels in Adhalo.”
Doog: “And they call this place a sanctuary…”

Klopka: “Atmocline bottles breathable air, but, first, it needs to undergo some processing.”
Doog: “I’m guessing this freezing cold room is the processing.”
Klopka: “Yes. Cryogenic Air Distillation separates the captured air into its varying gases. Sensor readings determine if the air mixture is properly ratioed. The process also helps remove trace amounts of unwanted gas.”
Doog: “Like those methane farts I’ve been pumping out.”
Klopka: “Sigh. Yes.”
Doog: “Then what?”
Klopka: “Once the chamber equalizes to standard atmosphere, the mixture is reheated and bottled.”

Klopka: “Pressurized atmosphere containers are then shipped out across the galaxy.”
Doog: “What is it used for?”
Klopka: “Breathing, numbskull.”
Doog: “I know that, but where is it used.”
Klopka: “Places where people want to breathe?”
Doog: “Like?”
Klopka: “Spacecraft, space stations, and environmental suits.”
Doog: “That’s what I was looking for. Well, anything else to add?”

Doog: “I guess not. He’s walking away. Well folks, that’s Halavi. This episode might have taken a few months, but we did get a look at one of the more important worlds in the galaxy. Halavi and its rare plants make breathable gases for ships, space stations, and environmental suits. I’m dreading going back to my ship and facing the crew after a two-month delay. They might be a little upset that this took so long. Oh well, see ya!”
 
 
Note: To avoid contamination, non-standard atmospheres are bottled on different planets.

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting a Mid-Rim terrestrial planet called Hortulanus. Hortulanus is a cold, mountainous world. The planet can be divided into three geological categories: frozen polar regions, icy mountain plateaus, and semi-arid valleys. I’m told that there is a variety of unique life on Hortulanus – including a sentient species. I’m also told that some of this life is Hortulanus’ primary export. Let’s head down and figure it out.”

Doog: “Alright folks, I’ve been dropped off in a settlement that appears to be on one of the planet’s icy plateaus. It’s cold, obviously, and the air seems a bit thinner than standard. That could be the elevation, though. There’s a spattering of building, here. Most seem to have support poles driven into the ice. I guess that’s the easiest way to secure a foundationless building on the ice sheet. I have no idea if that’s true, but it sounds good. I think I’m just rambling to stay warm at this point.”

Taiga: “Welcome to Research Post Alpha. I’m Taiga Kang, the Research Director.”
Doog: “Oh, that was fast. I’m Doog.”
Taiga: “Yeah, I figured. Well, where should we start?”
Doog: “I don’t know. Tell me about this place.”
Taiga: “Research Post Alpha is one of three LIU settlements on Hortulanus. Research Post is a bit of a misnomer, though. This place doesn’t do research these days.”
Doog: “Why is that?”
Taiga: “Well, this place has been around for over a decade. There’s nothing left to research, well, nothing profitable anyway.”
Doog: “So, why are you still here?”
Taiga: “Because we researched something that turned out to be profitable. Now, we focus on that.”
Doog: “And what’s that?”
Taiga: “Some of the native life. You won’t find any in our post, though. We’ll need to head out.”
Doog: “Lead the way.”

Taiga: “Luckily for us, the natives also live on the ice sheet. Their settlements are close by.”
Doog: “They live in little huts, but they seem to have some technology. Weird.”
Taiga: “The technology is ours. We gifted it to the Hortu to make them easier to find.”
Doog: “Easier to find? Are they your profitable export?”
Taiga: “Not at all, but they have their uses. They know this environment well. They are useful scouts.”

Doog: “They’re called the Hortu?”
Taiga: “Yes. The Hortu are a young race that has only recently began primitive agriculture.”
Doog: “Agriculture on the ice? How?”

Taiga: “They raise and herd another native species called Dramphas. Dramphas are very useful. They have meat, obviously. They also have thick furry hides – good for making clothing and leather. The Hortu depend on the Dramphas for survival.”
Doog: “So, they’re not the export, right? The natives would die without them.”
Taiga: “Correct.”
Doog: “That just leaves one question – what do the Drampa…Draffaa…what do the fluff-rats eat? I don’t see anything other than ice.”

Taiga: “The Dramphas are herbivores. They eat shrubbery found in the lower elevations.”
Doog: “Why herd the fluff-rats on the ice then? Why not keep them down there, in the lowlands?”
Taiga: “It would make sense on paper, but you don’t have the full picture, yet. The lower elevations are dangerous. There are predators there. The ice sheet is much, much safer.”
Doog: “Predators? And they don’t come up here on the ice?”
Taiga: “Correct. The predators have no method of piercing the ice, so they can never make it up here.”
Doog: “So, the Hortu collect the plants in the dangerous valleys. They feed it to the fluff-rats up here where they are safe.”
Taiga: “Exactly.”
Doog: “Why do I have the feeling that these predators are your export, and we’re heading down into this dangerous valley?”
Taiga: “Because you’re a mind reader?”

Doog: “Holy Kaadu…what is that?”
Taiga: “That is the aforementioned predator, Casoerus Furuus. We call them Mawguts. They’re essentially a giant mouth and a gullet.”
Doog: “Lots of tentacles too.”
Taiga: “Yep.”

Taiga: “Mawguts eat anything they can get their tentacles on – Dramphas, Hortu, Humans, etc. They’re typically ambush predators. They launch out of the loose regolith of the valley floor and grab any lifeforms nearby.”
Doog: “Are we safe?”
Taiga: “We’re fine up here. The mountain bedrock and ice prevent them from coming up here. They can’t burst through it like they can the valley floor.”
Doog: “Wait, are you telling me these things are mobile?”
Taiga: “Yes. Mawguts move underground via a series of tunnels. They pop out when they detect prey.”
Doog: “I won’t be going down there…ever.”
Taiga: “Me neither.”

Taiga: “Unfortunately, the Dramphas have to come down here to feed. This is where the shrubbery grows. As I said earlier, the Hortu come down here as well – to collect food for their herds. Many Dramphas and Hortu lose their lives to Mawguts every week.”
Doog: “It looks like one of those fluff-rats ventured too close.”
Taiga: “Yes, regrettably.”

Taiga: “Once a Mawgut gets you into its mouth, it’s game over. Their mouth and gullet are lined with razor sharp fangs. You’re shredded to bits before you reach the stomach.”
Doog: “Yikes. Why would you want to export these things? How do you export them without getting eaten?”
Taiga: “We’ll talk about that back at the Research Post, where it’s safer.”
Doog: “You’ll get no arguments from me.”

Doog: “Hortul-Green Anus-House? I don’t think I want to go in there.”
Taiga: “It says Hortulanus Greenhouse.”
Doog: “That makes more sense. Sort of. Why are we at a greenhouse? Are you guys growing plants to feed the fluff-rats?”
Taiga: “No, we’re growing…”

Taiga: “…Mawguts.”
Doog: “Growing them in a greenhouse? Like plants?”
Taiga: “Mawguts are plants, technically. Their ‘tentacles’ are modified roots. Their teeth are modified thorns.”
Doog: “But they eat stuff and move around.”
Taiga: “Yes. They are very advanced, very evolved plants. We believe that their species struggled as traditional plants. The valley floor lacks proper nutrition. They probably started to develop predatory features to supplement their nutrition. Through evolution, these supplemental features got better and better until they surpassed the plant’s ability to photosynthesize. They could get all the nutrition and energy through predation.”
Doog: “So, they’re plants that got so good at hunting that they no longer needed photosynthesis?”
Taiga: “That’s the theory. As you can see, they’re not green. There’s no chlorophyll anymore, but they still have a lot of chemical markers identical to plants.”

Doog: “The greenhouse thing makes some sense now – even though they are no longer remotely close to traditional plants.”
Taiga: “Ah, but they do have another holdover of plant biology. They still reproduce via pollination, and they still produce seeds.”
Doog: “The greenhouse is making more and more sense. You pollinate and grow young Mawguts from seeds.”
Taiga: “Yes.”
Doog: “That also explains how you are able to export them without being eaten.”
Taiga: “We can export their seeds or smaller, safer saplings.”
Doog: “I guess all that’s left is the why. Why export monstrous, killer plants?”

Taiga: “Mawguts are like biological garbage disposals. They can digest any type of biological material – even if it’s rotten or poisoned.”
Doog: “That makes them useful to people?”
Taiga: “Sure. Plant one in your garbage dump and watch it get rid of all the stinking food scraps. Plant one to throw all your dead into. Plant one in a hospital to safely get rid of biological medical waste Heck, the Mawguts have other uses too. Have a pest problem? Plant a Mawgut. Need to attack an enemy? Plant a Mawgut.”
Doog: “That all sounds good, but aren’t Mawguts mobile?”
Taiga: “Yes, precautions need to be taken. You’ll want to plant it within some type of barrier system so it can’t get away.”
Doog: “I see. Well, I don’t think I’ll be needing or wanting one anytime soon.”
Taiga: “Your loss.”

​Taiga: “Mawgut seeds and seedlings are shipped in special containers. They maintain the correct conditions for survival. They also help prevent ecological disasters.”
Doog: “What do you mean?”
Taiga: “They are code-locked. They can only be opened by the proper receiver. That way, if the transport carrying them crashes, they can’t get out. We learned that one the hard way.”
Doog: “I see. Say, if I wanted to buy one – and I really don’t – how much does one of these terrifying plants cost?”
Taiga: “They’re not cheap. Mawguts have a lifespan close to one-hundred years. Their voraciousness doesn’t vary throughout its lifespan either. Customers are buying a century of biological consumption.”
Doog: “So, like ten credits? Or what?”
Taiga: “What! No! Mawguts cost thousands of credits. Tens of thousands.”
Doog: “Oh, wow. I was way off. I really couldn’t afford one even if I wanted one. Well, anything else to add?”
Taiga: “Nope. We covered the basics.”

Doog: “Well folks, that’s Hortulanus. This icy world is home to crazy plant-like creatures called Mawguts. These horrifying creatures can eat any biological material. There’s also some sentient life and small fluff-rat creatures. Of course, out of three advanced lifeforms on this plant, the LIU exports the murderous ones. Oh well, see ya!”
 
 
Note: A Mawgut was released on the planet Abiit to help control the rodent and cat populations. The beast succeeded in eliminating both pests, but it also eliminated dozens of other species, including the sentient settlers. The incident spurred the creation of the Mawgut Act, which required purchasers to construct proper barriers before planting any Mawgut. The Act also requires Mawgut to be transported in code-locked containers. This portion of the law was prompted by the Ridgecrust Crash Incident. For more information, search ‘the Ridgecrust Massacre’ on your LIUpad.
​

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the planet, Hirsutus. Hirsutus is a temperate planet in the galaxy’s inner-rim. The majority of the planet consists of grasslands, but it does have some other features, like mountains, deserts, and tundras. We’ll be mainly focusing on Hirsutus’ grasslands – that’s where the action is. Let’s head down and check it out.”

Doog: “Alright folks, I’ve been dropped off in the city of Tonsio, the planet’s only major settlement. Tonsio is the export hub for all of Hirsutus. Everything produced, manufactured, or grown on this planet flows through Tonsio.”

Doog: “It looks like a pretty standard city. There are shops, restaurants, and apartment complexes. It isn’t as crowded as some of the other cities I’ve visited, but I’m not complaining.”

Caitlin: “Stop here.”
Taxi-Bot: “Sure.”
Caitlin: “I’ll be back, so don’t go anywhere.”
Taxi-Bot: “The meters running.”
Caitlin: “That’s fine.”
Taxi-Bot: “It’s your credits.”

Caitlin: “You’re Doog, right?”
Doog: “What gave it away? My looks? My uncanny sense of fashion?”
Caitlin: “Actually, it’s the hovercam following your every move.”
Doog: “Or that.”
Caitlin: “Either way, welcome to Hirsutus. I’m Caitlin, your planetary guide.”
Doog: “Nice to meet you, Caitlin.”
Caitlin: “Let’s keep the pleasantries short, we’re on the meter.”
Doog: “We get to take a taxi instead of walking? I think I’m in love with you.”
Caitlin: “Don’t make this weird.”

Doog: “So, what can you tell us about Tonsio?”
Caitlin: “Tonsio is port-town, most of our economy revolves around exporting Hirsutus’ goods. Companies, like D&H Shipping and Hirtus Freight, are some of our biggest employers.”
Doog: “What goods are they exporting?”
Caitlin: “Fur, mostly.”
Doog: “Fur?!”
Caitlin: “Yes, of course. Hirsutus is home to the Villosus, large grazing beasts with thick fur. This fur is collected and sent to Tonsio. Here, it is either shipped raw, processed into fabrics, or turned into garments.”
Doog: “So, there are factories here as well.”
Caitlin: “A few.”

Caitlin: “These large companies brought several hundred people here to work. Others followed – mostly in service roles.”
Doog: “Like the restaurants and stores.”
Caitlin: “Yes. And, believe it or not, we actually have a decent tourism industry. People like to come here to see the Villosus.”
Doog: “Speaking of which, I haven’t seen a single fur-beast-thingy. Where are they hiding? Do I have to pay to see them?”
Caitlin: “They are called Villosus, and no, we’re not hiding them. They just aren’t in the city.”
Doog: “Well, what are we waiting for?”

Caitlin: “The Villosus are voracious eaters; they’re practically insatiable. They eat all the time. They can only survive in large, uninterrupted grasslands. That’s why you won’t see them near the city.”
Doog: “How far out do we need to go?”
Caitlin: “Not too much further. We’re approaching their feeding range.”
Doog: “They need this much food?”
Caitlin: “They’re close to the size of a bus, if that means anything to you.”
Doog: “Geez.”

Doog: “What’s this?”
Caitlin: “These are the only buildings you’ll find outside of Tonsio. They’re called Shearing Shacks. The natives herd the Villosus here on occasion to be sheared or trimmed.”
Doog: “I don’t see any bus-sized animals.”
Caitlin: “Bad timing, I guess.”
Doog: “I usually attract large unruly beasts, if my dating record is any indication.”
Caitlin: “Uh…moving on. There’s a few thousand ‘Shearing Shacks’ positioned around Hirsutus. Some are a few miles away. Others are hundreds of miles away, but they all operate pretty similarly.”
Doog: “Hundreds of miles?”
Caitlin: “Yes, the feeding pastures of the Villosus are massive. They cover a large percentage of the planet.”
Doog: “Why not have multiple cities then?”
Caitlin: “And take up more pasture space? I think not. Fur is non-perishable good. The Villosus can be sheared thousands of miles away, and their fur delivered to Tonsio weeks after.”

Caitlin: “It looks like a Villosus has been recently trimmed. This shack has a lot of fur sitting around.”
Doog: “It reminds me of my ship’s shower drain.”
Caitlin: “Ugh. Thanks for that image.”

Caitlin: “Most of the shearing shacks are equipped to process Villosus fur at the basic level.”
Doog: “Like what?”
Caitlin: “Like combing machines. Simply put, they comb the fur for impurities, like dirt and waste. The raw fur textiles are shipped to Tonsio for more advanced processing.”

Caitlin: “The combed fur is weighed and shipped in bundles of a hundred pounds. Those hundred pounds translates loosely into a thousand miles of yarn. Of course, that process takes place in Tonsio, not the shack.”
Doog: “Let’s talk less about fabric math, and more about giant creatures.”
Caitlin: “You have zero patience, don’t you?”
Doog: “I just want to skip to the fun part.”
Caitlin: “Alright, let’s go find us a Villosus.”

Doog: “Holy Emperor…you weren’t kidding. These things are huge.”
Caitlin: “They’re roughly 5 meters tall at the shoulder, and they weigh about 7 tons.”
Doog: “That’s some of my ex-girlfriend’s stats right there.”
Caitlin: “I doubt it.”
Doog: “I’m obviously kidding, she’s way shorter.”

Doog: “I guess it makes sense that they need to eat a lot.”
Caitlin: “It does, especially when you consider the lack of nutrition in these grasses. They need to consume 150 kilograms of grass a day to maintain their massive bodies.”
Doog: “That’s a lot.”
Caitlin: “It is. This food requirement limits the amount of Villosus in any given area. It also forces the Villosus to be migratory. They need to keep moving to new areas if they want to continue grazing.”

Doog: “What about these guys with the spears?”
Caitlin: “They are this planet’s native race.”
Doog: “Hirsutus has native sentient life?”
Caitlin: “Yes. They are called the Vanofamba, which loosely translates to – the travelers.”
Doog: “The travelers? That’s an odd name.”
Caitlin: “Not when you consider their nomadic lifestyle. The Vanofamba follow the Villosus across the planet.”
Doog: “Why?”
Caitlin: “The Villosus are the natives’ only source of food.”
Doog: “The natives eat these huge beasts?!”

Caitlin: “They don’t eat their meat; they drink their milk.”
Doog: “Milk?”
Caitlin: “Yes, female Villosus produce a rich milk to feed their young. It’s practically fifty percent fat.”
Doog: “Gross. You guys don’t collect that too, do you?”
Caitlin: “No, there’s no market for milk that fattening. Besides, it’s the sole source of nutrition for the Vanofamba.”
Doog: “Gotcha. So, are the Fambojamos in on the fur trade?”
Caitlin: “Vanofamba, and yes – in a way. They are responsible for herding the Villosus towards the shearing shacks.”
Doog: “Are they paid for this duty?”
Caitlin: “Not with credits, no. They do get a benefit though. Sheared Villosus are less susceptible to disease. If they stay healthier, the natives get healthier milk.”
Doog: “I don’t think I’d work for milk, even if it was healthier. Well, Caitlin, anything else to add?”
Caitlin: “I think we’ve covered everything.”

Doog: “Well folks, Hirsutus is an interesting place. It’s home to these huge animals that wander the grasslands feeding. A race of sentient beings has coevolved with them. Both the natives and the creatures travel these grasslands together. It sounds like a whole lot of walking – not really my thing. Anyways, these beasts happen to have a lot of hair or fur that can be turned into textiles. Off-world workers shear and process this fur so it can be turned into yarn, fabric, and garments. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to get away from this massive hairball. It’s getting a little too close. Oh well, see ya!”
 
 
Note: Villosus fur is a great insulator and is extremely water resistant. This fibrous textile is often used for outerwear, like jackets, blazers, and cardigans.

Doog: “Welcome to Season Fourteen of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the moon, Unicus, which orbits the gas giant, Utut. Unicus is a carbon world, a moon or planet that is carbon-rich and oxygen-poor. The majority of the planet consists of carbon allotropes, like graphite, graphene, and various carbides. Even the atmosphere is made up of carbon gases, specifically carbon dioxide and carbon monoxide. There’s no water on carbon worlds due to the lack of oxygen, and Unicus is no exception. Why would anyone choose to live here? Mining. Worlds like Unicus are rich in important minerals. Let’s head down and check it out.”

Doog: “As I mentioned before, there’s no oxygen on carbon worlds. So, you can see that I’m wearing a respirator. There is an atmosphere though, so the temperature and atmospheric pressure are close to standard. I appear to be in the middle of some type of industrial complex. I presume it has something to do with mining. Let’s go find out.”

Doog: “Uh, hey little guy. Are you, my guide?”
Worker: “Are you crazy?! Don’t talk to me!”
Doog: “Why not? Hey! Where are you going? Whoa, no need to flip me off with all four hands. That’s a bit excessive. Alright, so much for that person being my guide.”

Naro: “What did he tell you?! Answer me, now!”
Doog: “He told me to F-off four times – simultaneously I might add.”
Naro: “Are you sure he said nothing else?”
Doog: “He asked if I’d stop talking to him, but that’s it.”
Naro: “Good. From now on, you speak to no one but me.”
Doog: “Uh…ok. Who are you?”
Naro: “I am Naro Soldato. I’m one of Unicus’ enforcers.”
Doog: “Enforcer?”
Naro: “Like, screw up, and I force a bullet through your head, enforcer.”
Doog: “I think I get the picture.”

Doog: “Whatever you’re mining here must be pretty expensive if you’re this strict.”
Naro: “This stuff here? Not really. Graphite is relatively common, even on non-carbon worlds.”
Doog: “Yeah, I guess it would be silly to shoot someone over pencils.”
Naro: “Graphite is used for much more than that. It’s used in battery production, to make lubricants, and as a component of metallurgical assembly. Advanced forms of graphite, like intercalated graphite, are used as super-conductors.”
Doog: “Oh. I guess that means it moderately valuable.”

Naro: “Graphite has some value, especially at the scales we are able to extract it. Unicus, and her sister worlds, have unimaginable quantities of the stuff.  This moon alone has a thousand mining stations. We sell almost fifty million metric tons of graphite every year.”
Doog: “That sounds like a lot. The gun is making some more sense, now.”
Naro: “Don’t be foolish. My enforcement duties have nothing to do with graphite.”
Doog: “Oh. Does it have something to do with the little, four-arms guys? Are they slaves or something?”
Naro: “The Quattuor are not slaves. They are paid fairly.”
Doog: “Do they originate from this planet?”
Naro: “Of course not. There is no life on carbon planets.”
Doog: “So, you brought them here?”
Naro: “Yes. The Quattuor are perfect for this line of work. They’re small enough to maneuver the mines, dexterous enough to handle all forms of mining tools, and extremely loyal. We have imported them to all our carbon worlds.”

Doog: “Wait, who is we?”
Naro: “The Adamas Cartel, obviously.”
Doog: “Don’t shoot me, but I’m going to need you to elaborate. I’ve never heard of this cartel.”
Naro: “You’ve never heard of Adamas Cartel? We’re you born in the outer-rim?”
Doog: “No, but I’m pretty naïve when it comes to galactic affairs.”
Naro: “The Adamas Cartel controls all the carbon worlds in the galaxy. It took several decades and lots of spilt blood, but the cartel is now one of the galaxy’s greatest industrial entities. By controlling all the carbon worlds, we’ve achieved a monopoly.”
Doog: “You have a pencil monopoly?”

Naro: “No! The Adamas Cartel has a diamond monopoly.”
Doog: “There’s diamonds on carbon worlds?”
Naro: “Of course. There are trillions of them. All this graphite and carbon gets compressed into diamonds under the surface.”
Doog: “Wow. So, the cartel purposely took control of all the carbon worlds so you’d have the galaxy’s largest supply of diamonds.”
Naro: “Correct. It wasn’t easy either – well, at first. Plenty of people had the same idea. Before the Unification War, my cartel was involved in multiple conflicts. Luckily, we won most of them. We attained a majority of the carbon worlds. After the Unification War and the rise of the LIU, our conquest changed. There was no longer physical violence, just economic violence. We used our majority to slowly take over the rest of the carbon worlds.”
Doog: “What kind of economic violence?”
Naro: “We flooded the market with diamonds and crashed their price. Our smaller competitors couldn’t keep up, and, one by one, they left the business. The more that left, the stronger our control of the market became. Eventually, we achieved a monopoly.”
Doog: “I see.”
Naro: “To reach the diamond mines, we need to descend. This shaft contains an elevator. Follow me.”

Doog: “Whoa, hey. I’m being scanned.”
Naro: “It is harmless unless you’ve brought weapons with you. It will, however, become very harmful if you try to take any diamonds out. Keep that in mind.”
Doog: “What if one gets stuck to my shoe on accident.”
Naro: “Then I shoot your foot off.”
Doog: “Yikes. I better drag my feet.”

Doog: “What am I looking at here?”
Naro: “A sifting device. Carbon regolith obtained from these depths contains diamonds. It is simply a matter of breaking away the more brittle graphite. Let’s pull out the tray.”

Naro: “Collection trays of varying sizes collect diamonds of differing sizes.”
Doog: “There’s so many…”
Naro: “It is but a fraction of a haul. We extract almost as many diamonds as we do graphite.”
Doog: “Your cartel must be filthy rich.”
Naro: “We are wealthy enough, but not near as rich as we could be.”

Doog: “What do you mean?”
Naro: “The monopoly has put us at odds with the LIU. They can’t break up our monopoly. It would tarnish their pure-capitalistic economic empire. But they can’t allow us to freely set market price either – too many other industries rely on diamonds. If we raise prices however we like, we risk destabilizing the whole galactic economy.”
Doog: “So, what did they do?”
Naro: “In exchange for keeping our pricing fair market value, the LIU has offered the cartel several perks.”
Doog: “Like what?”
Naro: “Elite citizenship for all cartel members, military protection of our worlds, and positions of power within the LIU. We may not be filthy rich, as you said, but we wield significant political power.”
Doog: “I see.”
Naro: “I enjoy many of these perks, but not all. Most of the perks are reserved for the cartel’s upper management. Speaking of which, it’s time to ascend and visit the palace.”

Doog: “I’m so nervous. What if I say something wrong and they send me to sleep with the fishes?”
Naro: “There’s no water on Unicus.”
Doog: “Oh yeah, I forgot. I guess I have that going for me. Hey, are these LIU soldiers?”
Naro: “Yes. They’re a military protection detail for the Capo.”
Doog: “The what? Capo?”
Naro: “Caporegime – the cartel leadership on Unicus.”

Naro: “Each carbon world has a caporegime assigned to them. They oversee the cartel’s operations on that planet or moon. They report to even higher members of the cartel.”
Doog: “I see.”
Naro: “This is Capo Enzo and his wife, Tarran. They are also my uncle and aunt.”
Doog: “Uh, hi there.”
Enzo: “Do you have any questions, TV reporter?”
Doog: “No, I think I have it figured out. Once you get past his gritty, enforcer persona, Naro is a real chatterbox.”
Naro: “No, I’m not! I only said what I was supposed to say, uncle!”
Enzo: “Really…”
Doog: “I didn’t mean it that way! Naro said the right amount! Don’t make us take a dirt nap – or a diamond nap for that matter!”
Enzo: “Ha, I like this guy.”
Naro: “Me, not so much.”
Enzo: “Ha. All is well, nephew. However, we are about to meet with the big boss. Perhaps you should keep your friend quiet.”
Naro: “Gladly.”

The Boss: “So many thrones, so little time. Where am I today?”
Enzo: “Unicus, my don.”
The Boss: “Unicus, Unicus. Ah, yes. Number twenty-three. Let’s see here…uh huh. Everything looks good. Production looks solid. Cashflow is within range. My cut is here. Very good, Capo Enzo.”
Enzo: “Thank you, don.”
The Boss: “That just leaves one question. Who is this human?”
Enzo: “He’s a representative of the LIU – part of an educational TV show.”
The Boss: “You allowed the LIU to film our operations?”
Enzo: “Don, I thought it might finally give us the respect we deserve.”
The Boss: “You thought? I don’t pay you to think. Enforcer, take care of the Capo after the human departs. Then call me back.”
Enzo: “Don! That’s not necessary! Nephew!”

Doog: “Well folks, I need to quickly wrap this up. I do believe there’s about to be a murder. Unicus is one of many carbon worlds controlled by the Adamas Cartel. By holding these planets, the cartel maintains a loose monopoly on several goods, chiefly diamonds. This has given the cartel significant economic and political power within the galaxy. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get out of here. See ya!”
Naro: “Get out, Doog! Now!”
Doog: “I’m going! I’m going!”
 
 
Note: The colonization of carbon worlds and the subsequent diamond harvests have altered galactic culture. Diamonds, being in such abundance, are no longer sought out for jewelry. They have been replaced with rarer jewels, like hyper-rubies. 

Doog was abandoned by the crew on a planet full of empathic mind-readers. What did they reveal about his past?

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

Oldie: “Hey! He’s back! How was your vacation, Doog?”
Doog: “Screw you guys. I can’t believe you left me on Misericors for two weeks. It’s literally the only hippie convent I’ve been to that doesn’t have drugs.”
Amaya: “It was for the best. You needed to work through some of your issues. They were affecting the rest of the crew.”
Doog: “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. It was a big waste of time, in my opinion. I’d rather have ‘worked through my issues’ by blowing last season’s salary on brothels and drugs.”
Amaya: “So, are you saying that you did work through some issues?”
Doog: “Maybe.”

Amaya: “And?”
Doog: “And what?”
Amaya: “Tell us about it!”
Mike: “Start with why you’re not wearing a shirt…”
Doog: “You guys didn’t leave me any of my wardrobe! My only shirt was a biohazard after two days!”
Amaya: “Enough about the shirt. What did you learn?”
Doog: “Well…”

Doog: “…the first couple days I just moped around in my room. I figured I wouldn’t give you guys the satisfaction of participating in therapy.

Doog: “But apparently, everyone staying at ‘Camp Heartsoul’ has to work. If you don’t work, you don’t eat…they said. When my hunger kicked in, I went out to the fields. I tried my best to look busy without actually participating, but I forgot those one alien-guys are mind-readers. That backfired.”
Amaya: “Keep going.”
Doog: “It was then that I realized that I could get out of work if I agreed to meet with the mind-reader guys. Therapy supersedes work. People going through therapy still get to eat.”
Amaya: “You only participated in therapy because you were lazy?”
Doog: “Well, yeah. Duh.”

Doog: “That mind-reader Graal came to my room…”

Doog: “…and did that head-touch-thingy. He helped me see my past.”

Amaya: “What did you see first?”
Doog: “Some of my earliest memories. Stuff I didn’t even remember.”

Doog: “My first memories are of my parents. Actually, of my parents fighting. I couldn’t see my dad’s face in any of the memories. I’m not sure if it’s because I never saw him or because he was always glued to the TV. Graal seems to think that I chose a career in TV because that was the only way I could get my dad to look at me.”
Amaya: “Aw.”
Doog: “But that’s not true.”
Amaya: “Are you sure?”
Doog: “I’m sure.”

Doog: “I'm sure because my dad left a few months after I was born. I haven’t seen or heard from him since.”
Mike: “So, your problems are all related to daddy issues?”
Doog: “No! Shut it, Mike! You didn’t have a dad either.”
Mike: “I…uh…maybe I need therapy too.”
Doog: “Probably. Anyway, none of my issues seem to stem from my dad. He was never anything to me. I never knew him. All he ever gave me was my last name.”

Doog: “After my dad left, my mom and I went to stay with my grandma. She was happy to take us in.”

Doog: “Obviously, none of my problems are related to my grandma. If anyone says otherwise, I’ll punch their lights out.”
Mike: “We all love your grandma, Doog.”
Oldie: “She makes the best pony soup in the galaxy!”

Amaya: “Ok. What about your adolescent years?”
Doog: “There’s nothing too emotionally damaging for most of it.”

Doog: “I did normal kid stuff. I went to school.”

Doog: “I met my best friend, Mike.”

​Doog: “I went to jail.”

Amaya: “Whoa, whoa. Going to jail is NOT normal kid stuff.”
Doog: “It was pretty normal for Mike and I. Cunabula was a factory world. Our parents and grandparents had to work. It was just us a lot of the time.”
Mike: “We caused a lot of chaos.”
Amaya: “Being in jail at that early age could account for a lot of your problems.”
Doog: “Nah, it was a kid jail, not a drop-your-soap-and-get-raped-jail.”
Amaya: “Still.”
Mike: “Kid jail on Cunabula was sort of like a daycare.”
Doog: “The fines our parents paid to get us out were cheaper than a babysitter.”

Doog: “Right before my teenage years, I got some bad news. My mom was promoted.”
Amaya: “Wait, that’s good news, though.”
Doog: “In some respects, yes. But it meant she had to move off-world.”
Amaya: “Oh. So, you had to leave Cunabula, your grandma, and Mike?”
Doog: “No. She wanted me to stay on Cunabula with my grandma. She didn’t want to me to leave my school and my friends. She also said that wherever she was going was no place for a child.”
Amaya: “You don’t know where she went?”
Doog: “No.”

Amaya: “Sorry. I bet you didn’t take that well, especially since your dad had already left you.”
Doog: “At first, I blamed myself. I figured all the trouble Mike and I had gotten into had forced her to leave. That wasn’t true, of course.”

Doog: “After she left, I might have acted out a bit more as a ploy to get her to come back.”
Mike: “He did some tours in big-boy jail after that. I did NOT participate in that chaos.”
Doog: “Yeah, thanks bud. You abandoned me just like everyone else.”

Mike: “That’s not fair. This is the LIU. There are very few people in this galaxy that would go to jail for their own mothers, let alone their teenage best friend.”
Amaya: “Quit being insensitive Mike! Can’t you see what’s happening here. Doog has been feeling abandoned all his life. His dad left. His mom left. You left him. He’s now projecting his abandonment issues onto his current life. That’s why he always leaves the crew. That’s why he prefers prostitutes and brothels over real connections! He wants to abandon others before he gets abandoned! It’s so clear now!”
Doog: “Yeah! I’m damaged!”
Mike: “That’s some BS. Your mom didn’t even abandon you. Tell her about your microphone.”
Amaya: “The microphone?”
Doog: “Uh…”

Doog: “One time when I got back from a month stay in jail, I had a present waiting for me. It was from my mom.”

Doog: “She bought me this microphone.”
Amaya: “The one you never put down?”
Doog: “Yes. She also paid for my first few years of media university. Even though I eventually dropped out, the contacts I made led to this job. She’s the reason I’m here.”
Amaya: “So, she didn’t really abandon you.”

Doog: “Not really, I guess, but I haven’t seen or heard from her in a decade or so.”
Amaya: “Now that we know what happened, we can try to help. Maybe we can find your mom or something.”
Doog: “Now?”
Amaya: “Well, not right this minute. We still have to shoot episodes, but we’ll work on it.  In the meantime, just remember, we won’t abandon you.”
Doog: “Ok.”
Oldie: “In fact, I think we’re contractually obligated to not abandon you.”
Doog: “Gee, thanks, Nards.”
Oldie: “No problem.”

Note: Miseri telepathic empaths are known to be able to pull memories from individuals that they can't even recall themselves, like early-developmental memories.

Doog: “Welcome to the season finale of Season 13 of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the tropical world of Misericors. Misericors is an agricultural world, specializing in fruit production. I guess Amaya chose this planet so we could grab some foods rich in vitamin C – we don’t want Oldie to get scurvy again. I’m glad she chose this route; I was worried she was going to send me to some hellhole after I made her mad on Nusquam.”

Doog: “Agricultural operations on Misericors are based out of this small landing-platform in the middle of the ocean. None of the actual farming takes place out here. It’s just a centralized location. Produce from several nearby islands come here to be shipped out to the rest of the galaxy. This station is manned, so let’s head inside and meet our guide.”

Notch: “Take a seat. The shipping platform is closed until after the game.”
Doog: “I don’t see any seats.”
Notch: “Then stand.”
Doog: “Uh, sure. What are we watching? Is that Ringball?”
Notch: “Yes.”
Doog: “Who’s playing?”
Notch: “Arsine and Diborane.”
Doog: “Cool. Cool. That’s the Devils and the Slugs, right.”
Notch: “Yes.”
Doog: “Oh, nice. I saw them play in person once.”
Notch: “Good for you.”
Doog: “What’s the score? Can we maybe share that seat? Mind if I grab some snacks for the game?”
Notch: “Are you going to talk the whole game?!”
Doog: “Probably.”

Notch: “TV, pause. I guess I’m not watching today’s game live. What do you want?”
Doog: “I’m Doog. I’m a reporter for a show…”
Notch: “You’re the guy that needs a ride.”
Doog: “Well, it’s more than that, you have to…”
Notch: “And you came at 10am on Ringball day.”
Doog: “Sorry. All the days are practically the same for me. “
Notch: “Lucky you. Let’s go.”

Notch: “I didn’t know I was hired to be a taxi driver, but here we are.”
Doog: “Like I was saying – it’s more than a ride. You’re supposed to tell me stuff too.”
Notch: “Like what?”
Doog: “Let’s start with your name.”
Notch: “Everyone here calls me Notch.”
Doog: “That’s an interesting name.”
Notch: “Not really. The locals started calling me it when I wouldn’t participate in their nonsense. I was too ‘business oriented’. I just wanted to get in, pick up their goods, and get out. They said all I was worried about is another notch in my belt.”
Doog: “Some people call me Notch too. They say all I’m worried about is another notch in my bedpost.”
Notch: “No they don’t. Now, get on the ship. You can call me business oriented if you want, but the truth is, I just want you out of my hair as soon as possible…”

Doog: “By your comments earlier, I’m guessing you don’t transport people often.”
Notch: “Never. This is a first.”
Doog: “So, what do you usually transport?”
Notch: “Fruit. I visit each island once a week. I grab their produce and transport it back to the platform. Once I’ve gathered enough, I call in a ship to export the produce out.”
Doog: “That doesn’t seem too efficient. Wouldn’t be easier to transport goods directly from the farms?”
Notch: “No one wants to deal with the locals.”

Doog: “Are the locals that bad? You said earlier that you didn’t want to deal with their nonsense.”
Notch: “It’s complicated. The natives are alright, I guess. But the natives attracted a bunch of free-spirited, hipster morons. They live here with the natives now. It’s them that no one wants to be around.”
Doog: “Some Hippie-types can be unbearable for sure, but are they really bad enough to alter farming operations.”
Notch: “You’ll see soon enough. We’re almost to Port Heartsoul on Cor Island.”
Doog: “Port Heartsoul? They really named it that? Yikes. Maybe we should turn around.”
Notch: “Too late.”

Doog: “Their waves are creepy. Turn around!”
Notch: “Not a chance. You wasted enough of my time today.”
Doog: “They’re too happy. No one in this galaxy is happy! Turn around!”
Notch: “Not happening.”

Ember: “Doog! We’ve been expecting you!”
Kiefer: “Welcome, buddy!”
Doog: “What are you waiting for Notch? Get out here and guide me – preferably somewhere away from the happy-people.”
Ember: “Old grumpy Notch isn’t your guide, Doog. We are.”
Kiefer: “Yep, bud. I’m Kiefer. This wonderful lady is Ember Ash Sage.”
Doog: “Notch! I know you can hear me! Help!!”

Ember: “Hehe. We’ll be all the help you’ll need on this journey. Let us be your guides.”
Kiefer: “Physically and spiritually.”
Doog: “Alright. I can do this. It’s just for a few minutes”
Ember: “You can do it!”
Kiefer: “You can do anything, buddy!”
Doog: “Must suppress vomit…ok. What can you tell me about this place?”
Ember: “This is Camp Heartsoul, a spiritual retreat for people like us.”
Doog: “People like what?”
Kiefer: “People in touch with their emotions.”

Kiefer: “We came here because of these guys, the Miseri.”
Ember: “The Miseri are wonderful beings.”
Kiefer: “They are empathetic telepaths. They can feel your pain, your hatred, and your fears.”
Ember: “They can share these feelings with you, and help you work through any issues.”
Kiefer: “With their help, you can achieve true happiness.”
Doog: “You guys came to Misericors to be with these empaths?”
Kiefer: “Yes.”
Doog: “And, you just hang out with them all day?”

Ember: “We don’t just hangout. We have fully integrated into their society. We live with the Miseri.”
Kiefer: “We also work with the Miseri.”
Doog: “You guys help harvest fruit?”
Ember: “Yes. Our combined labor makes the task easier and faster. The LIU stays happy, and the Miseri have more free time.”
Kiefer: “More time to help us.”
Ember: “Enough time to maybe help you.”
Doog: “No thanks. I’m good.”

Ember: “Don’t be afraid, Doog. The Miseri are gentle beings.”
Doog: “They are unusual, that’s for sure. They’re not a Progenitor race, are they?”
Graal: “We are not.”
Doog: “Oh, you speak basic.”
Graal: “I do, friend. Let me help you. I feel your pain.”
Doog: “That’s not necessary. I’m fine being how I am.”
Ember: “Amaya said he would be resistant.”
Doog: “Wait! Amaya sent me here on purpose?”
Kiefer: “You need help, buddy. She’s just trying to help.”
Doog: “I AM being punished! I should have known!”

Graal: “Working through your issues is not a punishment. It is a gift. Let me touch you.”
Doog: “No, I’m good. Hey! Stop!”

Doog: “No! Mom! Don’t go! I’ll be better!”
Gma: “It will be ok, Terrance. She’ll be back soon.”

Doog: “Get off me! I don’t want you in there!”
Graal: “I just want to help.”

Ember: “Doog! Come back, Doog!”
Kiefer: “It’s always hard at the beginning. You have to work through the pain.”
Doog: “I don’t have any pain! Notch! Where are you?! Where did you go?!”

Kiefer: “He’s gone, Doog. He won’t be back for a few weeks.”
Doog: “A few weeks!”
Ember: “Amaya thought it would be wise to spend your time between seasons working on yourself.”
Doog: “They’re leaving me here between seasons?! What about my time off?!”
Graal: “I sense your fear. Just relax. We won’t push too hard. We’ll start off slow.”
Doog: “I can’t believe they did this to me!”

Ember: “Doog! What are you doing?”
Doog: “I’m swimming back to the platform! I will not be denied…my…huff…my time…off…”
Graal: “I think he’s drowning.”
Ember: “He only swam a few meters.”
Kiefer: “I’ve got you, buddy! Take the preserver!”

​Doog: “Huff…there’s…there’s no escape. Is there?”
Ember: “No, Doog. The platform is miles away. There aren’t any ships that fly here directly.”
Kiefer: “Like it or not, you’re our guest for the next two weeks. You don’t have to work on yourself, but there’s not much else to do.”
Graal: “You know what you really can’t escape? Your past. Let me help you.”
Doog: “Well folks, I’m stuck on Misericors. I don’t know what to say. This is going to be the worst.”
 
Note:

Oldie: “Oh man, he’s going to be so mad.”
Amaya: “Don’t be concerned about Doog. Worry about yourself. Eat the fruit.”
Oldie: “I am. I am. This is like my third piece today.”
Amaya: “Better make it five.”
Mike: “Are we really leaving him there for two weeks?”
Amaya: “Doog needs this. His reckless behavior has cost us too many times. Maybe they can get to the root of his problems. Worst case scenario, we pick up the same old Doog in two weeks, but, this way, we know he isn’t getting into trouble in between seasons.”
Oldie: “Didn’t Mike screw up Also? Maybe he should be there too?”
Mike: “Shut it, Oldie!”
Amaya: “Mike is a follower. We fix Mike by fixing Doog.”
Mike: “I’m not a follower!”
Amaya: “We can take you back there, if you want, or you can come with us to Bulla Bulla. You decide.”
Mike: “I…uh…will go with you guys.”

Doog: “I don’t see what the big deal is. He’s at least ninety years old. Of course, he’s bedridden.”
Oldie: “I’m only in my sixties!”
Doog: “Pfft. In what star system?”
Amaya: “This isn’t a joke, Doog! Oldie has been sick for over a week. Something is wrong.”
Doog: “He’s weak and tired. I don’t think that is unusual for someone his age. That’s all I’m saying.”
Amaya: “It’s more than that. He’s also bleeding from his mouth.”
Doog: “Maybe his dentures are too tight?”
Oldie: “I don’t wear dentures!”
Mike: “I brought Oldie some pony soup in a cup. This always makes him feel better.”
Oldie: “I don’t think I can keep anything down.”
Doog: “Oldie is turning down pony soup? Maybe something really is wrong.”

Amaya: “Seitse, have you had any luck?”
Seitse: “We’re essentially in the middle of nowhere. There’s not a lot of options. If we want to find a legit medical facility, we need to head back towards the Mid-Rim. We’re at least two days out.”
Amaya: “That’s too long. What about a not so legit medical facility?”
Seitse: “There’s a ‘class E’ facility a few hours away. It’s based out of an asteroid called Nusquam.”
Amaya: “Class E isn’t that bad. That’s a basic emergency hospital.”
Seitse: “The hospital is fine, but this Nusquam-place isn’t. It has several warnings associated with it.”
Amaya: “Like what?”
Seitse: “Commerce crime, commercial theft, racketeering, and hijacking.”
Doog: “I’m no expert, but that sounds like a fancy way of saying that there are pirates nearby.”
Seitse: “That’s the vibe that I’m getting.”
Amaya: “We don’t have a choice. Oldie needs help now. Besides, we’re not a commercial vessel with cargo. We’ll be fine. Plot the course.”
Seitse: “You’re the boss.”

Doog: “Well folks, we’re headed to a trading-station on the asteroid, Nusquam. Nusquam is located in a sparse, isolated region of the Outer-Rim. I guess this makes it a good target for pirates. Lucky us. I hope saving Oldie is worth risking all of our lives – I mean, he’s lived longer than all of us combined.”
Oldie: “I’m not that old! Cough! Cough!”
Amaya: “Stop agitating Oldie, Doog!”

Doog: “To be honest, I thought it would be worse. This looks like a standard space-station. There’s not a pirate in sight.”
Mike: “The station is probably safe. It’s the pirates flying around the outside that are the threat. I think we’re good now that we’re inside.”
Amaya: “We’re still not taking any chances. We splitting into two even groups. Cam, Timbo, and I will take Oldie. The rest of you need to stay with the ship. Park the Magellan somewhere well lit. Don’t let anyone inside. Report any suspicious activity nearby.”
Doog: “Yeah, yeah. We’ll go into full Karen-mode. We’ll report everyone.”
Amaya: “Good. Stay safe. We’ll be back soon.”

Doog: “Now that Chief Worrywart is gone, what are we really going to do?”
Seitse: “We’re really going to get on the ship and follow Amaya’s instructions. Come on.”
Doog: “Speak for yourself. We spend ninety percent of the year crammed in that ship. This is valuable Magellan-free time.”
Seitse: “I’m not the boss, and, even if I was, you’d probably still disobey me. I’m not going to waste my time trying to convince you. Come on, Mike, let’s get back in the ship.”
Mike: “Uh…Doog does have a point.”
Seitse: “Really? You too, Mike?”
Mike: “I just need to stretch my legs for a bit.”
Doog: “If it makes you feel any better, we don’t have any credits. I don’t think we can get into too much trouble.”
Mike: “And, no one will want to rob us.”
Seitse: “Whatever. I’ll text you where we park. If you’re smart, you’ll be back there before Amaya returns. If she finds out you defied her orders again, you won’t have to worry about the space pirates murdering you.”

Mike: “Seriously, though, what are we going to do? We really don’t have any credits.”
Doog: “I might have lied about that.”
Mike: “What! How do you have credits and I don’t?”
Doog: “Remember when you and Amaya sent me to that cannibal-planet?”
Mike: “Yeah…”
Doog: “Amaya gave me a bonus because I almost died.”
Mike: “Hey! That was my idea to send you there! I should get part of that!”
Doog: “You almost got me killed! Why do you deserve part of the bonus?!”
Mike: “Because, if I didn’t send you there, you wouldn’t have almost died, and therefore wouldn’t have gotten a bonus.”
Doog: “You have a point, but I’m splitting it 80/20. I’m the one that almost died after all.”
Mike: “That’s fair, I guess.”

Mike: “What are we going to do with the credits? Food sounds good.”
Doog: “What do we always do with our credits?”
Mike: “Lose them in some ridiculous manner before we get to spend them on stuff we actually want?”
Doog: “Uh, well yeah. Let me rephrase. What do we always try to spend our extra credits on?”
Mike: “Brothels?”
Doog: “Yes, sir.”

​Mike: “Is my twenty percent cut of the bonus going to be enough for a brothel?”
Doog: “I’m not going to lie. You’ll probably have to slum it. I’m guessing you’re going to have to go non-human.”
Mike: “Uh…”
Doog: “Look, there’s some Hobots over here. They’re probably cheap.”
Mike: “Er, I might shop around a bit. These mechanical prostitutes always give me chafing.”
Doog: “Too much info, buddy. But, you’re right. I’m sure we can find something else. If this place is really associated with pirates, then there’s bound to be some pirate wenches around here.”
 
Meanwhile: 

Cam: “Hang in there, buddy. You’re safe now.”
Amaya: “Doctor, did you find anything?”
Doctor: “This is not something I’m familiar with. I’ll need some time to run some tests.”
Amaya: “Whatever it takes.”

Mike: “We’ve almost circled the whole station. I smell the food again.”
Doog: “You can’t tell me that this place doesn’t have a legitimate brothel. It’s so remote that it’s practically a necessity out here.”
Mike: “We can go back to the Hobots.”
Doog: “Pass. If I wanted to indulge in mechanical stimulation, I wouldn’t have left the Magellan. We have a perfectly good condenser in the laundry room.”
Mike: “Eww, what have you been doing with the condenser?”
Doog: “Nothing yet, but I’d pick that over those Hobots. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
Mike: “That has literally never crossed my mind, you weirdo.”

Doog: “We’ve been sticking to the main path. Maybe we need to detour down one of these alleys.”
Mike: “I thought we were looking for a brothel, not a way to get murdered.”
Doog: “Don’t be a baby. There’s not been a single sign of danger on this station. The computer warnings are way off.”
Mike: “I think I might go back to the ship. With my limited credits, I can’t afford a prostitute that is worth dying over.”
Doog: “Fine, I’ll split it 70/30.”
Mike: “50/50.”
Doog: “60/40, and that’s my final offer.”
Mike: “Fine. At least it will be worth it now if we get murdered.”

Doog: “Alright, this looks promising.”
Mike: “It’s a dead end.”
Doog: “Yeah, but look at the sign.”
Mike: “I can’t read Presciant.”
Doog: “Not the written stuff. The ‘Soap and Suds’ sign. Cleans it all – that is definitely an innuendo, and the girl is winking at us.”
Mike: “I don’t know. It could just be a weird laundromat sign. Travelers in this remote part of the galaxy might need an actual laundromat.”
Doog: “You’re so wrong. Watch this.”
Mike: “They have guns, Doog. You better be right.”
Doog: “I think that cements that I’m right. Why would a laundromat have armed security?”

Security #1: “Stand still for a scan.”
Doog: “Will do.”
Security #1: “Subjects not listed in law enforcement database. Initiate final test.”
Security #2: “Are you law enforcement officers?”
Doog: “No.”
Mike: “Nope.”
Security #2: “Statements register as truthful.”
Security #1: “You may enter. Lex Indutiae is in effect.”
Doog: “Yeah. Sure. Thanks.”
 
​
Meanwhile: 

Doctor: “I’ve treated hundreds of gunshot wounds and thousands of stabbings, but this is a first. It’s sort of ironic given our location.”
Amaya: “What’s wrong with him, doctor?”
Doctor: “It appears that Mr. Douglas has a severe vitamin C deficiency. It’s sometimes referred to as scurvy.”
Amaya: “Scurvy?”
Doctor: “Yes. It means that Mr. Douglas has not consumed any vitamin C in several weeks.”
Amaya: “When they said that all he eats is pony soup…I thought they were exaggerating…”

Doog: “Hopefully, all that scrutiny means that we’re in the right place.”
Mike: “If brothels are legal in most of the LIU, why are they so worried about the police?”
Doog: “I don’t know. Maybe the escorts are all former criminals.”
Mike: “Maybe, but I don’t see many women here.”
Doog: “You’re right. There is an unusual number of people wearing skull and crossbones on their hats too.”
Mike: “I don’t think we found the brothels. I think we found the pirates. They’re on this station after all.”

--Gun Click--
Jolly: “Arr, tis me lucky day. My ol’ friend Doog has come to me doorstep.”
Doog: “Jolly…Doom. Is…is…that you?”
Jolly: “That be Capt’n Jolly Doom to you, scallywag.”
Doog: “I thought we settled our debt on Consumerist Eve a few years back. Why do you have a gun to my head?”
Jolly: “Settled? More like postponed, if me memory serves me right.”
Doog: “Can we, like maybe, postpone it again for a few years?”
Jolly: “Haha, you wish, landlubber. No one steals from Jolly Doom.”
Doog: “Did we really steal from you? You hijacked us and took our fuel cells. We just took some of your money so we could replace them. I think we’re even.”
Jolly: “Arr! No one takes me booty for any reason!”
Doog: “Uh, yeah. No need to get mad. You’re totally right. We screwed up. Just don’t kill us.”

Jolly: “Kill ye? I think not. At least, not here. The Nusquam shadow-port operates under the law of truces. Lex Indutiae is in effect.”
Doog: “So, we’re free to go?”
Jolly: “Sure. You two are free to leave the safety of the port anytime. I’d be glad if ye did. Outside of the port, no laws can save ye.”
Doog: “I guess this ‘shadow-port’ is my new home then. Since I’m living here forever now, can you tell me what exactly is a ‘shadow-port’?”

Jolly: “Arr, it is what it says it is. A shadow-port is a hidden place of trade for people like me. The LIU has little presence here. Us pirates can be pirates while safe from the authority of the LIU.”

Jolly: “It’s a safe place to fence our loot. A place for me crew to part-out hijacked vessels and equipment.”

Jolly: “It be a place for us capt’ns to congregate – share information, barter territories, and exchange crew.”

Jolly: “It also be a place to play our favorite game, Space Dominoes.”
 

Meanwhile:

Amaya: “The good news, Oldie will be fine. He just had scurvy. It’s easily treatable. The bad news, there are pirates on Nusquam. The doctor said there’s dozens of pirate crews here. Are you guys alright?”
Seitse: “Hugo and I are fine. No one has approached the ship.”
Amaya: “What about Mike and Doog?”
Seitse: “They wouldn’t get on the ship. We left them. They’re on the station somewhere.”
Amaya: “What!”
Seitse: “Sorry, they wouldn’t listen. I sort of hoped they’d be back by now, but I haven’t heard anything from them for an hour.”
Amaya: “Prep the ship to leave. I’ll walk Cam, Timbo, and Oldie back to the ship, but then I’m going to find Doog.”
Seitse: “Don’t go alone if there are pirates here!”
Amaya: “I’ll be fine. Is the Hover Cam broadcasting?”
Seitse: “Yes.”
Amaya: “Send me the coordinates.”

Oldie: “I feel better already. I could use a big tub of pony soup to celebrate.”
Amaya: “No! You’re eating nothing but fruits and vegetables for the next month!”
Oldie: “Yikes, ok. What got into you?”
Amaya: “Doog has disobeyed me for the last time. Once again, he’s endangered the crew with his idiocy. Once we get back to the ship, I’m going to find him!”

Doog: “Whoa, whoa! Why are you pushing us out here?!”
Jolly: “The law of truces doesn’t apply in the maintenance tunnels.”
Doog: “Sure it does! We’re still in the shadow-port, right?”
Jolly: “If you wenches have an accident in the tunnels, me thinks that no law will be broken. Now walk the plank.”

Doog: “Alright! Alright! What do you want?!”
Jolly: “I want me booty back. All of it…plus interest.”
Doog: “Ok, ok. We can’t pay you back if you push us into the fan. Give us a chance.”
Jolly: “I’m listening.”
Mike: “Give him the bonus money!”
Doog: “Sure, but I don’t think ten credits is going to even us out.”
Mike: “Ten credits! That’s all you had?!”
Doog: “Well, yeah.”
Mike: “What kind of brothel were we looking for! You were only going to give me two credits!”
Doog: “Let’s not fight amongst ourselves!”
Jolly: “Arr, ten credits won’t do.”
Doog: “We have a ship. A newer one. It’s even better than the one you originally raided. We can give you the ship.”
Jolly: “You have peaked me interests. You can live for now. Bring me to your ship.”

Mike: “What’s the plan?”
Doog: “What do you mean? The plan is to give Jolly Doom whatever he wants. I wasn’t lying, he can take the Magellan.”
Mike: “What about our crewmates?”
Doog: “They can live with us on Nusquam forever. I’m sure we can survive here with our combined skills.”

Amaya: “You half-brained idiots! I’ve been looking for you!”
Doog: “Uh, Amaya. This isn’t the time. Let me introduce you to…”
Amaya: “Let ME introduce you to my left fist, and then my right! I’m so mad I can’t see straight! Oldie was so sick! We needed to work together to help one of our own! And you two idiots couldn’t even behave for one hour! You have no compassion, no sense of teamwork, no self-control! You will pay for this!”

Jolly: “Arr, you be a fiery one, but I’m afraid you all will be paying for this. Jolly Doom always gets his…”
Amaya: “Get your what! You think you can steal from me! I’m Amaya Moneta. I’m an elite citizen!”
Jolly: “Your titles mean nothing to…”
Amaya: “Really! I activated my distress chip! The LIU will be swarming this place in no time!”
Jolly: “I’m not scared of the LIU!”
Amaya: “Really? Then why hide in a ‘shadow-port?”
Jolly: “I…uh…”
Amaya: “As dumb as these two idiots are, they at least brought the Hover Cam! They’ve been recording everything you’ve said and done. The LIU will see it! That’s the end of Nusquam’s days as a pirate sanctuary. This place will be locked down so hard!”
Jolly: “We don’t have to…”
Amaya: “And what will your fellow pirates do? They’ll all know that you brought the LIU here.”
Jolly: “I didn’t bring…”
Amaya: “Then shut your pirate mouth and get out of here! Now!”
Jolly: “You live yet again, Doog. But this is not an excuse for your debt. Just another postponement. I will have me revenge.”

Doog: “Whoa. That was awesome. You punked out Jolly Doom, one of the galaxy’s most notorious pirates. I think I might be turned on.”
Amaya: “You’re about to be turned off – as, like, rendered unconscious. I want to hit you SO hard! I’m not even mad at those dumb pirates! I’m mad at you two halfwits! You turned your back on Oldie and the rest of your crew! This won’t go unpunished! Get back to the ship, NOW!”
Doog: “Alright, alright.”

Doog: “Well folks, that was a mess. Nusquam turned out to be a pirate sanctuary. It looks like crews of space pirates meet here to trade, plot, and plunder. I’m not sure Nusquam will continue in this role after Amaya’s tirade. Was she bluffing or did she really get the LIU involved? Who knows? I’m not going to ask her – she seems a bit upset at the moment. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to find a hiding space on the Magellan. I don’t want to cross paths with Amaya for a least a week. Oh well, see ya!”
 
​
Note: There are a dozen or so ‘shadow-ports’ in the galaxy’s Outer Rim. These secret ports serve the galactic underground, like the Slavers’ Guild, spice traders, pirates, and the bankers of Tri-Loans. The LIU aggressively searches for these ports, but they are rarely discovered. Nusquam was once one of these ports, but it has since been raided by LIU forces.

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re checking out the circumbinary planet, Dualis. Dualis orbits two stars, Iphis and Ianthe. Depending on its location within this orbit, Dualis experiences different seasons. When Iphis is the dominate – or closer – star, Dualis experiences mild weather, but when Ianthe is the dominate star, Dualis experiences much harsher weather and more intense UV radiation. I’m told these varying solar seasons impact life on Dualis, including the sentient race that has emerged here. The only way to find out, for sure, is to land our ship and check it out. Let’s go.”

​Doog: “Alright folks, I’ve been dropped off on a small landing platform on Dualis’ surface. I can see both of Dualis’ stars in the sky, but Iphis is clearly closer. That’s good for us. We’re here during Dualis’ mild season. Other than that, there’s not much else to talk about. There’s no major structures or signs of advanced life.”

Doog: “There IS this creepy impaled robot-thing. What are you supposed to be? Some type of mechanical scarecrow?”

DAK: “Introduction: I am DAK, a Diction Assistance Kiosk.”
Doog: “Holy Emperor! You’re alive. You scared the crap out of me you stupid robot! What were you doing up there?”
DAK: “Statement: I was utilizing conduction charging while in standby mode. Note: This is standard procedure while offline.”
Doog: “Yeah, ok. I guess. Just, give a guy a little warning next time. Geesh.”
DAK: “Request saved: I will transmit your reprogramming request when I return to standby mode.”

DAK: “Analysis: You are a human male with video and audio recording equipment. Conclusion: You are Terrance McDoogal. Secondary Appellation: Doog.”
Doog: “Uh, if you’re asking my name…then, yes, I am Doog.”
DAK: “Identity Confirmed. Inquiry: Are you ready to commence planetary tour?”
Doog: “Yeah, definitely. If you could point me to my guide, that’d be great. Then you can go back to hanging out on that pole.”
DAK: “Refutation: I am your guide.”
Doog: “Oh no, I’m not touring this planet with a metal scarecrow that talks funny.”
DAK: “Inquiry: Do you speak Dualigent, the natives’ language?”
Doog: “No.”
DAK: “Statement: I am the only entity on this planet that is capable of communicating with you. Conclusion: I am the only suitable guide on Dualis.”
Doog: “Sigh. I guess I have no choice.”

Doog: “So, there’s no other sentients here, other than the natives? No humans? Or Tressans? Or anything?”
DAK: “Affirmative Reply: Correct.”
Doog: “What about you. Why are you here?”
DAK: “Recapitulation: I am DAK, a Diction Assistance Kiosk.”
Doog: “Yeah, you already said that. Do you have a limited number of phrases or something?”
DAK: “Clarification: My purpose is defined in my name. I am here to assist with dictation.”
Doog: “I’m still not sure I get it.”
DAK: “Simplification: I am a translation tool. Note: I can speak Basic and Dualigent.”
Doog: “Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”
DAK: “Request saved: I will transmit your reprogramming request when I return to standby mode.”

DAK: “Inquiry: Do you wish to learn about Dualis’ vegetation?”
Doog: “Uh, sure. Why not?”
DAK: “Statement: Dualis’ vegetation consists of one organism. Appellation: The organism is called Shros. Factual Declaration: Shros is a non-vascular, flowerless Bryophyte containing simple cellular leaves and tall reproductive stalks called sporophytes.”
Doog: “Do that simplify thing again because I have no idea what you’re saying.”
DAK: “Simplification: Shros is a moss.”
Doog: “That’s better. So, there’s only moss on Dualis?”
DAK: “Affirmative Reply: Yes.”
Doog: “Why is that?”

DAK: “Theorization: More advanced plants cannot survive the Ianthe season.”
Doog: “That’s right. I forgot about the whole two stars and different sun seasons.”
DAK: “Statement: Increases in ultraviolet radiation during the Ianthe season actually kills off large portions of the Shros population. Approximately seventy percent of the Shros undergoes cellular sterilization. Simplification: Shros is harmed by UV radiation.”
Doog: “Yeah, no need to simplify that one. I know what sterilization means – not that I’ve had that problem or anything – plenty of alleged kids here – everything works. While we’re on this subject, though, am I safe here? Will this UV harm me?”
DAK: “Reassurance: Ianthe season is twenty weeks away. Your minimal exposure will not result in any harm.”
Doog: “Phew. Good.”

DAK: “Announcement: We have arrived in a settlement. Statement: Dualis’ sentient race lives in previously identified settlement. Appellation: The native race is known as the Dualog.”
Doog: “They look…primitive.”
DAK: “Statement: The Dualog do not purposely manufacture any advanced metals or materials. Observation: The Dualog utilize stone tools and stone buildings. Summation: The Dualog are a stone-age civilization. Assertion: The Dualog are primitive compared to galactic standard.”
Doog: “That’s a long way to say that you agree.”
DAK: “Request saved: I will transmit your reprogramming request when I return…”
Doog: “Don’t waste your time.”

Doog: “So, you can speak their language?”
DAK: “Affirmative Reply: Yes.”
Doog: “If the LIU programmed you to speak with the locals, then they must be good for something, right?”
DAK: “Declaration: The LIU trades with the locals. Statement: I am a tool for facilitating trade.”
Doog: “Do the locals get anything? Why do they live so primitively if they’re trading with the LIU?”
DAK: “Evasion: I am not permitted to discuss trade arrangements.”
Doog: “You know, it’s not really dodging my question if you identify it as an evasion while you speak.”
DAK: “Request saved: I will transmit your reprogramming request…”
Doog: “Again, that’s not necessary.”

Doog: “What does the LIU get from these guys? Moss?”
DAK: “Refutation: No. Statement: Shros is used as both a foodstuff and building material. Summation: Neither are of interest to the LIU.”
Doog: “This moss is both breakfast and a rooftile, and the LIU wants nothing to do with it?”
DAK: “Explanation: Shros is an inefficient building material. Acknowledgment: Shros does block UV radiation. Counter: Shros is not water resistant. Counter: Shros is inefficient thermo-insulator. Summation: While Shros is useful to the natives, it is not comparable to more advanced building material utilized by the LIU.”

Doog: “What about its use as a food?”
DAK: “Vociferate: Shros is inefficient nutrient source as compared to cheaper, more-easily collected alternatives. Note: Shros not identified as tasty.”
Doog: “Fair enough.”
DAK: “Statement: The Dualog show early signs of civilization advancement. Explanation: The Dualog have begun to farm Shros. Note: Sharpened stone tools are used to cut and relocate Shros.”
Doog: “That’s good for the Dualog, but I’m still trying to figure out why you’re here.”
DAK: “Process: Computing. Recapitulation: I am DAK, a Diction Assistance Kiosk.”
Doog: “I know. I know. You’re a translation tool. But, why did the LIU send a translation tool to Dualis? What’s useful to the LIU on Dualis?”

DAK: “Comparison: Like the Shros, the Dualog are subject to the planet’s solar seasons. Statement: The Dualog have developed many strategies to combat UV radiation. List: The Dualog possess skin hoods to protect their brain and eyes from UV exposure. List: The Dualog have thick, reflective skin. List: The Dualog utilize simple tools to build stone homes that are UV resistant. List: The Dualog undergo a two-stage life cycle – nymph and adult.”
Doog: “Huh? What was that last one?”
DAK: “Statement: The Dualog youth are born in underground chambers where they are protected from UV radiation. Note: In this youthful nymph stage, the Dualog are mostly aquatic. Analysis: The nymphs undergo metamorphosis inside cocoons to become adults. Note: Only adults live on the surface.”
Doog: “Are you saying there are Dualog babies down there? Can we see them?”
DAK: “Affirmative Reply: Yes. Warning: Entering the cavern from this height will be deadly. Exclamation: The cavern is thirty meters deep. Request: Follow me to alternative entrance.”
Doog: “Ok.”

DAK: “Assertion: Dualog nymphs are present in this pool.”
Doog: “Yeah, I see them. They are sort of creepy. They don’t look much like the adults.”
DAK: “Concurrence: Nymphs and adults are not similar.”

DAK: “Assessment: Dualog nymphs are unable to care for themselves. Note: Pools do not contain many useful nutrients. Conclusion: Dualog adults care for nymphs by dropping Shros into the pools.”

DAK: “Factual declaration: Pools do contain numerous minerals. Statement: Dualog nymphs collect previously mentioned minerals. Result: Nymphs are able to construct hardened metallic cocoons that are highly resistant to UV radiation.”
Doog: “The babies make metal cocoons? Wow.”
DAK: “Statement: The organometallic cocoons contain beneficial materials. Notation: Cocoons are useful to the LIU.”
Doog: “The LIU comes here for the cocoons? What are they made of?”
DAK: “Tergiversate: We can witness a birth. Follow me.”

Doog: “Oh, that is gross. The smell, the mucus, the slime – it all reminds me of my ex-girlfriend.”
DAK: “Error: Unknown statement.”
Doog: “Simplification – my ex is really gross.”
DAK: “Neutral reply: Ok.”
Doog: “I want to press you more on the make-up of these cocoons, but I also want to get away from this wriggling, putrid afterbirth.”
DAK: “Conclusion: Let’s leave the nymph caverns.”

DAK: “Statement: In addition to my translation duties, I am tasked with collecting and storing metallic remnants of Dualog cocoons.”
Doog: “What metal makes these cocoons so useful to the LIU?”
DAK: “Prevarication: The Dualog only reproduce during the safer Iphis solar season. Inference: Cocoons are only produced every thirty-seven months. Summation: It is not efficient for LIU to staff Dualis fulltime. Addendum: The LIU only collects organometals every three years.”
Doog: “That didn’t answer my question.”
DAK: “Tergiversate: That concludes planetary tour.”
Doog: “Why can’t you tell me what makes these cocoons so useful?”
DAK: “Statement: Organometal is valuable. Factual Declaration: The LIU is not actively present on Dualis. Statement: Stockpiles of valuable materials are not well protected. Theorization: To protect said assets, I have been programmed to avoid discussing said assets.”
Doog: “Uh, ok. If you say so.”

Doog: “Well folks – summation – I hate the way this robot talks. Statement – it is super annoying. But I guess we did learn a bit about this planet. Dualis orbits two stars and its proximity to either changes the amount of radiation striking the planet. The life here – from simple moss to the sentient Dualog – evolved to deal with these changing solar patterns. The locals are of particular interest to the LIU. They undergo a metamorphosis from nymph to adult as a way to avoid the UV solar seasons. To do this, they make these cool metal cocoons. Their reproduction cycles are tied to the solar seasons, so they don’t make these cocoons often. In fact, they are made so infrequently, the LIU doesn’t bother to staff the planet fulltime. They just left this weird-talking, scarecrow-looking robot-guy here to take care of business. Oh well, see ya!”
 
Note: The LIU collects approximately 5,000 metric tons of Dualog cocoons every three years. The shiny, lustrous organometals are mostly used in jewelry and decorative pieces. They are valued due to their rarity.

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the planet, Tabes. Tabes is emerging from ice age that lasted hundreds of millennia. Its temperature is rising, and many of the glaciers that once dominated Tabes are beginning to melt. The newly released water condenses into thick snow clouds, which insulate Tabes’ atmosphere, warming it even further. More importantly, the thawing ice is releasing ancient trapped gases, which the LIU collects. We’re going to head down to one of the collection-rigs on Tabes’ surface and check it out. Let’s go.”

Doog: “Alright folks, we’re approaching Gas-Mining Platform Khione IX, one of a dozen mining platforms stationed around Tabes. These platforms are positioned close to Tabes’ equator, where the warming and melting are more prominent.”

Doog: “Each mining platform employs and houses about one-hundred workers. All the workers here are imported, there’s no sentient-life native to Tabes. Well, that’s enough flying around. Let’s land on the platform.”

Doog: “Like I mentioned in this episode’s opening, despite warming temperatures, a lot of snow falls on Tabes. It has something to do with evaporating meltwater condensing in the cooler atmosphere as it gets pushed across the planet’s many mountain chains. Something like that. Luckily, the air temperature at this level is too warm for much of the snow to stick. It does make everything slick though. Given the fact that this landing platform is over twenty-stories high, I’m planning on waiting here – away from the edge – until my guide gets here.”

Tom: “You must be that Doog-fella. I’m Tom.”
Doog: “Hey, Tom.”
Tom: “So, how does this work?”
Doog: “Hey! That’s my line!”
Tom: “Huh? I’m just asking what we do next.”
Doog: “I know, I’m just kidding. Typically, you tell me about the work you’re doing on Tabes, and I say things like, ‘how does this work?’.”
Tom: “Oh. Well, this is a gas-mining platform, and we collect various gases released by the melting ice. Most of the gases we collect are noble gases – like helium, xenon, neon, etc. – that have been trapped in the ice since the planet formed.”
Doog: “How does it work?”

Tom: “We employ fractal distillation in combination with mol sieves to extract most resources.”
Doog: “I have no idea what that means.”
Tom: “I don’t either. I’m just regurgitating this script they gave me. I’m just the janitor.”
Doog: “Janitor! Why did they send the janitor!?”
Tom: “Everyone else was busy, I guess.”
Doog: “I’m here to tell my viewers about gas mining, not scrubbing toilets and taking out the trash!”
Tom: “Hey! I do more than that!”
Doog: “Sure you do.”
Tom: “Hey, I’m just as disappointed as you. They told me a TV personality was coming to Tabes. I thought it was going to be someone famous.”
Doog: “I am famous!”
Tom: “In what sector? I’ve never heard of you.”
Doog: “I’m galaxy renowned!”
Tom: “In what galaxy?”
Doog: “Whatever! Let’s just move on!”

Doog: “So, what are we touring now? The broom closets?”
Tom: “Very funny. We’re not touring anything. I’m taking you to the surface so you can get out of here.”
Doog: “Hey, I know I’ve been a little harsh about the whole ‘janitor’ thing, but there’s no need to kick me out.”
Tom: “As much as I’d love to kick you out, it has nothing to do with your disrespectful view of my profession.”
Doog: “Why are we leaving then?”
Tom: “You didn’t come to Tabes to tour the mining platform. Tabes has other areas of interest.”
Doog: “How does a janitor know that and I don’t?”
Tom: “Maybe janitor is a step higher than D-list TV host.”
Doog: “Pfft, I’m at least C-list.”
Tom: “Yeah, yeah. Whatever makes you feel better. Let’s get in the elevator, that is, if your ego will fit.”
Doog: “Shouldn’t you be buffing these floors as we go – you know – for efficiency and stuff.”

Tom: “Well, here’s the surface. If you head west, you’ll find your actual guide.”
Doog: “Wait, you’re not coming with me?”
Tom: “Of course not. I have to get back to work.”
Doog: “How am I supposed to know which way is west? Is there some landmark or something?”
Tom: “This glacier is pretty monotonous. It’s just endless flat ice. I can’t think of any useful landmarks other than the mountains. Good luck seeing them in this visibility.”
Doog: “Oh, good.”
Tom: “I can tell you this, though – if you find yourself falling off an ice shelf into the icy water, you ventured too far south.”
Doog: “Gee, thanks Tom. You’ve been so helpful.”

Doog: “‘Just walk west. You’ll find your guide. It’s so easy’, says the stupid janitor. What does he know? If he was so smart, he’d be out here wandering aimlessly through a blizzard with me. If I make it back, I’m definitely crapping in one of the urinals. Take that Tom!”

Doog: “Wait! I hear something! Hello? Hello? Are you my guide?”

Doog: “Wha…wha…what are you?”
Creature: “GWAHHH!”
Doog: “Ahhhh!”

Doog: “Ahhh! Someone! Help me! Ahhh!”

Nikola: “I heard a woman screaming! Quick! We have to save her!”
Doog: “That might have been – uh, I mean – there was a woman, but I already saved her. Yeah. I’m totally manly. No screams came from this guy.”
Nikola: “Are you sure? Those high-pitched shrieks had me worried.”
Doog: “Absolutely. I wouldn’t make something like that up…I should, uh, probably get a reward or something.”
Nikola: “Why was she screaming?”
Doog: “There was this massive ape-thing out there with huge razor-sharp claws. It was probably going to kill me – uh, I mean – her.”
Nikola: “Uh huh, I see. Was the woman part of your film crew? Where is she?”
Doog: “No. I think she, uh, was from that gas mining platform or something. She probably went back there. Yeah, probably.”
Nikola: “Doubtful. Everyone that’s been on Tabes for more than a day knows what an Unguis is. If she was a local, she wouldn’t have been afraid. Unguis are herbivores. Despite their towering appearance and inquisitive nature, they’re quite harmless.”
Doog: “But the claws…”
Nikola: “They’re for digging into the ice.”
Doog: “I, uh…”
Nikola: “Are you sure that wasn’t you screaming?”
Doog: “It wasn’t me! Why are we still talking about this! I don’t have time to solve the mystery of the screaming woman! I’m trying to find my guide!”
Nikola: “Uh huh. Sure. Well, you’re in luck. I’m Nikola, your guide. Follow me back to my living quarters, we’ll talk there.”

Nikola: “Let’s start over. I’m Nikola. I’m a biologist. I was sent to Tabes to study the local plants and wildlife.”
Doog: “I’m Doog. I saved a woman. I didn’t scream. I also make a TV show.”
Nikola: “Fair enough.”
Doog: “So, you study those terrifying ape-monsters?”
Nikola: “Yes, but looks aside, Unguis are not terrifying. They’re slow moving, plant-eaters.”
Doog: “There doesn’t seem to be a lot of plants out here. How do they survive?”
Nikola: “That’s the thing, there are plants on Tabes – very unique plants. You won’t find them in the ice flats. The plants on Tabes are troglobites, or cave dwellers.”
Doog: “Cave plants?”
Nikola: “Yes, sir. Want to see some?”
Doog: “Sure.”
Nikola: “Let me attach the trailer to my hover-sled. That way, I can pull you behind.”
Doog: “That sounds great. I used up a lot of energy running from that – I mean, fighting that Unguis earlier.”

Doog: “Why are you on Tabes? I mean, why does the LIU support a biologist on this planet?”
Nikola: “Tabes is changing. Warming temperatures, the release of greenhouse gases, and industrial activity all but ensure that the ice ages of Tabes will never return. In a few decades, Tabes will be unrecognizable. Most of her ice will be gone.”
Doog: “And that means what?”
Nikola: “That means that most of the native life on Tabes will die off. Most species here have been deemed, pre-extinct.”
Doog: “That’s not good.”
Nikola: “No, it’s not. To make sure these species are not lost entirely, I’ve been tasked with collecting DNA samples, so it can be stored on the ARK on Tutari.”
Doog: “You have to collect DNA from every species? Even those taloned-apes?”
Nikola: “Yes. The Unguis were easy, though. It’s the plants that are difficult.”  

Doog: “What makes the plants so difficult? They don’t move, do they? We’re not talking about carnivorous plants, are we?”
Nikola: “No, no. Nothing like that. There’s just a lot of species, and they’re spread wide and far. It doesn’t help that we don’t even know the location of every cave. If we miss a cave – and it contains unique life – we might lose these species forever.”
Doog: “I guess that could be stressful.”

Nikola: “Here we are, one of a thousand caves we’ve discovered so far.”
Doog: “It is unique, for sure. I’ve never seen plants like this.”
Nikola: “Yeah, they’re pretty neat.”
Doog: “How does a plant even survive in a cave?”
Nikola: “I guess it’s not a true cave. The ceiling is made of ice. This allows some light to penetrate. The air trapped in the cave is heated by this light. It makes this environment much warmer than the outside. The heat even makes some of the ice melt, which drips down on the plants. That’s where they get their water.”
Doog: “So, if the ice ceiling disappears…”
Nikola: “…the system breaks. The temperature in here drops and the plants don’t get water. If the ceiling goes, the plants will die. Furthermore, these plants evolved to use the spectrum of light that penetrates the ice. Without the ice filter, these plants will not be able to photosynthesize correctly. Again, when the ice goes…the plants die.”

Doog: “How do these giant ape creatures fit into all of this?”
Nikola: “The Unguis use their claws to access the caves and eat the plants. Then they move on to the next cave. Their trips between the planet’s various caves help pollination.”
Doog: “So, when the plants die, the Unguis will go extinct too?”
Nikola: “Correct. They are entirely reliant on these cave plants to survive.”
Doog: “Got it. So, are you going to collect some samples or something?”
Nikola: “I’ve already collected DNA from all these species. They are some of the most widespread on Tabes. It’s the niche-species that are only found in a few caves that are my concern these days.”
Doog: “And, you said finding these caves are part of your problem?”
Nikola: “Yes. So far, the most reliable method is following around Unguis. They seem to have the ability to sniff out these rarer caves.”
Doog: “Is any of the life here useful?”
Nikola: “We’re not sure about the plants yet. They haven’t been closely studied. Sample collection takes priority for now. However, there certainly seems to be a market for the Unguis. We’ve already shipped several off-world. I think they’ll survive away from Tabes.”
Doog: “Anything else to point out?”
Nikola: “I’m pretty sure that was you screaming back there.”
Doog: “NO it wasn’t! It was that woman! I swear!”

​Doog: “Well folks, that’s Tabes. This ice world is melting. The melting ice is great for collecting gases, like helium, neon, and xenon, but it isn’t so great for the life that evolved here. Scientists like Nikola are trying to sample and catalogue all of Tabes’ native life before it is lost forever. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go talk to my editor to see if we can deepen the sound of my screams earlier. Oh well, see ya!”
 
 
Note: The moon, Collum, is the largest importer of the ape-like Unguis.